#just do it for both of them it’s not difficult

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x afab!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), afab reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous tic.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slug over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ENTJ

Gryffindor

Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Virgo Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Your main concern, out of this situation, was how Vermithor would react to not only the colder weather but having to stay there.

・It is known that dragons do not like to travel far (without a rider) and love heat. So how would he stay with you?

・Your second concern was being away from your family... you had never been apart from them. Ever since being born, you were close to your siblings - but your mother cherished you in a different way...

・As her only girl, she hated having to send you away. But she knew House Stark would keep you safe. And you had Vermithor... Surely you would be okay?

・The first time you met Cregan was when you were both infants. Viserys had thrown you the largest nameday and the Lord of Winterfell came, along with his son.

・Being a few years older than you, Cregan can recount the memory. Especially the time you had grabbed his nose so tight that he thought you were going to tear it right off.

・The second time was only a few weeks ago, when you had flown with Daemon after Luke's funeral. (Rhaenyra wanted to go herself, but Daemon had become a father figure when Harwin died and she remarried.)

・You were used to Daemon. House Stark was not.

・And it was the Stark's maester who had interrupted a few times to keep both Cregan and Daemon in check.

・But Daemon was only testing the Stark - he wanted to know you would be protected.

・When the day came to leave, everyone came to see you off.

・Your brothers were teary-eyed, especially Joffrey who had clutched onto Jace. Your eyes matched his own - full of tears, puffy and red. You had been crying all night.

"I'm going to miss you all so much," you said to your brothers who had hugged you tightly. The white haired ones didn't understand what was going on, but they babbled to you anyway.

・Jace put on a brave face; he knew Cregan would keep you safe.

"I wish I could stay," you mumbled into Jace's chest, but he just kissed the top of your head and held your cheek.

"You are doing more than you know," damn him for being so wise, you had thought.

・You hugged Baela and Rhaena, all three of you had become so close that it physically hurt to know you wouldn't see them everyday.

"We'll see each other again," Rhaena cooed, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"And when we do, you have to tell us all about marriage..." Baela said, a twinkle in her eye.

You bumped her shoulder, "Baela! Of course you know I will!" All three of you laughed and hugged once more.

・Your mother was the last to give you farewell.

・She leaned her forehead against your own, tears spilling down her cheeks. Rhaenyra was full of inner-conflict. A large part of her didn't want to send you away to get married. But that's what royals had to do - especially in times of war. She wanted you safe; but wasn't safe with her?

・No. Rhaenyra had decided that being at home, at Dragonstone wasn't safe for you.

・But she knew Vermithor would stay with you - you were his first rider since Jahaerys, and that bond would protect you like no other.

・However, Vermithor's brute personality made this change in scenary difficult.

・It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd been to Winterfell. But having to relocate there was a challenge.

・Until Cregan had shown you the new cave/dragon pit they had made for him. It was incredibly warm, and large enough for him to stalk off into.

・Saying thank you to Cregan didn't feel enough. So you kissed him on the cheek and ran after Vermithor to see it for yourself

・The first time Vermithor and Cregan met, it nearly had you in stitches.

・Cregan didn't think it was funny for a long time. But after a few weeks, whenever you told the story - he let a smile appear on his face

・You had settled into Winterfell easier than you thought you would. You asked Cregan why that was - how Winterfell was just as warm of a castle as any other.

"Centuries ago, Bran the Builder had built Winterfell around an ancient godswood and over natural hot springs. The water is piped through walls and chambers to heat them. This is why Winterfell is far superior than any castle," he winked as he said it and you snorted in response, for it would be an insult to any other royal.

・But Cregan did have a great point - the system that Bran used when making Winterfell made it far more comfortable than other castles during the harsh northern winters.

・Every room had a fireplace that was kept lit all day, everyday. It was absolutely brilliant!

・One of your favourite places to go is the Godswood; the Weirwood tree seemed to hum; or so you thought.

・If Cregan cannot find you, he knows that's the one place in the castle to look first.

・Your relationship with Cregan became infinitely easier when you let your walls down.

・Opening up bit by bit, made him realise just how much you worry.

・And in turn, he too would tell you things no other were to hear.

・It strengthened your marriage.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams (absolutely obsessed with his wife)

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Bickering and Banter

Mutual Growth and Empowerment

Soulmates/Bonded Pair

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Wolves by Bruno Coulais

The Lone Wolf by Sagason

For the Dancing and the Dreaming by Erutan

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Megumi Fushiguro only showing his vulnerable side around you.

And it's not like he doesn't trust his friends. It just happens that he doesn't feel safe showing that side of him near them. He thinks that it makes him seem weak. And he definitely doesn't want to look weak.

He didn't even use to show his sensitive side around you at first. He never initiated cuddles, kisses or even hugs. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd wake up feeling brave and would hold your hand. Once in a blue moon.

But bear with him! It's his first relationship, so he has zero clue about what to do in this whole dating thing. He needed a patient partner, and, luckily, you were exactly that: never forced him to do anything he didn't want to do, never initiated anything without his consent first and never complained about his lack of experience. You were perfect for him.

One day, he was on his way to Jujutsu High after a difficult mission. His whole body was aching from head to toe, his head was hurting and he had some really bad cuts that were gonna scar for sure. The fight with a special curse had taken a toll on his body, even if he wasn't alone during it. And, honestly, even though he was literally limping, he couldn't think about anything else other than you.

His favorite part of the mission was the aftermath, not only because it meant that the problem he was choosen to solve was over, but because when he came to the dorms he knew you would be there, waiting for him with your arms between your thighs and a gentle smile. The thought of you always made him smile like a lovesick fool. Perhaps he was, indeed, a good old fashioned lover boy. Maybe he had, in fact, become one of the hopeless romantics he used to despise, because, on his way back to Jujutsu High, despite feeling like he was literally being eaten from the inside out because of how much pain he was enduring, he still found the strenght to squat and pick a pretty flower he saw on a bush. He handled it with so much care, his eyes literally sparkling with love when he looked at it. It was so beautiful. It reminded him of you. He imagined your reaction when he gave you the flower. Would you smile and smell it, looking for a vase to put it on your desk so everyone could see? Or would you laugh at him in an affectionate way and hug it close to you, smiling at how smitten he was for you? And you would be right (as you always were), because he was, indeed, smitten. He would burn down the entire world if you asked him to. He would do anything just to make sure that you were always smiling. He would rather be skinned alive than make you cry. You were his light, the one who guided him through darkness. He couldn't even remember how his life was before he met you, and he honestly didn't want to remember. You made everything so easier, his life had so much color with you in it and the sky seemed brighter. It looked like the birds were singing a soft melody made exclusively for you both, and everything was sunshine and rainbows. Life had never seemed so bright.

"Megumi? Did you even hear what we just asked you?"

"We're losing him. I bet he's thinking about his girlfriend again."

"Ugh, he's such a loser when it comes to her. It's so sweet it makes me sick."

"What happened to bros before hoes, Fushiguro?"

"I don't know what you idiots are on about" Megumi sighed after snapping out of his trace "And I was not thinking about my girlfriend." It's not like he's embarassed of you, but he didn't feel like being mocked by Nobara and Itadori just because he thinked about you once in a while. Maybe not only once in a while. Maybe he did think about you a lot. More than he'd ever admit.

"Suuuree. And that flower is for who? I bet it's not for me or Nobara." Itadori pointed to the plant on his hands

"Shut up." Fushiguro blushed, placing the pink flower (very carefully, may I add) on his pocket. Yuji and Nobara smirked at eachother, enjoying the abashed state their friend was at.

"As we were saying, we wanted to know if you're going with us to Shoko's. She probably has something to help us with our cuts. And some of these are nasty! I really hope they don't scar, because there's a really big one on my face. That will make my modeling job harder, I'm sure. But my pretty face will make up for it"

"I think the scar will be the least of your problems..." Itadori murmured

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" He sweatdropped and quickly changed the topic "Anyway, are you coming with us, Fushiguro?"

The black haired boy sighed.

"I don't think so. My cuts are not that bad. I just need a little rest. If they hurt, I'll go seek help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you guys can go without me"

"Okay then. Bye Fushiguro!"

"I still want to know what you said earlier."

"I said nothing, what do you mean?"

Hearing his friends playful chatter disappear in the distance, Megumi's thoughts drifted to you again. He was honestly so tired that he could only think about cuddling with you or laying on your lap.

He must have been really entretained by his thoughts, cause he didn't even notice he had gotten to your dorm before he literally knocked on the door.

"I'm coming!" He heard your sweet voice saying.

"Megumi! You're finally back! I missed you!"

No feeling could ever surpass the feeling of you holding him, your arms wrapped around his torso in a strong hug that made him weak. He hugged you back as quickly as possible and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes and ihnaling your scent that drove him half-insane. It was like a drug. You were like his drug.

"I missed you too" reaching for his pocket, he grabbed the flower and gave it to you, as if he was trying to show you that, even during his missions, he still thought about you constantly. "Here"

"No way. Gumi, you shouldn't have..." you said, taking the flower from his hands and sniffing it, a content smile on your face.

"But I wanted to." He returned your smile, grabbing the flower from your hands and putting it behind your ear, removing a strand of stray hair from your face in the process.

"Even though I'm absolutely loving this moment" you said, cupping his face "You stink. Please go take a shower."

Crap! He had forgotten to shower! Now you were going to think he was stinky! Ugh, how could he be so irresponsable?

He quickly grabbed a towel and some spare clothes he had in your dorm (he went there a lot. It was practically his second home or something like that. Actually, his home is wherever you are. So, it happened that your dorm felt like home, too) and took the fastest shower he had ever taken in his life. He just wanted to go back to your arms in less time as possible. He wanted to merge with you, wanted you to hold him so close that you became one.

"I'm finished" he said, going to your room. He had to put some bandage in his larger bruises, so he was still shirtless. That being said, you could literally see how big they were.

"Oh dear God! Megumi, did you go to Shoko's? These injuries look bad!"

"They're not as bad as they look" he said, laying beside you and staring at your eyes. He didn't know what came over him, but the next words he said made even him surprised "But I bet they'd get better if you cuddled with me"

It was the first time he was initiating something. You'd be a fool to let the opportunity go.

"Well, if you say so" you smirked, looking a him with a glint of playfullness. "I really hope I can help you with that. Not sure if I'm capable tho. Don't know if my cuddles are good enough"

"Don't act ridiculous, of course they are"

"Let's start with your treatment, then." You laughed. And oh, how he loved the sound of your laugh. He loved it even more because he was the cause of it.

Carefully, you slipped your arms around him, hugging him closer to you. Your legs linked together, and he buried his face on your boobs (he didn't even have any indecent thoughts behind that action. It just felt comfortable). And, just when he thought it couldn't get better, your hands found their way to his hair. You gently unraveled all the knots, one by one, while massaging his scalp. He let out a peaceful sigh and began moving his hands up and down your back, as if massaging you, and drawing random things in your exposed skin with his fingers, like little hearts or silly smiling faces. Everything was perfect at that moment. He felt safe with you, something he didn't feel with most people. He felt completely at ease. Nothing and no one could ever ruin that moment for him.

