#my ego will stay intact thank you very much~

[grimsley-official]

Maybe your ego needs to be humbled bc you look like that

Because I look like what…~? Anon, if you’re implying that you think I’m unattractive, I truly don't care. There’s a number of people who would disagree with you~

However, you’re entitled to your own opinion, it just simply doesn’t affect me~✨

[ladyzayismultifandom]

King of Second Chances

DomesticAvengers!Loki x Reader

Genre/Rating: tooth-rotting fluff with best friends to lovers

Description: Contrary to popular belief, Loki does have friends... just not on Asgard. Or Midgard. Except one.

After the battle of New York, Frigga managed to convince Odin one last time to have mercy on his adoptive son Loki who recently found that out in his defense but in no way can explain his revenge hostile attempted takeover of Midgard aka Earth. Odin decided that if some time on Earth managed to teach Thor the lesson he needed to learn to be worthy of the hammer, then Earth should be able to do the same for Loki.

So until he proves that he's not the evil ego-maniac that's co-dependent on the lie his father told him about being destined for greatness when he was a peace offer child, Loki is to stay on Earth.

Specifically in Avengers Tower under close surveillance.

None of the team especially Clint and Natasha wanted him there but they couldn't trust him living on his own with some of his magic still intact. So down the hall from Thor's room soon became Loki's room and they all lived happily ever after. Sort of

"Loki did you eat my Poptarts?"

"And why would I eat those disgusting sugar-coated sandwiches?'

"Because you know I like them?"

"Out" Thor suddenly falls through a hole Loki created sending him back to his room.

Loki looked up at the vents to make sure Clint wasn't in them before relaxing back in his bed with the book before he was once again interrupted by a knock on his door. He rolls his eyes begrudgingly before swinging the door open with a wave of his hand.

"Hey, Loki..."

"Yes, Y/N," Loki says not caring to lift his head away from his book.

"Can I hide my pop tarts in here? Thor keeps eating them."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I know you don't like them so Thor won't look for them here." Unable to argue with that, Loki shrugged.

"Very well. Hide them here"

"Yes!" you jumped onto his bed and hugged him tightly to you shocking the magical entity to his core.

"Thank you, Loki," you shock him again by giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

".... You're welcome"

This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Two years has gone by since then and while Loki is still not welcome back in Asgard he has regained almost all of his magical abilities, has been caught trying to go back twice, and with Frigga's help made his room in Avengers tower look almost identical to his chambers in the palace. One would say that he's gotten comfortable on Earth.

Loki still hides your Pop-Tarts in his room and several other things you don't want the team to see despite your room being one floor below his. The only ones who dare go in his room are you and sometimes Thor but he uses an illusion spell to make your stuff look like his so there is no suspense. You could have asked him to do that for your room but having some of your things in his room gives you the excuse to see him and everybody knows that. Except Loki of course.

After another successful mission with Natasha and her sister that she never mentioned until now you were back in Avengers Tower and you couldn't wait to tell your bestie all about it.

"LOKI!!!!" You burst through his door to find a towel around his waist and hair. His chest still had some water dripping down to a place that you didn't realize you'd want to see until now. Shit you're staring

"Um, I'll come back" You quickly closed the door and headed straight to the elevator. If anyone saw how you repeatedly pushed the close doors button they'd think you insane. You quickly went into your own room and let out the breath you had been holding only to open your eyes to-

"You know you were much cuter when you were afraid to knock on my door." You jumped holding your hand to your chest wishing your heart could just calm down but the man you just ran away from clearly transported to your room.

"I see you gained more of your magic back."

"One of my favorite tricks." Loki held up a bag of sweets. He patted the spot next to him on your bed and it was like you never left. You happily jumped into his arms. Let the celebration begin.

“So Agent Romanoff wasn’t alone before Barton came around. Interesting. Hit me” He opened his mouth and you gave him another caramel candy. Something you like to do when debriefing your missions with him is to eat sweets and comb his hair. He’ll never admit it but hearing your voice with your hands massaging his scalp made him feel like a King.

“I know right?! I can’t believe she’s been hiding that from us this whole time. I thought we’d run out of secrets in Avengers Tower by now. What about you?”

“Mm that feels nice” he whispered to himself not paying attention. You took a curl of his and wrapped it around your finger before yanking harder than usual.

“Ow!” He looked up at you

“Now that I have your attention what did you do while I was gone?” You held up your brush threateningly at him. Chuckling he laid his head back down in your lap closing his eyes without any sign of fear.