*Click*

Until something did. Or even better: some people did.

"KUGISAKI! I TOLD YOU TO TURN THE VOLUME OF THE CAMERA DOWN"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT I DON'T KNOW HOW YOUR STONE AGE PHONE WORKS. MY GRANDPA HAS A BETTER PHONE THAN YOURS"

"What. Are you guys. Doing here." It came out more like a comand than a question. Megumi felt frustrated that they had interrupted your alone time, and, honestly, even though he loved his friends, he just wanted them to go away. When they barged him uninvited, you had stopped playing with his hair, and he just wanted to feel your hands on his head again.

"Well, Gojo-Sensei asked us to come check if you really didn't need Shoko's treatment. But it looks like you have everything under control. We'll be going now. Just pretend we were never here..." Nobara said, trying to run away as quickly as possible before Megumi got even angrier.

"Hey! Isn't that the flower he grabbed on our way back? I knew it was for her! Look how cute, she even put it on her desk!" Itadori clearly didn't get what Nobara was trying to do.

"You idiot! We need to go fast, or else he'll get mad! Let's show the photo to Gojo-Sensei! I bet he'll find it funny. We can also use it as future blackmail, but we need to go before he gets us." The brunette girl whispered, but it was loud enough for the whole building to hear

"I can hear you, you know?"

"You're right! Let's go!" Megumi was promptly ignored.

In a normal occasion, Fushiguro would probably go after them, trying to get them to delete the picture. But he was just so tired that he didn't even have the strenght to.

"Ugh, I hate them"

"No you don't" You smiled, booping his nose and resuming your hands' work on his hair "you just need sleep. You're clearly tired, and the mission made you hurt. You deserve to rest. I'll be here when you wake up"

"Thank you." Should he say it? Oh, screw it. You needed to know. "I love you"

"I love you too, Gumi"

Honestly, he couldn't be happier right now. And so, with the feeling of your skin close to his and your hands on his hair, Megumi Fushiguro drifted off to a peaceful slumber, with the sweetest dreams he ever had. Of course they were sweet. They were only about you, afterall.

You were his everything. He loved you. And you loved him back. That was something he would forever be proud of.

~ A/N: I need sleep.

Masterlist

[mattsdolll]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

softbf!matt x childish!reader

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . this req ! fluff, age gap (2-3 years) matt taking care of his girls inner child. i thoroughly enjoyed writing this!! lets pretend this isnt like 300 words long

matt had been out working the entire day, filming. you had absolutely no problem with his busy life, constantly working on content, but sometimes it made it difficult when you had nobody to talk to all day, both his brothers being out with him didn't help either. he had to travel a lot between boston and la, sometimes other places – depending on his schedule.

as you were sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, wondering what color markers you'd use next to color in the drawing laid before you, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door unlocking. you perked up, greeted by your boyfriends smile.

"hi baby"

he beamed, walking over to you, you smiled wide, sitting up to give him a hug. he swiftly gave you a quick squeeze around the waist before dipping his head down to kiss you gently.

"missed you so much today, what'd you do all day, huh?"

he muttered against your lips, repeatedly kissing them. you let out a soft hum of contentment, leaning into his lips. he caressed your hip bones with his fingers slowly, almost massaging them.

"i missed you too handsome, i took a nap, i ate some food, oh – and i also colored a little, see?"

you beamed, proudly showing off the messy work to him. you handed him the page to give him a better look. he took it out your hands and let out a soft chuckle, admiring the so called art. it was a little out of the lines, pretty messy, but he found it all the more adorable.

"yeah? a flower? so pretty"

he mused, kissing your forehead. you let out a soft laugh, rearranging your markers. the sound of the tv wafted through the air, reaching matts ears. the familiar sound of cartoons often filled the house, nor matt or chris and nick cared, it didn't bother them.

"how about we get you in the bath, and after, we can have a little date night? just you and me sweetheart, we can watch some of that show you were watching and i'll help you color, yeah?"

he brought you to your feet with a smile, you beamed at the idea. once he saw your eager demeanor, he gently swooped you up and carried you to the bath. he let you soak in the warm water before washing your back for you and getting you dry.

you loved how much he cared for you, you could shut your brain off around him. he helped you into your pajamas – his pajamas.

you pressed a small kiss to his lips, leading to a longer, deeper session. you stood for a while, against his front as his lips moved slowly and sensually against yours. he pulled away with a grin.

"soo..date night?"

you soon found yourself on his lap, coloring away in the book he got you. matt propped himself up against the couch, watching you do your thing. he let a small smirk spread across his lips at the adorable sight before him. your matching pajama pants, your concentration, the way you were so comfortable. he absolutely adored you.

his eyes drifted to the tv, listening to the squeaky high pitched voice of the cartoons you loved watching. he claimed he didn't care, until you'd turn gravity falls on – then he was hooked. your age regressive tendencies were alluring, he found them strange but it was a part of you, and he loved every inch.

after what felt like ages of matt letting you talk about your day and whatever was on your mind, mindless coloring and losing track of what episode of gravity falls you were on, the both of you grew tired.

you colored until your hands gave out, crayons and markers splayed across the messy table. matts arms were around your waist, your face tucked into his shoulder. somehow in your sleepy state he had turned you around to face him without you realizing and soothed you to sleep. you snored softly, in complete bliss to his touch.

tags !

@mattscoquette @blahbel668 @emely9274 @pearlzier @wompwomp-1

@bernardsgfs @sturnsxplr-25 @aesthetixhoe @jetaimevous @alyrasturnz

@adorsturns @cvntytiger @d0e-b4by @lysielaced

[twinkletfout]

— For The Heir —

The Gojo clan is a powerful one, and so is Gojo Satoru. You have been promised to marry Gojo since you two were a child. And that's how you got married to Gojo satoru due to the force of both your parents. But Gojo is the strongest sorcerer, he has other responsibilities that he needs to fulfil, because of that he barely visits you. And when he does, its for his own needs.

The house is built for you and your husband to live a happy ever after life, but you are leading a lonesome life in the very same house. Gojo has come unannounced again on the doorstep

“Long time no see, wifey” he said with a smirk on his face, his hands crossed over his chest.

“Do not call me that” you said it with much force and disgust on his face. Your eyebrows hardening at his cocky demure

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with an amused expression as he took off his shades, looking directly at you. “Ah, you haven't changed at all, have you?”

You moved to the side to let him in. “It's rare for you to visit” you said with a slight mocking smile on your face.

“Can’t a husband visit his wife once in a while?” he said as he stepped inside the house, as he slid both of his hands in his pockets.

“Cut the act, Satoru” you said getting serious now as you closed the door behind him

He turned around to face you as he stepped closer, still maintaining a visible space between the both of you. His eyes darkening with a hint of annoyance “okay, fine, i'm here for a reason” he said

“Of course, I know you wouldn't be here for a reason, so spit it out,” you said, already getting exhausted by his presence. He let out a dramatic sigh as he said, "There's a meeting at the Gojo clan headquarters. They want you there. And before you start protesting, I already told them you would come.”

"what?" You said in disbelief "you just told them i would come without even asking me?” you asked as your eyebrows knitted with confusion

"Listen, I get it. You don't like being bossed around but like I said, there's a meeting, and your presence is required. I won't take no for an answer.” he said with no emotion flashing across his face, his eyes narrowing at you slightly.

“Im not coming” you simply said at his face. His expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing over his face, "Oh, come on. Stop being so stubborn."

He stepped closer until he was just a few inches away, his voice low and firm. "You don't have a choice. The Gojo clan summons you, and as my wife, you can't refuse. So you're coming whether you like it or not.” he said making it crystal clear, you could feel his anger flaring up each second.

"you show up only when you need something, why do I have to obey your every single word?” you said, arguing back, finally raising your voice. His tone grew sharp as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe if you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't have to be here, ordering you around."

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "But you are my wife, and the Gojo clan expects you to attend. So stop being difficult and just comply for once.”

You let out a heavy breath before yelling, "I am being difficult? You could've told me beforehand or at least asked me if I wanted to go! Why are you deciding everything??" He clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin at your constant defiance as he finally raised his voice "I'm not deciding everything, I'm doing what needs to be done. The meeting is important and I cannot have you causing any problems. So can you please just cooperate for once in your life?”

You took a step closer, as you held your head up high looking at his eyes "Have you ever cooperated in my life? Have you ever? tell me!” your voice broke a little as you yelled back

He clenched his jaw, his annoyance growing more apparent. The tension is growing heavy. "Use you? Is that what you think this is? I'm your husband, not some random person off the street. And if I remember correctly, this marriage was an arrangement, an obligation, not a love story."

He paused for a moment, his voice cold and detached. "I come here when I need to, and that's it. You're my wife, but at the end of the day, you're a tool for the Gojo clan” you shuddered at his words, his words sinking into you like knives, you couldn't say anything more, so much rage bubbled up inside you, but a hint of hurt flashed but before you can hold it back, tears welled up in your eyes. You turned your back at him, determined to not let him see that his words has affected you

He observed your reaction, the change in your expression not going unnoticed by him.

A flicker of guilt passed through his eyes, but he pushed it aside, his expression hardening again. He knew he had said those words to shut you up, but seeing you like this was, unexpectedly, harder than he thought.

"a love story? I'm well aware that this is anything but that” despite the argument, after it felt like an eternity we reached the gojo clan headquarters. As you both entered the clan headquarters, the other clan members greeted you both. You put on a polite smile, thanking them as you walked in.

Satoru, on the other hand, was noticeably distant. He nodded at the greeting, but his mind seemed elsewhere, probably still distracted by the events from earlier.

Eventually, the two of you were ushered into a large meeting room, where the other clan members were already seated around a large table. As you sat next to your so-called husband as the meeting went on.

One of the clan members turned to you and your husband as she asked. "So, how's married life treating the two of you?" one of his aunts asked, a polite smile on her face.

Satoru cleared his throat, glancing at you before answering. "It's... going well," he replied, his tone somewhat guarded. “Well, we called you here for a reason” she said, pointing to you with a smile, her face turning more serious.

“any news yet?” she asked. Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the question. All she got as an answer was both of your complete silence. You looked slightly at gojo, but you could tell that he was nervous. She sighed before saying again “this is far more important than you think this is, Gojo” she said. Gojo straightened his posture as he said “yes, i know” he said it with so much annoyance. It felt like he already knew about this matter

“Its both of your responsibility to carry on the gojo bloodline, and to produce a powerful heir into this clan.” She said as the other members agreed, all you could do was nod but you were still in a bit of shock thinking about the current situation about your relationship.

As the meeting concluded, on the way home. You broke the silence asking him “are they serious?” You looked at him as you asked. “They are.” He confirmed as his eyes never left the road. “"No way, satoru. Whatever I did to please you and your family. This. I can't. You know how we are!” I said in so much frustration

He remained silent like he was caught between wanting to say something but didn't know what to say. “I know you don’t want this, and I don’t either,” he replied, his voice strained. “But they’re being relentless. They’re demanding an answer, and they won’t accept ‘no’ as an option.”

Before you could answer he said “we’ll take it slow” You could see the determination in his eyes as you looked over at him. “I know we have our problems but..” he let out a heavy sigh before continuing “it'll work out.” you were extremely mad at him now to not consider what you said. You never in your life thought about going through a relationship like this, you hated yourself for being in this situation.

You didn't know it was for improving the relationship you both had, Gojo has been coming home lately, you didn't comment on it. Of course it will only turn out into a big argument. Even though the conversation between the two of you was minimal it started to improve. He would come home and stay the night and leave the next morning.

Finally the weekend came, it was already past six, when you heard the doorbell you guessed it was gojo as you went to open it, he was dressed in a handsome turtle neck with a trench coat and black wide leg pants. “Get ready, we are going on a date” he said as soon as you opened the door.

Your eyes widened at his comment as you mumbled “what?” his eyes narrowed as he said, “you heard me” a small smirk tugging on his lips, “why now?” you said your eyes looking away searching for the clock to look at the time. “What do you mean? I can't show off my wife a little bit?” he teased as you looked back over at his face as you said “how sweet”

You decided to wear a dark red satin mini maxi dress, with crossed bandages over the back. When you came out of your room, you saw him leaning on the wall as he scrolled on his phone.

“How do I look?” You asked pretty nervously to get his attention actually, he looked over at you as he slid his phone in the side of his pocket. “Breathtaking” he said as he came over to you, his lips curving into a smirk as you raised your head to meet his eyes “i should take you out more often, hm?” you could feel your face heating up at his words. He gently slid his hands down your shoulder making you shiver as he took your hand in his hands “shall we go?”

It was only surprising that gojo engaged in a normal conversation with you, you could feel yourself enjoying this moment with him, how he tried not to get things awkward between the conversation and telling you a quick few jokes to earn a laugh from you. But a thought gnawed in the back of your head, that was he doing all of this just for you to give birth to his child. Or is actually enjoying the moment with you? You were confused.

You snapped back into reality when he asked “you okay?” You nodded your head, you were both heading out of the restaurant, his hands intertwined with yours.

Just like that, months passed as he started to be more present in your life, taking you out every now and then, both of you enjoying the company of spending time with each other.

Gojo came unannounced on a friday evening, you hadn't expected him to come home that day. You were kind of tired after lunch so you took a nap, that's when you heard the doorbell. You rubbed your head as you pushed yourself to go and see who it was, You opened the door, squinting your eyes as it was still hazy.

As you opened the door, Gojo was greeted by the sight of your messy hair, your tank top dishevelled and crinkled. What his eyes focused on was the strap of your top falling off your shoulder.His eyes widened slightly as he took in your appearance, his gaze lingering on your shoulder before quickly averting his gaze. He cleared his throat, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Uh, hey," he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual. "Did I wake you?” realisation dawned on you "satoru? I told you to call me at least when you come over" He watched as you rubbed your eyes, still waking up from your nap.

"Work ended early, so" he replied, leaning against the doorway. "You, uh... you look like you just woke up.” he said looking down at you. "yeah, i was tired, so i took a quick nap" He tried not to focus on the way your top clung to your body, or the way you pulled it up to adjust it.

He was failing, badly.

He forced a smirk on his face as he teased, "Are you always this messy after a nap?” your head bobbed up at his question as your eyebrows knitted "messy? I'm not messy" you protested.

At your cluelessness, he gestured towards your attire. "Your hair's a mess, you're still half asleep, and your top's all crooked," he teased, his eyes flickering over your dishevelled appearance. "Looks like a storm just passed through here.” you felt embarrassed when he said that as you quickly rushed to see your appearance in the mirror after saying "oh Shit."

He chuckled as you cursed. You were so oblivious to the effect you had on him, which made it even more endearing. As you examined yourself, he couldn't help but appreciate the way your loose top clung to your curves, accentuating your figure. He had to look away, feeling his heart rate quicken.

"damn i looked like that?" You said in disgust as you said “let me put on a hoodie” you opened your closet, looking through clothes. For some reason the fact that he had to see you like this made you want to throw yourself off a bridge.

He had to admit, he wouldn't mind if you stayed that way, but he didn't say it out loud. As you mentioned putting on a hoodie, he finally looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why bother? You look fine," he said, his voice casual but laced with a hint of desire. You looked back at his face as you found a grey hoodie in the closet. “Me, no way” you said as you put it over your head. He watched as you covered yourself with the hoodie, He had hoped for a few more glimpses of you, He shrugged, masking his regret. "Suit yourself," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

He noticed the way you tied your hair up, revealing the slender curve of your neck. It sent a jolt of desire through him, making it harder to keep his composure.

He leaned against the door frame of your room, his gaze roaming over you. "You're always so proper," he teased, a hint of huskiness in his voice. "It's nice seeing you a bit... untamed for once.” your eyes widened slightly when he said that as you looked away, your eyes unfocused “yeah..?” You murmured, your eyes turning pink at his comment. He saw the uncertainty in your expression, how you fidgeted under his gaze. Just the sight of you, was driving him crazy.

He pushed himself off the door frame, closing the distance between you. He was now standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over you. "You're blushing," he said, his voice low

"me? No" you said, chuckling , playing it cool as you averted your gaze away from him, rubbing the back of your neck. He smirked, His eyes fixated on your face, noticing the subtle flush of red on your cheeks.

"Don't lie," he said, his voice a near whisper. "You're blushing. And I wonder... why is that?"

He stepped even closer, reducing the space between you even more. "maybe if you weren't so close" He could tell he was making you flustered, and he was enjoying it immensely.

"Oh, so it's my proximity that's making you blush?" he teased, closing the distance between you again.

He took another step forward, now close enough that you could feel the slight heat radiating off his body. Your back hit the wall as you could not step back anymore, trying to maintain the space between the both of you. "satoru, what are you-” he cut you off before saying "What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice lower and more raspy than before. "Isn't it obvious?"

He took the opportunity to lean in closer, trapping you between his muscular frame and the wall. He had you cornered now, his eyes trained on yours. He leaned in further until his face was mere inches away from yours, his breath warm on your skin.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly pushed the hoodie up, revealing a sliver of your bare skin. The sight of your exposed skin sent a thrill through him, and he couldn't help but let his fingers gently graze over it.

"You're even more beautiful when you're a mess," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I should wake you up like this more often.” you didn't know how to respond to what he said, his touch and the way his eyes glanced at your lips, it was all making you crazy, your body trembled at his touch, your eyes not leaving his as you observed his every move. "What do you mean?" You asked with a heavy breath

his lips now mere inches away from your ear. He could hear the hitch in your breath, the slight tremble in your voice "You know what I mean," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Seeing you like this, all messed up like that, it's doing things to me.” your whole face heated up as he whispered to you.

You couldn't help but look away from his striking gaze. He noticed your averted gaze, It only fueled his desire further. He reached out a hand and gently turned your face back towards him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm. As your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt as you met his gaze. The sight of you, pinned against the wall and looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes, made his pulse quicken.

His body pressed against yours, trapping you completely. His hands moved to either side of your head. "That's better.”

His lips were now dangerously close to yours, His eyes flicked down to your lips, noting the slightly parted state, and he found it increasingly hard to resist the urge to taste you. Your gaze moved down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, a silent admission of your desire.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a low growl, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. That's when you realised how badly you craved for a touch. The kiss grew intense each second, fueled by a mutual need that consumed you both. He pressed his body more firmly against yours, pinning you against the wall with his weight, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He was greedy, so greedy.

[rivendell-poet]

Hihi! Can I please have headcanons with the fellowship and Thorin's company having a short (like 5 feet) human s/o. And they be part of the fellowship/company, please? Please take as much time as you need!💕

Hi! Thank you so much for your request, and I'm so sorry it took so long. Also, thank you so much for the last part - it's small but means a lot 💕 (should be doing one for Thorin's company as well)

*･༓˚✧❝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Gimli ○ Boromir ○ Pippin ○ Merry ○ Sam ○ Frodo ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Can be read as platonic or romantic | Wordcount : 1.7k

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ He’s the person you have the largest height difference with. Because he’s weirdly tall. 

✧ When the two of you stand next to each other Pippin will sometimes stare. He’s confident that one of you isn’t truly human. Who that is depends on the day.

✧ Aragorn isn’t really bothered by it, cares more about if you can handle yourself on the battlefield.

✧ Does make sure that you have the weapons you need constantly.

✧ Knows it’s probably difficult to find the right sized ones, so after a battle he can be found sharpening yours (generally while humming something).

✧ Has forgotten about the height difference once when you were cold and he gave you his cloak.

✧ Tried very hard not to laugh when you become completely swamped in the fabric and almost fall over.

✧ (He mainly succeeds.)

✧ Will fetch anything you need off the high shelves, and always puts it back on the lower shelves.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ Closest of the ‘big people’ in terms of height difference. Not that that means much, because he’s still six feet.

✧ Is constantly asking you to describe the flowers you find. If they’re at a stage he finds it ok, will ask you to pick them up and hand it to him.

✧ Always tells you to ‘watch your head’ whenever he goes through a hallway he has to duck under. Has yet to correct himself on doing this.

✧ Treats your height a lot like he does Gimli’s, except he gets used to you slightly quicker.

✧ If you have not packed a bow he is very sad you can’t do archery together.

✧ Scours places for bows of your size with a slightly worrying intensity.

✧ Eventually, after the war is over, he commissions you one. It’s very beautiful, with dark wood and a gold leaf inlay of the different places you’ve been and enemies you’ve fought.

✧ Is actually a very good archery instructor, treats you how he would the others and it works out.

✧ Will fetch you anything from the high shelves, you just have to ask him first.

𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐢

✧ Closest in height to you. Is very relieved to find someone else of a normal height when surrounded by everyone else.

✧ You’re taller than he was, but he doesn’t care. Just happy that even though you’re taller than him you’re still almost on the same eye-level.

✧ Is very smug to the others that his weapon is around the same height as you - so the easiest to pick up. And with the best tutor.

✧ Does try to teach you how to use the axe, in some ways is a very good teacher but not all the time. Good offensively, lacking some defensive manoeuvres.

✧ Tries hard to learn your fighting style if you offer to teach him.

✧ Always insists you get first pick of everything when the Fellowship find items that can fit the two of you.

✧ When running across the plains the both of you blame the other one for being the slowest. Both of you also claim to be the better sprinter, neither of you have intentions of proving this claim.

✧ Would happily get you something from the high shelf if he could reach it. Has tried to convince you to climb up via him to get something instead of asking for help.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Along with Aragorn, he also doesn’t make a very big deal of it. You were trusted to be in the Fellowship, what else matters?