“I read, painted, slept, squabbled with my oaf of a brother, the usual.”

“Do you ever think the two of you will be as close as you were back then?”

“I’m not sure. I did try to kill him after all but he does try. I’ll give him that.”

“You tried to kill me too” You mumbled

“You’re different.”

“How different?” You continue brushing his hair slowly. Like a cat he purrs.

“You are… kind in a way that’s admirable and naive yet you hunt people for a living. It’s confusing.” You gently take his head in your hands staring right into his emerald green eyes.

“Are you saying I should consider a new career path?”

“I’m saying you are the most dangerous being in the nine realms.” He whispered.

“And your best friend” You whispered back coming a little closer.

“My only friend” The two of you smile at each other.

“Jarvis please tell me you got that” The two of you sat up quickly embarrassed that you’d been caught by Tony in what would look like two lovers staring into each others eyes even though you were nothing more than friends. Right? Without a thought you chased Tony all around the tower with your brush desperately trying to get that footage of the two of you.

Unsure of when it started Loki realized that the beautiful friendship that once was had blossomed into something else entirely. He was bound to mess it up but he knew you’d give him a second chance. He is the king of those after all and you are worth all the chances he can get.

A/N: Happy Loki day! I was supposed to post this the other day but I didn’t know what I wanted to write yet. Thanks for your patience. There’s more to come!

[theprincessandherloyalprotector]

“Lord Hightower!” I call, loud enough to be heard by others so he must stop.

I distract him with conversation, asking him about the rumor I heard that a Stark will be visiting.

It gives Daemon ten minutes.

In that time, Daemon not only lights Viserys up for listening to an idiot such as Otto himself, but also pleads for the marriage to stay intact.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Daemon breathes. “Please… I almost died out there for you, brother. Fighting for your name. Your power. Your rule. The least you can do is- is thank me or reward me by keeping my course toward the crown straight. By marrying me to Lili and- and guaranteeing yourself at least one purebred Targaryen to carry on the family line. You won’t get that if she marries a Stark. You’re not even getting that if you marry Rhaenyra and Laenor. This is your one. chance. to have true, pure Targaryen blood. Please, Viserys. I never ask very much of you. Ever.”

Viserys sighs and studies the crowd, shaking his head a little to himself. “I will- work something else out with the Stark boy. And I will carry on with your wedding to Lilium. I cannot promise you the title of heir until you prove to me that you can do it. That you are mature and… safe and responsible.”

Daemon holds back a shaky breath and nods a little.

He shouldn’t have to prove himself. Not after he didn’t even choose to be sent away for two years.

But if that’s what it takes.

“I’ll prove it to you.” He murmurs. “I’ll prove it to you. And to Otto. And to any other bastard out there who believes I shouldn’t sit in that fucking chair one day. I want the wedding in one month. Sooner, if possible. And if you go back on your word, Viserys, I’ll… your actions will have consequences. I’ll see to that.”

He gets up and kicks his chair back from the table, quickly moving down the steps and out the side exit.

How is it that he returned feeling like the greatest man to ever live, only to now retire to his chambers feeling no bigger than a crab crushed under Caraxes’ foot?

His brother always had a way of tearing him down, despite his efforts to build an indestructible ego.

[nightmarealm]

A glare accompanied by a deep frown greets the others cackle - maybe he gets why so many people can't stand it when he does that - really just trying to delve into the others soul with it while he brushes him off. He'd be impressed at the others intact ego, but he's also very aware of who it is he's dealing with. He'd like to have this done with as soon as physically possible, but if Ford insists on working himself in a corner beforehand, then fine. It just gives him more time to think of ways he could regret it, including but not limited to dumping half the weapons stash off the ship. Or, if he really felt like acting today, gambling the vast majority of his funds to Fez.

Thankfully for Ford, it seems he won't be needing to pull any of those cards today. Personal experience tells him the moment he loses balance like that, he isn't staying up for very long. He's quickly proven right, and a cackle rings out as he promptly eats shit on the ships deck. He strolls up, crouching down next to him with a smug grin. If he had a stick he'd be poking him like roadkill.

"It looks like I can be 5 feet away and you still don't know how to handle yourself!"