✧ You like to sometimes pretend you can’t see the height difference between Aragorn and Boromir and insist Boromir is the taller one. Both men know you’re probably faking, but neither correct you (for different reasons).

✧ Asks you for help to teach the hobbits how to spar, for example if a certain move he wants to teach them would be too risky - and what your advice is.

✧ Has supervised matches between you, Merry, and Pippin before. To your surprise he actually gives genuine, entirely unbiased feedback to all of you.

✧ Small part of him is amused by the fact his shield covers most of you. Would never say that out loud.

✧ (Boromir also finds it comforting, because it just means that it will be easier to protect you.)

✧ Very occasionally sketches out shield designs for you, if he has a lot of free time with most others being asleep. Writes the symbolism behind them in the margins.

✧ Will happily fetch you things from the high shelf. Puts them back onto the same high shelf out of instinct, then realises what he’s done and puts them onto a lower one you can reach.

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ Believes (lies to himself) that one day he may be as tall as you.

✧ Therefore constantly asks about how different life is when you’re as tall as you are (at the start of the Fellowship) despite the fact you’re only a foot and a bit above him.

✧ He insists that being your height will solve a lot of the problems he has in life. Merry says it’s better to just humour him.

✧ Has asked for piggy-back rides from you a few times. When you finally agree his eyes light up, there is pure joy as he sees the world from your perspective.

✧ After the entdraught one of his first thoughts is of you.

✧ Pippin wants to be taller than you. When he sees you again he runs straight into you, pulling you into a hug and then seeing if he has to look up to meet your height.

✧ Is crushed when he realises you’re still taller than him. Although he is around 4’8” now - so there’s much less of a height difference.

✧ Can finally reach the same shelves you can, and gives you the items from them even if you were just getting them.

✧ Has tried to climb up a shelving unit before to get to the top shelves. It ended as well as you think it did.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ Very surprised by your height, but also very enthusiastic. Didn’t think he’d ever be able to have conversation with a big folk without them constantly looming over him.

✧ Finally has someone other than Pippin he can show the little alcoves to, and then can spend time with them there.

✧ Every so often he’ll underestimate your height and you won’t be able to fit in - he’s always very apologetic when this happens.

✧ Only person who offers his cloak, and it’s actually a reasonable size for you. Slightly short but better than the other options, so you gladly take it.

✧ The thought of him being taller than you after taking the entdraught doesn’t even occur until he sees you again. Keeps his intentions fairly well hidden.

✧ Does the same thing he did with Pippin - ‘subtly’ measuring your height with his hand. Vehemently denies everything if caught doing it.

✧ Asks you about your tailors and if you own any patterns once he’s nearer your height. For the first few months you can see a lot of your stylistic choices find their way into Merry’s wardrobe.

✧ Would fetch you things from the high shelf if he could. Alas, he cannot - and he also values his dignity enough to not try and climb them.

✧ (Has secretly climbed them once with Pippin. The reason he doesn’t do it again is because he knows it will fail.)

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ Still thinks you're tall enough for the height difference to be slightly intimidating. He isn’t scared of you, it just comes from the tallest person he knew before you being around four feet.

✧ Other than that he treats you as he would everyone else, most respectfully and always looking out for your best interests.

✧ You are the person he goes too instinctively if he needs someone slightly taller than himself. Is always very apologetic about it, and promises to make it up to you.

✧ Generally makes it up to you by giving you one of the best portions of whatever he’s cooked for the night. Often with ingredients you managed to find for him.

✧ Also searches places to see if they’ll have weapons of the correct size for you.

✧ Is just as good as the people actually trained in combat, although it’s because he’s closer to your height - not because of his martial prowess.

✧ After the cave troll fight you’re the one he goes too, shyly asking if you’ll give him a few lessons.

✧ Sam is a very diligent student, and always gives you a bright smile every time. Thanking you for letting him protect Mr. Frodo that bit better.

✧ Unfortunately, he needs you to get him things from the ‘high shelves’ - but he would certainly help you if he could.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

✧ Subtle and polite look of amazement the first time he sees you, internally checking your height compared to his.

✧ He is somewhat sad that you’re just too tall to appreciate a lot of his walking sticks. Does find one or two in Bilbo’s collection that could be given to you.

✧ Always touched whenever you find him a ‘walking stick’ esque branch, although it’s sometimes slightly too tall for him.

✧ Often points out flowers and other beautiful things to you and Sam, because you’ll have the best view of it.

✧ After Aragorn, you’re his go-too person to hide behind and ask for protection. He feels bad about it the first few times, but you’re always there to reassure him.

✧ You and Aragorn have both moved in front of Frodo for protection at the same time. Always a moment of awkward silence and then shuffling into a decent position for the both of you.

✧ When seeing you, Pippin, and Merry all laughing together - one of them reaching out and ruffling your hair - he is somewhat envious about them now being around your height.

✧ However, he’s also grateful that he’s kept the same height. So Frodo isn’t too sad about it.

✧ Would fetch you things from the high shelves, although in reality you need to fetch things for him.

A/N : Hopefully you enjoyed, not entirely sure why this one turned out so platonic. But I am making one for thorin's company and I'll try make that one more obviously romantic. Thanks so much for reading and requesting!

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 / @chewgazellechew / @recordofragnarokfan2 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[violetlichen]

nobody puts my bald baby in a corner

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen / Named Atreides wife A little nsfw but that's not the point. Domestic family life. They have five kids and Feyd desperately wants another. Wifey won't oblige. Don't pay attention to the other characters and Houses I included, I don't know anything about Dune and I just pulled from the fandom wiki or made them up. Their son is not the Kwisatz Haderach either!

It has been five years since Feyd-Rautha last saw his wife swell with his child.

It is entirely by her design, and certainly not for lack of trying. He ravages her senseless almost every night, but after five children, the ever infuriating Diana Atreides refuses to give him another. As a Bene Gesserit, it is within her power to do so; the witches are able to bend their own reproduction to their will, and Feyd-Rautha believes she likes his methods of convincing her too much to give him what he wants.

Tonight, he almost has her hooked. He kisses her knee and up her bare thigh, licking and sucking the plush skin there. She barely acknowledges him and lets him fondle her as he pleases, lost in her own thoughts. 

“She’s too old for him. He’s just a boy.”

They are currently hosting several of the Great Houses. Earlier at dinner, he and Diana were approached by the Duke of Ginaz, who suggested they betroth his daughter to their oldest son, Aleksei. Diana had hidden her frown behind her glass of wine, but Feyd-Rautha had seen it and filed it away for later, thanking the Duke for his time.

He hums against her thigh, tongueing over the faint bruise he made. He can use this.

“He will be a man soon,” he reminds her. He pulls her leg over his shoulder as he shifts up the bed, now eye level with her weeping cunt. His mouth waters. “Even if we refuse this proposal, there will be others.”

He knows his wife wants to say more, but the words die in her throat when he shoves his nose against her, inhaling her scent and releasing a shaky breath. He pretends it is for her benefit, but really, this is all for him. With his fingers pulling apart the seam of her, his tongue lolls out, and Feyd-Rautha feasts. 

When he has had his fill of her pleasure, he crawls up the length of her body. She pants underneath him, back arching and eyes squeezing shut like a satisfied cat, her neck exposed and vulnerable. He licks off the sweat there.

“It will not stop with Aleksei,” he says, leaning over her.

Diana scowls. She shoves him, but he does not yield. He grasps her hand, pulling it away from his chest and up to his mouth, where he kisses her fingers.

He knows he is being cruel, rubbing salt in her wound. Her children are growing. At twelve years old, Aleksei is admittedly still too young to seriously consider for marriage, but the coming years will go by in a blink. First it will be Aleksei, then Nikita shortly after, and then Maxim – although their youngest and most unstable son will be difficult to pawn off, Feyd-Rautha thinks. 

His girls are another story. Sasha and Grisha were both gifted their mother’s beauty, but it is Grisha, their youngest, who takes after Feyd-Rautha the most. She is the only one of his children who did not inherit those dark Atreides curls. She is perfect; wholly Harkonnen, like her father. He knows he will feel how Diana does now when it is time for Grisha to leave his side.

It is why he fucks into his wife now, flexing his hips slowly and purposefully, so she feels every inch of his longing. He staves off the urge to empty himself inside of her prematurely, already aching to see her breasts swollen and leaking. 

He stops, trying to catch his breath. He pulls back from Diana to thumb over her pearl, grinding his length into her. “Shall I leave you like this, wife?” he asks her.

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her hips chasing his fingers.

“I can give you what you want,” he taunts. “I will pump you full of my children happily. What is one more?”

Diana does not answer, but he sees her breaking, just as he is. He holds her legs open, jutting into the apex of them, growling as he stares her down, willing her to change her mind. She hides her fears behind her pleasure, hides the tear sliding down her cheek by turning her face into the pillow, taking what he gives her.

What is one more child? Certainly not the solution to her problem. It is only a delay of the inevitable, that one day they will all grow up and no longer need her. Feyd-Rautha knows this. But he hopes to delay his wife’s suffering, just as he will delay her gratification if she does not give him what he wants.

When he pumps his load into her, he knows she is not satisfied. He breathes through his own satisfaction, nose flaring like a bull, but she does not complain like he expected her to. She does not roll him over to claim him, or bring her fingers to her cunt to finish what he started, his eyes on her hole, full of his spend.

Instead she buries her face in her hands. Feyd-Rautha leans his weight onto her and pulls her hands away, revealing her face to him. She blinks at him, her lashes wet and clumping together.

He knows what she is feeling. “I feel it, too,” he says. “Let me give you another, my darling.”

Diana nods and looks away, breathing out a held breath. “Alright,” she says. Her eyes soften fondly when they focus on him again. “Alright.”

They lay together for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Feyd-Rautha does not know if tonight will be the night, but he hopes. He hopes she sees it the way he does -- a continuation of their happiness, not the eventual ending of it. He kisses every part of Diana he can reach, and she cuddles into him, their limbs a tangled mess. 

A little later into the night, a knock on the door breaks their comfortable silence. Feyd-Rautha grunts, already irritated, and removes himself from her, slipping on a robe and his pants.

When he opens the door, he finds a wide-eyed servant. “It is the children, Baron Harkonnen.”

Feyd-Rautha frowns and widens the door, panic souring him. “Where are they?”

“They are safe, Baron Harkonnen, but there has been a bit of trouble.”

Diana appears behind him, wrapping her robe around her waist. "What sort of trouble?" she asks, brow furrowed.

“It will be best if you follow me to the drawing room within the guest wing, Baroness.”

Diana whips past Feyd-Rautha and the servant, not waiting for either of them to lead her to the guest wing. Feyd-Rautha follows after her, and he knows to expect his boys. It is not the first time he was awoken by something they have done when they should have been sleeping, but it does concern him that they were found in the guest wing.