The heels are picked up after they're kicked off - he does not feel like losing these things, he quite likes them - and the chuckles only continue seeing that he'd managed to get a splinter in his eye already. Frankly, it isn't his problem right now, so he doesn't care much about seeing himself injured. White begins pooling out of his eye, but again, that sounds like not his problem right now. If it's bad enough, he'll regrow the whole thing later, but he doubts it. Dare he say he's pretty thankful for the whole thing right now, seeing how the injury makes him a fair bit more cooperative. Tucking the heels away in one of Sixers many coat pockets, he smacks his hands together triumphantly.

"I knew you'd see it my way! Now, unless you feel like managing to lose the whole eye on top of everything else, our joint venture is hereby expedited to THE top priority. There's no time for books, or sleep, or anything else now. So, what are you bringing to the table, what device do you have hidden away that's changing the game here?"

"Need you?! Hahaha!" Hilarious! Ford! Need Bill! Couldn't be further from the truth, actually! If anyone can do it, it's going to be Ford, body-swapping be damned! He'll handle it! Nothing on this world - or any other, for that matter - will compel him to admit it to be truth.

"Even if I needed your help -" he pointed a finger up at Cipher, waving it at him after every pause - "which, mind you, I don't... What makes you think I'll even consider working with you again? I don't want you to do a thing while I'm working. Perhaps you could pick up a book instead- " he goes to take a few steps forward as he talks, wobbling in Cipher's accursed heels(how does anyone handle walking in these things all the time?!) - "You just have to stay out of my way aaaaan-GH!" THUD! ...Any normal person probably would be crying in out from the pain right now. His eye stings. There's a twinge of pain in the back of his foot as well. Pain's... normal, though, to Stanford. It hurts, but he can shove it into the back of his mind and allow it to fall in the background. ...But he's not about to tolerate these heels anymore. Not after falling eye-first onto the boat like that. Ford lifts himself up until he is sitting on the ground, grumbling to himself as he starts to kick off the stupid, stupid heels. There's a weird spot in the corner of his vision where the pain is the worst - but it's fine. Fine. Just give it a moment, it'll go back to normal. Or two moments. ...Three? Is there something there? Once the heels are kicked off, he lifts a hand towards his eye, and yanks on the suspiciously sharp, pointy 'dot.' A splinter. There's a deep, heavy sigh as he feels liquid start to pool around the eyelid. Is it tears or blood? Ford can't tell, and he's not about to wipe it away to find out. "...Fine." He's not happy about being proven wrong, especially so quickly. Yes, fine, he does need Cipher's help, especially now. Who would know about Cipher's body other than Cipher? It's ill-advised to remove things that puncture the eye. He can only imagine the same holds true for someone like Cipher. Stupid... At least it doesn't hurt. Or, well, actually... if he focuses for a moment, yes, it does hurt... but it's fine. It's not a bad injury! And he's not just saying that because of his indifference towards the sensation!

[writemekpop]

Positions | Na Jaemin

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

Summary: Jaemin is the best husband and daddy. He’s always there to help - in the kitchen and in the bedroom... 

Genre: Stay at home dad!Jaemin, fluff, suggestive

Word Count: 0.6k

Gif: Source

Warnings: Sexual content, sexy times after the kids are asleep

“Say goodbye to Mummy!”

Jaemin sat at the kitchen island, squeezed between your two-year-old twins: Minhyuck and Minsoo, who were strapped into their highchairs.

“Oh my gorgeous boys, I miss you already!” You bent down and kissed each of your sons’ chubby cheeks in turn. “Don’t forget about me when I’m at work today.”

Jaemin cleared his throat. “And what about this gorgeous boy? Don’t I get a kiss?” He closed his eyes and stuck out his lips in a silly pout.

Giggling, you gave him a quick peck. Jaemin tasted like the raspberry smoothie he’d made for the kids for breakfast.

Jaemin squeezed your hand. “Don’t worry about us, baby. Go and be a badass banker. I need you to fund my shopping habit!”

You giggled. “Only Gucci for my king.”

Tying your hair in a sleek low ponytail, you made for the door. Suddenly, you heard Minsoo whimper. Oh no.

“Mama no go!” he wailed, trying to grab you with his chubby hands. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

As if on cue, his brother started to cry too - both toddlers were bright red and screaming.

It was already 8.15. You groaned. You couldn’t be late on your first day back after a two-year break!

Instinct made you reach for your son. But before you could get to him, Jaemin blocked your way.

He cupped your cheeks in his large hands. “Go. Daddy’s got this.”

“Are you sure?”

Jaemin gently wiped a tear that had rolled onto your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sure,” he said, smiling. “Now go and bring home the bacon, sexy!”