Although he is the youngest son, Maxim is the instigator of all things. Not as bright as the others, he is aggressive and impulsive, often letting his hands speak for him. He acts before he thinks, and it frustrates Diana greatly. Many nights Feyd-Rautha has been brought before Maxim in the kitchens, where he sticks his grubby hands into pies and picks at berries meant for the morning’s breakfast. The guards know not to let him out of his room at night without their explicit permission.

But as explosive as Maxim is, it is Aleksei who reminds Feyd-Rautha the most of his own brother, Beast Rabban. His oldest son is proud and quick to anger, easily riled by Maxim and his sisters who poke and prod at him in the ways only younger siblings can. Feyd-Rautha does his best to temper Aleksei, to show him the value in patience, in choosing his battles.

Nikita, self-sufficient boy that he is, waits until the battles are over and won to pick at what remains. He watches. Feyd-Rautha suspects Diana favors him over the others, though she will never admit it. 

All of them dote on their sisters. Sasha has them carry her around on their backs, even when they are tired and sore and agitated from their training. They still treat Grisha like she is their baby, although she is almost six years old now and loathes the comparison. 

Each of them, in their own ways, bring honor to their House. It is not something he had ever imagined for himself when thinking about his future. Feyd-Rautha is proud of his children, and he would not be disinclined to have another.

The chaos they find upon entering the drawing room is enough for him to change his mind.

The lord and lady from Zanbar, whose names Feyd-Rautha has forgotten, fawn over their young daughter, who sits upon an ottoman in front of the fireplace, her face red and streaked with tears. She cries as she pulls at what remains of her blonde hair. It has been crudely chopped off, the ends blunt and jagged like it had been sawed with a knife.

Their boys stand sullenly in front of the governess, disheveled in her bathrobe and still flustered from being awoken in the middle of the night to collect them. Aleksei folds his arms over his chest, his head full of curly dark hair held high. Next to him, Nikita remains calm in the face of their impending scolding. He very likely had done nothing wrong but bear witness to the antics of his rowdy brothers. Meanwhile, Maxim openly glares at the small weeping girl. She deserved what she got, and he is waiting for a reason to give her more to cry over.

“What happened?” Diana asks, dismayed.

“Your sons snuck into my daughter’s bedchamber and cut her hair off while she slept!” the lord’s wife snaps, borderline hysterical. “Where were her guards? How was this allowed to happen?”

She is reaching an unnatural decibel, but withers under the glare Feyd-Rautha shoots her. They were pulled from their bed for this? His darkening expression does not fully quell the lady's anger, and she gawks at her husband, willing him to say something.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," the lord offers unhelpfully, averting his timid gaze.

Diana stills, taking in the sight of the poor girl’s hacked hair. With a deep inhale, she turns to the boys, her hand finding her hip. “Explain yourselves.”

“She was mocking Grisha, mother,” Maxim says, scowling. “We heard her at dinner.”

Aleksei nods, more self-righteous and refined in his anger. “She laughed at Grisha and made her cry because she doesn’t have hair.” He sneers when the lord’s daughter wails a little louder at this, because she, too, does not have hair now. “She called her ugly.”

Diana looks heartbroken over this, but her Bene Gesserit training helps to quickly neutralize her face. She looks to Nikita. “And you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I told them not to.”

Feyd-Rautha believes him. Nikita is no less ruthless, but he is also a diplomat by nature, preferring more uninvolved methods of justice or revenge. This boldness is certainly the work of his brothers.

Feyd-Rautha cannot wait to reward them handsomely for it.

Diana believes Nikita as well, for she turns back to the other two. “Apologize to Lady Rosalind.”

“But mother, she–”

“Enough,” Feyd-Rautha rasps, growing tired of the spectacle. “Do as your mother says, so we may all retire to our beds.” He shoots another glare at the lord and lady, who bluster under his attention, too afraid of him to protest again.

Aleksei and Maxim step forward and bow to the young girl. “We’re sorry,” they echo, not meaning it at all.

Knowing that is the best she will get from them, Diana exhales deeply and dismisses them back to their rooms, escorted by their governess to make sure they get there and do not take any more detours. Nikita follows, ever their solemn shadow. 

Diana kneels down beside Lady Rosalind. “Don’t fret. Hair grows back,” she soothes. The girl hiccups, and Diana gently brushes the hair out of her eyes before standing up to face her parents again. “I apologize on behalf of my sons. As you can see, they love their sister very much and do not take kindly to those who upset her.”

The lord and lady of Zanbar try to hide their grimaces. They know their indignancy is unfounded now that they know their daughter had started this. “Baroness, I must apologize–” the lord starts.

“That won’t be necessary,” Diana interrupts, putting a graceful hand up to stop him. “Let’s put this unpleasantness behind us. My husband and I will question our guards to understand how this was allowed to happen. Those responsible will be thoroughly punished.” She looks at Feyd-Rautha. “That includes our sons.”

This seems to satisfy the lord and lady enough to gather up their snot nosed daughter and leave, perhaps vowing to never step foot on Giedi Prime again. Feyd-Rautha will not miss them.

He and Diana walk back to their bedchamber in an agitated silence, until she breaks it.

“Still want another?” she asks him, deadpan.

“Not particularly. Would you still like me to thoroughly punish them?”

“Not particularly.”

Feyd-Rautha hums, and he reaches for her hand. 

The next morning, Feyd-Rautha walks over to Grisha where she sits on the wide stone fence, her little legs dangling over the side. The boys train in the yard, and she watches with her dolls, acting out the sparring techniques she sees with them. He kisses her head, smooth like his. She ignores him, too caught up in supervising the training of her dolls.

Feyd-Rautha smiles. “Who is winning?” he asks.

One of the dolls headbutts the other. Their yarn-like hair swings around violently. It is hard to tell under the light of the black sun, but he thinks one of them is blonde. That one plops to the ground, landing in the sand.

Grisha raises the hand of the victorious doll the way she sees her father raise his in the arena. “This one,” she tells him.

“Well fought,” Feyd-Rautha says proudly. He bends down to pick up the doll and hands it to her. He watches her run her fingers through the doll’s hair, brushing the sand out of it with great care.

One day, his daughter will train alongside her brothers. She will have no need for hair then. It would just get in her way, and make her easier to grab by her opponents. She will see the use in this, and appreciate what makes her Harkonnen.

For now, Feyd-Rautha cups her head and kisses her again. He calls her his beautiful girl, and returns to the yard, picking up where he and the boys left off.

[anghraine]

It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.

If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.

Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.

I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.

There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.

This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.

Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.

Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.

And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.

And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."

[20dollarlolita]

The differences between EGL and Loliable (with fewer cats).

For the version with fewer facts and more cat, please click here.

One of the biggest problems with doing handmade or offbrand lolita fashion is that it's very difficult to understand exactly how detailed a piece needs to be to pass as a lolita fashion piece. As we'll get into here, you generally need to have a detailed piece, and then put details on the details, and then maybe add a couple more details onto those details.

Not every single piece of a coordinate needs to be 1000% standalone lolita. There's lots of offbrand pieces that you can use in a coordinate, which we generally call "loliable". The really important component to remember is that, if every piece of your look is loliable and not lolita, at the end of the day, you're not wearing lolita fashion.

And, if your goal is to wear lolita fashion, building a look that isn't lolita is not accomplishing what you want.

When I was thrifting a while ago, I found this blouse, which has nearly the same construction as one of my lolita blouses. This felt like a really good chance to show the difference. Both of these blouses could be worn in a lolita coordinate, but only one can stand alone as lolita fashion.

So both of these are blouses with short, puffed sleeves with button cuffs. They're both fitted at the waist. They both have a front bib detail with a ruffle around the edge. They both close in the center front with buttons.

The Innocent World blouse (the lolita blouse) has a peter pan collar, and the offbrand blouse has a stand collar with a ruffle. That's their major construction difference. The other difference is that one has a cat on it.

Let's start our comparison with the cuffs. The Innocent World blouse is gathered into the cuff. The cuff has a lace applied flat onto the cuff. It also has a ruffled tulle hanging off the edge, making a frill. The offbrand blouse has a plain cuff.

We're going to compare the bib detailing by tucking the blouse into a high-waisted skirt. This lets us focus on this detail instead of getting distracted by fit.

We're going to start with the ruffle around the edge of the bib. This is really the only main detail that the offbrand blouse has. It's a cute little ruffle, and it draws attention to the bib. The ruffle is the same fabric as the blouse. It's totally fine.

The IW blouse uses a gathered lace as the ruffle around the edge of the bib. This is more detailed both because there's a pattern in the lace, but the lace itself is a different fabric from what the blouse is made of. Incorporating coordinating textures that are not identical is incorporating additional levels of detail.

The IW bib also has three lines of ruffles on each side of the bib itself. Two of those are the same lace that was used on the bib, and one is a small ruffle of the same fabric the blouse is made of. Again, incorporating different textures into an area increases the amount of details. It also allows you to put more detail into a piece without it seeming crowded.

Finally, the IW blouse has some large, elegant buttons that have a lovely texture on them. They're not just functional; they're also nice to look at. The offbrand blouse has those standard faux-pearl white shirt buttons that you get in every mending kit every stocked in a hotel room. They are about as generic as buttons can get.

If we're going to add another note, it's that the Innocent World blouse has details on the bottom edge. There's a button at the bottom to keep the blouse closed, and it has a little ruffle. Not pictured, but there is a tie on the back of this blouse, so that fit can be adjusted a little bit. That tie also adds a nice detail to the back of the blouse.

Let's talk about fit for a second. Full disclosure, the offbrand blouse does not fit me very well, and that's not doing it any favors in this regard. The IW blouse is also a tighter fit for me, but the button spacing and the interfacing on the front placket really help with the fit. The offbrand blouse doesn't have any buttons past a certain point, so the bottom flares open in a inverted V.

In addition to the button spacing, the Innocent World blouse is fitted with front and back princess seams, and then also with a dart on each side. It's specifically cut so that the bottom of the blouse can cover the waistband of a lolita skirt, and then flare a little for the skirt. While you can find nice princess seams and darts on offbrand blouses, it's really only on lolita blouses that you'll see them cut to fit a lolita skirt.

The offbrand blouse is fitted with dart tucks. A dart tuck is like a normal dart, but the ends are left open. This is intended to provide fit at the waist, but then leave the rest of the piece open. The downside of dart tucks is that, if the piece isn't loose and open and billowy, they will never sit flat. There will always be that pleat area in there. It will just be stretched flat, the way it is on the picture of me up there.

This is not to say that pieces with dart tucks can't be used for lolita fashion, but it's a really good example of how something that loliable can be different from something that's lolita. As you can see in the top pictures, with a high waist skirt covering the dart tucks, the blouse works pretty okay. However, when it's in the open, it starts to look really disheveled. You can't wear this blouse at the tightness that you usually wear a lolita blouse and still have it look lolita. Clothing that fits well enough to look professional and extravagant is a bit part of the lolita concept, and you don't want a garment that looks messy.

So, in conclusion, 1) you can probably put more details on that garment, and as long as it doesn't look messy, it probably makes it look more lolita, 2) you can probably put more details on those details, and as long as it look not messy, you're probably fine, 3) blouses are only like $35 on Amazon and if you're making your own garments, adding a truly lolita blouse can really elevate the look and help you from having your coord overcome with loliable pieces and trending away from actual lolita and 4) if the blouse doesn't fit you and isn't really lolita then there's no crime in giving it to the cat.

[imnotyetfound]

My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles. 

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months. 

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other. 

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

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

Summary:  Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

[thrandilf]

"Invert Life and Death"- Aaravos's Plan?

The line about sacrifice in the latest S7 blurb is exciting but I am so about whatever the hell Aaravos wanting to invert life and death means

To me this means we finally have both a motivation and plan of action- destroying the Cosmic Order is obvious, but this was never fully connected to the chaos he's been causing in Xadia. Sure, he was being disruptive, but it was difficult to figure out what his goal was or how his actions were contributing to bringing them down, why it was taking so long, and how Leola factored into long term plans

To start, the quasar diamond can't be used for Leola so let's get that out of the way/if it could be he'd have done it

But if he does something to destroy and/or flip the barrier between life and death, which we just explored a bit during 6x09 and back in Through the Moon, Aaravos could bring Leola back but also kill off the Cosmic Council if he could wield life and death magic on that level

Furthermore, we have the Moon nexus portal, but I also wonder if the Sea of the Castout could be used on a full moon to bring her back if he's done something/stored enough energy to trade lives around

Like, he kills a Cosmic Order member and in exchange gets her back

And there's probably other trades he could do or other ways he plans to take them down and idk details or what pieces have been missing (a True Heart? Terry's heart as a sacrifice?) the Cube?

Leola is also in an ocean of magical tears so like Hello

I don't know but I do feel like I finally get what he wants to do and how it connects both to revenge and getting his daughter back and how getting lost loved ones back and disrupting the life and death balance (in the season we get Rayla back in the Silvergrove OOOOOH) could be really cool, add a lot of lore, and be an avenue to manipulate people a la Claudia 5x09

[cupcakeslushie]

Any advice for someone who's going through art block?

Art block is so difficult, because I really think it’s down to each individual person finding what helps for them.

For me, I more often just try to power through. Because if I do stop to take a break, there’s a danger, where I know I’ll get stuck for weeks, just lazing about, not getting anything done. Then it’s really hard to get back in the swing of things. But this method of being stubborn, might be horrible advice for someone whose mental health really suffers from staying in that mindset of “failing, failing, failing”. Because that’s what it can feel like, when you’re not seeing the results you want. It can be very frustrating, and it either causes you to grow even more stuck, or it lights a fire in your ass to keep you going until you’ve forced it.

Both of these methods aren’t necessarily unhealthy or bad, but they simply work for you, or they don’t. And what helps, can often change based on your mindset and energy levels.

If powering through ever does fail me, (like it kinda has recently lol). Then, I’ll throw up my hands and accept that life is telling me to take a freaking break. In a week or two, I can come back when I’m rested and inspiration hits again. Because even I have points where I just have to listen to what my brain is telling me—despite the fact that all I want to do is be drawing nonstop lol.

Ill watch some tv, listen to some music, read, cook. Whatever is relaxing. And most of these things will provide me with enough chill vibes that I can jump back in when I’m ready!

It’s all about listening to yourself and knowing when to actually give your mind and body a break.

But, If you’re coming in well rested and bright-eyed, and the art block is still popping up, maybe it’s less art block, and more just your brain being slow to switch tasks. Do some warm up sketch exercises, get up and jump around to get your blood pumping. Browse your feeds for inspiration, but set an alarm to give yourself a certain amount of time so you don’t fall down the rabbit hole. Play some banging music to get your energy up. Staring at a blank, white canvas is hardly the proper kind of stimulating activity lol. You’ll rarely find any ideas that way.

There’s plenty of methods to handling art block. The real killer of it, is more when you let it pull you into this loop of self deprecation/sabotage that only gets worse the longer you sit in it. Art block isn’t failure on your part, it doesn’t need to be punished, or mean you’re lacking as an artist.

It’s an unavoidable part of the creative process, you learn how to handle it, and how to sail through it when it hits.

It’ll either blow over when it’s ready, or when you’ve developed a good strategy to hurry it along.

[buttacake80]

I also hate Sarah Huckabee Sanders, but for other reasons.

She made a dig against VP Harris for not having biological children.

My background is kinda similar to Kamala's in that we both are Gen X Black women with law degrees who spent many years of our professional lives as civil servants.

Black women, particularly Gen X & Millennials remain the most educated demographic. Many of us walk around with multiple degrees. I have 3 of my own.

A lot of us sacrificed romantic relationships and self care to pursue our education so that we can compete not only with white men but also Black men. It is due to the intersection of sex and gender. The odds are doubly stacked against us.

So when someone slams a door in our face, we turn around and get another degree, then we storm back and kick that fucking door down.

But we have made sacrifices.

I am 44 years old. I always wanted to be a mother but not only was I pursuing my education and professional advancement, but I was also on a path towards healing myself so I could be a good, nurturing mother.

But time is running out for me. I have entered perimenopause. I have PCOS, and I just had 5 uterine tumors (fibroids) removed in August so I could improve my chances of carrying a child. I was pursuing IVF, but if the Republicans got their way, they would eliminate that.

Maybe time ran out for Kamala. Maybe Kamala decided she would not carry her own children but that she could still mother someone. Maybe she has a chronic medical condition that made it impossible for her to carry a child to turn?

We don't know. Frankly, it's none of my business why she did not have a biological child. And no woman should be judged for the decision she makes about her body, and that includes if she chooses to become a mother or not.

📣We are more than wombs.📣

I do not understand why so many self-identified Christians revel in being cruel to their fellow human beings.

I want everyone to live with dignity and to have an opportunity to live in joy, surrounded by the things or people important to them.

I want people to be warm. I want people to be fed. I want people to be housed. I want people to feel seen and acknowledged irrespective of the crimes they may have committed.

I just don't understand why it's so difficult for them to be just plain decent.

[snek-panini]

Today's completed book is a bind of Glimmer, by @tawnyontumblr (hi, it's me, the person who asked to bind your story way back in April). This story is a Good Omens human au about sex workers in the Regency era, and it's gorgeous and lush and fantastic. Sexy and vulnerable and all the good adjectives. Go read it if you haven't yet, it's wonderful.

This is another legal-size quarto, my second (of 4; more are on the way). It really is an addictive size, and perfect for fics this length. The cover is done in this really pretty red damask lokta paper that highlights different parts of the image depending on the angle of the light. I was toying with the idea of binding this fic, and when I found this paper I immediately bumped it up the list because it's so perfect. The spine is dark gray lineco book cloth that I simply cannot resist putting on spines. I realize this is a pattern and I do not care. It's softer visually than black and it coordinates with everything and I will not stop.

More photos under the cut!

What did I tell you, it coordinates with everything. I used silver foil HTV for the title, and I elected to put it just on the spine so as not to cover up any of the floral patterns on the cover. Honestly, I thought about it but just couldn't bring myself to cover it up. The interior of this one has some very fancy fonts and I wanted one for the spine but they were all too spindly. But this one's a good compromise, I think. Delicate but straightforward.

Top view. I really wanted to do custom end bands for this one, for maximum luxury, but it was too thin, so it has pre-made black ones. They sort of disappear in the photos but make a nice contrast in person. I am totally in love with the starry endpapers even though they are only scrapbook paper from Joann's. It was surprisingly difficult to find something that looked good with the red cover, because plain solid colors looked too lackluster and most prints were too bold with the floral, not to mention a lot of colors clashed with the red. But I love these gray-on-gray stars. They're perfect. And a lot of the fic takes place under cover of darkness, and stars are a symbol of hope, and this fic's about wanting to escape your current circumstances, so it's kind of thematically appropriate. I'm going to say it is, anyway XD

So I think the title page is my favorite part of the bind again. I found this vintage valentine graphic on rawpixel for free and it's probably the most opulent thing in the whole typeset. The sort of uneven ink distribution is on purpose and adds to the vintage feel. I remember thinking about a year ago that my title pages were too plain and I needed to level them up somehow, and with the batch of binds I've been posting for the last week or two I think I've done it. The fonts here are called Annabel (the one with the trailing ends) and Victorian Decade (the swirly one that my bindery name is in). Both are available for free from DaFont. I did have to get a little tricky with the line spacing to get them to print correctly, but it was worth it. I wanted opulence for this one.

And that's that! I hope I did the fic justice, because I couldn't be more pleased with the outcome.

[dollivication]

DEVIL MAY CRY || BOT DROP 2

WARNING! Some bots include sensitive topics. DARK CONTENT BASED. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

Things weren’t looking up for you ever since you’ve moved out of your parents’ house. And the moment you thought your neighbor could provide a sense of normalcy… he provided the opposite.

Introducing DANTE SPARDA — “Someone’s been avoiding me. Why’s that, sweetheart? Do I scare ya?”

Your older brother is tired of your lack of discipline and obedience. It’s your fault that he has to resort to more.. Unordinary measures, to get you to finally listen.

Introducing VERGIL SPARDA — “If you cannot follow instructions, then perhaps you need to learn the hard way.”

Your older brothers have differing views on just about everything and anything. As their little sister, you’d do well to side with one of them. Or both, if you can manage..

Introducing VERGIL AND DANTE — “You’re a terrible influence, Dante. I won’t let you drag the girl down into an endless immaturity like yours.” … “At least with me, they’ll live a little. Right?”

Tale has stated that angels are the most generous beings, and you are living proof of that. But he has grown weary of you wasting it all on others... So keep flying, angel, because one day, he’ll make sure you won’t be able to anymore.

Introducing V SPARDA — “..There is nothing out there for you, doll. The world out there is cold, unfeeling. But here... here, we have the warmth of our shared moments. Isn't that worth staying for?”

If Satan had a kid, you’d be the child. You’re a controversial topic in the eyes of those that devote themselves to religion—such as him. He’d do well to stay out of your way.. Yet his undeniable curiosity may his free ticket to Hell.

Introducing NERO SPARDA — “There’s better places to be doing that, you know.. Why’re you even here?”

The best part about having a best friend is being able to understand each other on deeper levels, have shared likes, and come to agreements... And they understand that they both desire you, both adore you, and agree to keep you.

Introducing V AND NERO — “Finally—You were out for a good while.. Was starting to get worried, babe.” … “Forgive us for the..unfortunate circumstances, but it is only temporary. Simply.. be good to us, and we’ll be good to you. I’m sure that won’t be difficult for you, songbird.”

Tread with extreme wary…

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Thirty-Nine: By The Six

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

There are six deities that most, if not all, of Olera worships. ‘The Six’ watch over the world and everyone on it. But, their responsibilities did not start with the life that litters the world.

In the beginning, it was much simpler than that. 

Four deities ruled the elements.

Osren controls the winds that blow through the trees, kicking up leaves and spores to spread wildlife all throughout the lands. Sailors sing his praise and always carve his sigil into the hulls of their boats for his good graces.

The calmest of the gods, he comes and goes, just as the wind does. His soft spoken nature often leaves him in the middle of arguments he wants no part of. 

Davita, the water goddess, is often seen to his right. Her sigil is oftentimes carved directly next to the wind deity’s as well. The two of them are attached at the hip in every legend and fable. Even in ancient drawings, you will always see Osren and Davita standing side by side. 

It wasn’t a romantic relationship as far as the Olera-dwellers are aware. But, it was not strange to see them depicted as such in pieces of art and stories. 

Mostly everyone saw The Six as siblings. But, there are always outliers. 

Besides, Davita was too busy with her own duties to be romantically involved with anyone, especially another deity. She controlled the land’s natural waters– the sea, rivers, ponds, lakes, streams, all of them fell under her control.

Her temperament was almost as even as Osren’s, but there are stories of her losing her calm demeanor to souls who have done her wrong. 

The only deity she loses her temper with is Ralios, the god who rules over fire.

They have your typical fire versus water relationship, but at the same time they’re just as close as a brother and sister would be. They loudly pray for each other’s downfall while also silently wishing the other nothing but good fortune.

Because they both know they would be nothing without the other.

Ralios has the exact personality you would expect; he’s loud, explosive, snarky, and is the quickest to anger out of every one of the deities. Sometimes in old legends, it appears as though he disagrees with others just for the sake of being different and difficult. 

That behavior went unchecked for a while as all four of these deities created the world we know: Addran.

Akthar is the deity who rules over the entirety of terra. Everything natural and alive falls under his umbrella. He always takes on a more fatherly role with all of the other deities. Some like to depict him as a tired uncle who is sick and tired of wrangling his nieces and nephews. 

Most other legends like to portray Akthar somewhat like the older brother whose parents left him in charge until they get back. In some moments he knows what he’s doing, but in most, it’s all an act and he’s winging every single decision he makes.

With the help of his siblings, Akthar created Addran for them all to play with.

For a while, Addran simply existed as a space for the four siblings to play in like a sandbox. Osren could experiment with wind speed, Davita could let her water flow where it wanted, and even Ralios had a grand time crafting volcanoes with his brother. 

They all loved crafting and creating new and interesting things to decorate their world.

The very first thing that Akthar created solely for himself was an Elf. A small, gentle, beautiful creature that loved the world just as much as Akthar did. And when that first Elf got lonely when Akthar wasn’t around, the terra deity made another Elf, and another, and another until the forests were full of them.

These beautiful, nature-connected beings in which Akthar could communicate with through the rocks and the trees were all over the world. The Elves thrived in areas that were more densely populated with plant life, it’s where they felt more connected to the deity that made them.

Akthar raised them to be herbivores, only eating the natural fruits and vegetables that were grown out of the soil that he personally fertilized and made rich with vitamins and minerals. He made sure that no Elf ever went hungry; they were always happy and healthy. 

The Elves worshiped Akthar in ways that he almost got a bit shy about. He did not want to be seen as a benevolent god to them, he simply wanted to be a provider, a teacher, a mentor. He wanted to teach the Elves everything he knew. 

And while Akthar was busy tending to his pets, Osren, Davita, and Ralios all watched with piqued curiosity. Their brother was having so much fun playing with these little creatures that ran barefoot through the forest. They watched him teach them which berries to eat and which to stay away from.

He taught them to stay away from poison ivy, but also that snow weed can be chewed up and used as a paste for wounds. 

And the siblings watched.

Eventually, curiosity can turn into jealousy.

Why can’t they have little pets in their lands? They want creatures of their own.

“ Fine then ”, Akthar said.

And as a true older brother would, he gave each deity their own little pets.

For Davita, he created the most diverse biome imaginable. He gave her so many different forms of creatures that thrived in water. Anything that he could stir up in his beautiful brain, he gave to his only sister. Some creatures were hostile, some were calm, others varied in between, but he gave her that gift.

For Osren, he did much the same. Akthar crafted animals that loved flying through the air just as much as him. He knew how much the wind god loved to feel that breeze on his face, so he wanted his little pets to have that same love for the sensation. He gave them all wings so that they may share the love of the air. 

It took a long time for Akthar to think of what he could create for Ralios, his most explosive little brother. He saw how much Ralios seemed to like watching the Elves, but he also knew that his little brother liked having a sense of responsibility. Ralios liked being placed on a pedestal of sorts.

So Akthar created Man– who, in many ways, were just like Elves. But they needed a lot more tending to, a lot more special attention. Man needed more coddling than Mer.

The day Ralios gave Men fire was the day Akthar saw his little brother’s face light up for the first time. The fire god craved the attention that Men gave to him.

He truly became their god in every way. He became everything to Man that Akthar did not want to be to Elves.

At first, Men had diets much like Elves did: fruits and vegetables. But, Men did not seem to crave the peace that a forest brought them like their sister race did; no, Men liked building their own homes and quite liked being by the water.

None of the four siblings thought anything of it until one day, one man ventured out to the water and caught a fish. He stayed still in the water until a fish swam by his feet and then he stabbed a sharpened rock attached to a stick through the creature. 

Now, there’s much debate in legends about if Ralios told the Man to do this in order to make Davita mad or not. Some scholars will say he absolutely did, while others will say he is blameless. It all depends on who you ask.

But, when that man brought that fish back to his campsite and roasted it over the very flame that Ralios taught him how to create, his mouth began to salivate. The smells that came from the fish were absolutely intoxicating and something you just couldn’t get from a fruit or vegetable.

The moment he took the first bite, Men were doomed.

Something happened to the magic that flowed through the entirety of Addran when Man tasted another form of life. After Man tasted life, their immortality was taken. 

Ralios watched that first man eat that fish, and another fish, and another, and another until his family and their descendants ate it too. Word spread throughout Mankind about how absolutely delicious fish was, how it made them stronger, healthier, and able to perform better in every aspect. 

They could lift heavier objects, they could work longer hours in the field, everything seemed to be better after they began eating fish. And if fish tasted this good, do other animals taste that good as well?

Do chickens taste as good? Pigs? Cows? They absolutely did.

But, slowly but surely, Men began to wither and wrinkle and age.

There is much debate on why this is. What makes animal life different from plant life? What damned them? If Akthar made them, how come he can’t just make Man immortal again. But, even gods can’t explain everything. 

The first Man died in front of Akthar and Ralios’ very eyes. And the two deities watched as his soul left his body and then… hovered. It was such a strange sight. The soul continued on with its daily activities; it went down to the water and walked along the beach, it went back to the home where it grew up, it floated around its children and grandchildren.

But none of the other Men acknowledged the soul, they could not see it. Only the siblings could. 

Pain and despair came off the soul after a while. What good is going through a world surrounded by life only to be ignored by all?

After some time, the next Man died and the entire process started again. More sadness and more despair came from them. Every single moment of it hit Ralios in the heart.

He begged his siblings for help. What could they do? What could they possibly do for these souls who are leaving Addran?

Well, if they could create one world, couldn’t they make another for these poor souls?

So, they did.

Utrium is where all Men hope to go when their souls leave their bodies. It is where their ancestors reside. It’s where all those precious souls go once their lives on Addran are over. 

The four siblings worked and worked to create this world. They wanted it to be something even better than Addran, they wanted it to be a safe haven for these tortured souls so that they can rest easy after their departure.

But then the question is raised afterwards: Do all souls deserve to go to Utrium?

The short answer is no.

Much debate went into this, the siblings argued about it for eons on end while souls continued to stray on Addran. From all their bickering and arguing, without realizing it, the four deities created another, harsher, more foul world for all the darker souls to go once they have left their bodies. 

Ytrium.

Most of Addran refers to Ytrium as The Void. Souls do not really reside in Ytrium. It’s not really a physical place. 

It’s seen as more of a bottomless pit of sorts. There’s no living or residence in the void. If your soul goes to Ytrium, you no longer exist. Your soul is consumed entirely and you are no more than a memory until the last person on Addran forgets you. 

It’s cruel and terrible and not at all what any of the siblings had in mind for their creations but it was no longer in their hands anymore. Once something is created, it cannot be destroyed, that is the nature of the universe they reside in. 

None of the siblings look upon The Void favorably. But at the same time, Utrium was too much for any of them to handle.

Also, who are they to decide what souls go to Utrium and what souls go to Ytrium? 

That’s when they decided that two more deities needed to be created. But these two deities need to be on the same page about everything. They can not argue, they need to always see eye to eye, different sides of the same coin.

Akthar turned to Osren, his calmest and most soft spoken brother, and he asked him to assist with this– and his brother happily complied.

One entity was created by taking a piece of Osren’s soul. And then Akthar split this entity in half, thus creating Uddos and Ytris. 

They are identical twins in every sense of the word. The two of them are perfect, they are always in agreement, and they always do their job. Neither of them ever complain about their respective jobs or cause a fuss.

Legends like to depict Ytris as evil, as an imposing deity who takes pride in sending souls into The Void, and the Uddos is a perfect angel-like creature who never raises his voice.

But that cannot be further from the truth.

They’re both even tempered, perfect, content deities who rule judgment over each and every soul on Addran. 

These are The Six. The Mighty Six. The Holy Six. The Great Six. 

There are six deities that watch over and protect their precious souls on Addran.

And every single one has abandoned you. 

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

A strong, iron grip on your hair yanks your head backwards out of the large vat of water it was shoved in. Immediately, you gasp for air, the water cascades down your face and into your eyes which you can’t wipe due to your hands being bound behind your back.

“Let us try this again.” Seungmin’s voice sounds so different. It’s cruel and sends a chill down your spine. It lacks all the warmth you’ve grown to love.

You’re too busy gasping for air to notice how his hand loosens in your hair. 

“You are one of Bang’s court members, yes?”

No answer comes from your mouth. When your lips part, coughs and sputters fill the air. Your knees hurt so bad from kneeling on the stone in front of the water basin. 

The brown, murky water that he keeps shoving you into was clean when he first started. All the filth that now floats within it came from your own body.

He roughly jerks your head to get your attention. “Yes?” he repeats in a gruff tone.

“Rot in the Void,” you spit out and you swear you can hear Seungmin curse under his breath before your head is shoved back into the water basin.

There’s only just enough time for you to suck in a gasp of air before you’re plunged back into the filth below you.

This is the fifth time your head is submerged and you’re already feeling your spirit begin to shatter. 

Both of your hands clench into fists as you’re held down. Every single time he plunges your head down into the water, Seungmin manages to rip you out right before your lungs start to burn.

He’s doing this on purpose, you know this. If this was a different torturer, you would be gagging and begging for mercy already. But, right now, in this strange, demented, cruel twist of fate, you’re not the only one being tortured while your head is underwater.

Again, when you’re yanked out of the basin, you take a huge gulp of air and then quickly exhale, the water from your lips spraying out into the cell.

“You are not holding her down long enough,” Allerick says from off to the side. His voice is moving behind you as he circles around your body.

“It is plenty long given how broken her body is,” Seungmin replies to him. You can hear the reluctance in his voice, it’s a tone that you know but Allerick does not.

“All you are doing is giving her the first bath she has had in weeks.”

“We do not want to kill her.”

“Obviously. But your method is not working, Skye. She still has too much fight in her.” Allerick’s voice comes up right behind you. The heat from both men’s bodies radiate down to your brittle bones. “I thought you were an expert.”

“I am,” Seungmin growls back.

“Your methods are not working.”

“Did you think she would crack within the first five minutes? She killed half your battalion herself.” 

Allerick scoffs. “As much as I would love a show. We need information, and we need it now.”

“I told you I will get it.”

“Then prove it. Break her.”

Seungmin’s hand twitches in your hair before it tightens more.”In due time, Allerick–”

“No. Now. I need information now. ” Allerick interrupts him with a loud command and Seungmin’s hand yanks your head back sharply.

A hiss pulls from your lips at the sting and before you can even think twice, you’re plunged back into the basin.

Why is he so pressed for information? What deadline has been created for Erbus that he desperately needs you to talk?

Time ticks by and eventually your lungs let out the air that they were able to suck in before you were shoved down. The bubbles come out of your mouth and nose and pop at the surface.

It’s about thirty seconds in when your lungs start to burn.

It’s ten seconds after that when you realize that he truly has to break you now. Panic starts to set in– a natural instinct to being drowned.

As if you weren’t already broken enough.

Every single one of your limbs start to go cold, the lack of oxygen quickly spreading through your body. Instincts kick in and your body attempts to sit up. Your feeble muscles begin to push against the binds around your wrists.

Seungmin’s hand twitches on your head. He wants to yank you up just as much as you, but he can’t . You can practically feel his desperation in the way he’s gripping your hair.

Your body convulses under his hold, your shoulders shaking and chest sputtering. Underneath you, your knees jerk so violently that one slams into the metal. You want to scream, you want to move, but his hold is so firm.

Mercy. Mercy! Mercy! 

Every single one of your muscles spasms violently as you fight your natural instincts to inhale water. But it’s to no avail, your mouth opens and you gulp down a mouthful of filthy water.

That’s when you’re yanked from the water.

The sludge you inhaled is immediately vomited back up into the bin. Tears stream down your face as you cough and vomit and try to breathe at the same time.

“I will ask you again,” Seungmin’s voice wavers at the end. His hand is shaking in your hair. “You are one of Bang’s court members, yes ?”

Once everything is vomited back up, you’re coughing and heaving. The only reason you haven’t collapsed forward is because the rogue is holding you up by your scalp.

You can’t even form words, so you simply nod, drool and saliva drip from your lips.

“There it is,” Allerick says under his breath.

“Now that was not so hard, was it?” Seungmin hisses. “Now, let us start here: as a court member, you have access to the battle plans, no?”

You stay silent, your eyes slowly opening and staring blankly in front of you.

“Maybe you did not hear me.” Seungmin shoves your head down towards the water, not plunging you in yet, but close enough where you can now smell the horrid stench coming out of the water basin.

Not only does it have the filth from outside your body, but also inside.

An involuntary whimper comes out of your chest as you try to recoil away from the water basin.

“If you really did not want to go back in, you will answer the questions, Y/N. Plain and simple.”

Your energy is fading, your eyes are unfocusing on their own. Even though you’ve been plunged into water, your mouth is incredibly dry. 

Opening your mouth, you say the only thing you have energy to say.

“Fuck you.”

Allerick scoffs. It’s the only thing you hear before you’re underwater again.

The fear grasps your heart much quicker than it did last time. You would think after experiencing it once, you would be less afraid, but no, your body begins to shake and convulse much quicker than last time. 

You’re held down even longer this time. When the water enters your lungs, it has a moment to really sit in there before Seungmin takes you out.

Again, you vomit and cough and sputter and heave everything out of your body.

It burns.

By the Six, it burns so fucking bad. 

When did you start sobbing? 

Wails leave your throat as you cry and heave forward over the basin.

Now you’re sure that Seugmin’s hand is shaking in your hair.

“E-Enough…! Please!” Hyunjin’s voice cries out from the corner. It almost sounds like he’s sobbing too. Really, you had forgotten he was in the cell with you.

“Shut it, dagger ear!” Allerick barks at him. “Unless you want to trade places, I suggest you shut your filthy fucking mouth.”

Your chest is still heaving when Allerick leans down close in your ear. “Answer. The questions. Y/N.” His voice sends a chill down your spine. It curdles your blood and feels like poison in your veins.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. You’re already drained. They’ve only been at this for an hour, at most. But you can feel every single ounce of life drained out of your soul.

“Be a good girl for us, little mouse, and tell us exactly what we need.” He talks to you softly now. You watch his entire face soften and change into what you remember it looking like. The look in his eye is what you used to see every day when you were a youngling.

All those days under the sun in the back of the Fighter’s Guild come to mind. The feeling of his larger hand tightly clasped over yours as he teaches you how to hold a sword. The meals you two used to eat together at the wooden picnic table. 

“Come on, little mouse, do it for me.”

Would it be so bad to just give up?

Is any of this really worth it? What’s the point of hanging on when they’re just going to kill you anyway? If they kill you, you won't ever have to see Chan’s disappointed face when they find out you caved.

“Tell us who your allies are, Y/N.”

You blink slowly at Allerick. He’s still looking at you like you’re a child.

When you were a little elfling. And he didn’t even know it. That’s when the thought hits you: what would he have done to you if he found out you were an elf? What sort of sick torture would he have enacted upon an innocent, little being?

The very thought boils your blood. It stokes the dying fire within your soul. It creates a small spike of energy that you intend to use. 

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you quickly spit it directly into his face. 

Allerick recoils back. His face quickly twists and morphs into one of pure hatred . It’s a face you’ve never, ever been looked upon with before. It makes your heart stop.

He stands up quickly, wiping your spit from his face. And in one instant, he slams his boot down on your ankle. 

A scream tears out of your throat as the bone is snapped in half.

Allericks’ hand grasps the back of your head, replacing Seungmin’s and he shoves you back into the water, your body still writhing in pain and screaming in agony.

You don’t have the place of mind to not inhale the water. It happens instantly and every single movement your muscles make from that moment on is completely involuntary.

Convulsions and spasms wrack your body as you inhale water. The burning sensations from before are nothing compared to now. It’s like your entire body is on fire, right down to your fingertips.

In the distance, you can hear voices screaming at each other. 

The spasms begin to slow down as your body finally gives up. The hand on your head remains firm, but eventually, you lose all fight against it and your body falls down completely in the water as your mind blanks out.

If you’re yanked out of the water, you don’t know it. 

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

The burning, searing pain in your ankle is the first thing you notice. The second is the whimpering and crying coming from somewhere else in the room.

“Really? You are not going to tell us either?” 

Your brain won’t work. It;s like you’re coming out of the world’s longest nap. 

The floor underneath your slumped over body is so cold. Your body is on it’s side; underneath your face it feels wet. And it smells absolutely horrible.

“I-I am not telling you anyth- AH! ”

The scream is preceded by a snap! The very sound sends a chill down your spine and brings you further out of your stupor.

A cough tears through your chest and after a second, vomit is choked up with it. Acting on it’s on, your body turns over and you gag up water, spitting it onto the floor.

No one in the room seems to pay any mind to you.

Tiny sobs and pleads come from the center of the room.

“We will stop when you tell us what we need to know. Now, tell us who your allies are.” Each work is punctuated by the sound of punches.

More cries fill the cell. Your heart twists. No response comes out, only sobs and begs for mercy. 

After a few seconds of silence, one of the two men sigh. “We are not getting anywhere, Skye.”

“They are stubborn corpses, I will give them that.”

Skye. Seungmin. Skye. Seungmin. Skye. Seungmin.

Allerick. He’s with Allerick. Gods, you’re so confused. Why does everything feel difficult? You’re in a jail cell. You’re being tortured. You were waterboarded. 

It sounds like Seungmin turns and looks at you. Your body has already collapsed back down in the pool of your own tears and vomit. Your chest is heaving up and down, breathing in air shakily.

“I need a break. The smell in here is making me want to vomit,” Allerick grumbles and his boots walk towards the cell door. “Lock them back up. We will have to try something different.”

“Fine,” Seungmin grumbles and waits until a door opens and closes before it sounds like he falls to his knees in the middle of the jail cell. A short sob leaves his lips that he quickly muffles with his hand.

You have to give him credit. You would not have been able to keep it together if you were in his position.

“Hyunjin.. Hyunjin..” he chokes out. There’s some more movement within the cell.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin response shakily. “Check— Check on her. I am alive. Please check on her.”

There’s shuffling in the room and suddenly you’re enveloped in warmth. A trembling body lifts you into their arms with equally as shaky hands. You have no control over your muscles, they just feel like dead weight on your body.

“Y/N,” Seungmin sobs out. “Open your eyes, mercenary, please. Please open your eyes.”

A coughing fit crawls up your throat. Seungmin acts quickly and turns you on your side just in time for you to vomit once more.

He grips you tightly, you can feel his body shaking as he sobs. “Oh, gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I am so sorry. Six, please forgive me, Y/N, forgive me,” he rambles on and on with apologies. 

After your stomach and lungs are empty, he rolls you onto your back once more.

“Please, Y/N, open your eyes. Please, Six, please,” he begs with a hoarse voice. His fingers are gripping onto you so tightly, you’re sure it’ll leave bruises in your fragile, thin skin.

With strength you didn’t know you had, you crack your eyes open just enough to look up at Seungmin’s sobbing face. His eyes fly around your features, taking everything in. His hand comes up and cups your cheek.

Once you two make eye contact, he begins to cry even harder. “Y/N, please forgive me, please. I did not want this, I did not want to do this plan. It– It is only going to get worse. You have to start answering the questions, Y/N. Even if they are lies , you need to answer them!”

Gods, your ankle is positively throbbing.

“I should never have agreed to this, The Six know I am not strong enough for any more of this.”

His face should never look like this. He’s crying harder than you thought was possible for a man like him; someone who always has a knowing smirk on his face. No, no, it shouldn’t be like this. He should be teasing you.

Shakily, you bring your hand up and hold the one he has on your cheek.

Words won’t come out of your throat right now, but more is conveyed through this little grasp than anything you could possibly say right now.

Seungmin’s lip quivers and he rubs his thumb over your cheek, letting his built up tears from the day pour out and down his cheeks. 

There’s no other way anymore. 

He needs to do this. Hyunjin needs to do this. You need to do this. 

Right now, it’s the only way out.

“Just a few more days, Y/N, I promise. Hang in there, you need to hang in there. Live, Y/N, live. Please. You can do this. Live.”