Jaemin slapped your ass playfully, making you laugh as you left the kitchen.

As you left the house, you could hear him singing a song to calm down the twins.  

---

The day passed by faster than you’d expected. Any worries about your boys were swept away in the thrill of banking.

“Honey, I’m home!” You called at 7PM, satisfied with a good day's work.

Just then, you heard the sound of pattering feet.

Two little toddlers dressed in identical pink onesies sprinted into the hallway on little legs.

“Mama!” They squealed.

You squeezed your baby boys tight. Your face glistened with their sloppy kisses, but you didn’t mind - you could burst with happiness.

Jaemin sauntered in. His white T shirt was splattered with paint, (no doubt thanks to your angel sons), but he still looked devastatingly handsome.

“Hello, wifey. We missed you!”

After eating dinner and putting the twins to sleep, you and Jaemin retired to your bedroom. Finally, you had the chance to talk as adults.

You watched Jaemin pull off his T shirt, leaving just his black boxers.

“J, you’re okay with staying at home with the kids? It’s not impacting your… male ego, is it?”

“Ha!” You watched his abs tighten as his body shook with laughter.

Jaemin smirked. “My male ego is very much intact. In fact… it’s rock hard.”

“Oh really?” You grabbed the waistband of Jaemin’s boxers and pulled him towards you.

Jaemin let your hands roam his sculpted chest. “You know I’m always hot for you," he murmured.

You kissed his belly button, looking up to meet his eyes. Your lips brushed the fine black hairs on his taut stomach.

Jaemin gazed down at you with hazy eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I do have one request,” he said, in a husky whisper.

“Anything for you, husband.” Your tummy fluttered with excitement.

He guided your hand to his boxers, pressing your fingers onto his growing bulge.

"Kiss me."

---

MASTERLIST

[gothhisoka]

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 (𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖝 𝕱𝖊𝖒𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

Title: Worship

Pairing: Chrollo x Femreader

Warnings: Smut, minors DNI, 18+, explicit content

Word Count: 3116 (I promise it is worth it. Oh god is it worth it)

Note: This is from my cross-published fanfic called Hunter University! It is available if you click here on Wattpad and AO3. My fanfic is x OC, but I upload x Reader versions of some chapters here on Tumblr. In short, it is a dark academia college AU with Chrollo as the main love interest.

Background: You are an artist in college and Chrollo is your fellow classmate. You just returned from a night out at a ball, drunk. Chrollo appeared at the door to your dorm room as he promised he would after you danced with one another at the ball.

Chrollo was surprised you looked so intact. He was sure you would come waddling to the door in pajamas as you did the last time he visited your room. Although it had been an hour since the ball ended, your makeup hadn't smudged a bit. Sure, it was faded, and your hair was significantly messier, but overall you looked as remarkable as you did at the start of the ball.

Your tired eyes widened with surprise at the sight of him. He was just as unimpaired as you were. Though now he was missing his suit jacket. His hair had become slightly disheveled, losing its styled waves. He still had on those signature silver rings and little cross earrings.

You attempt to soak in his sight with your intoxicated brain. He looked even more captivating in this particular state.

“Hi…” was all you could utter.

“Can I come in?”

You realized he was waiting for your permission. He didn’t need it.

You stepped aside to let him in and shut the door. Your room was the same as the last time he saw it, with your drawings hung on the walls and lights strung above the desk. Their small bulbs reflected against the night-stained window.

Upon shutting the door, the tension noticeably rose. It was dark in the small space and you were alone. Chrollo took his black dress shoes off near the door, placing them neatly side by side.

So he plans on staying. You tried to hide a smile. The hour of his visit was surely suspicious. There could be only one thing on his mind.

"So what're you doing here?" you spoke nonchalantly, acting like you didn't just fantasize about what could happen in the next few minutes.

Chrollo opened and shut his mouth, his response escaping him. He turned back to you and used his eyes to convey a craving far deeper than any words could admit.

"I said I would come to find you, didn't I?" He said lowly.

He had begun to walk around the room, absentmindedly stopping at a piece of art from time to time. You were too tired to care. The collection included nature scenes, portraits of people he didn't recognize, anatomy studies, and...

He paused, noticing a drawing on the wall behind the place where the door would otherwise be covering.

It was a full-body anatomy study of yourself. To be specific, it would fit further in the category of a glorified nude. It was on a miniature piece of parchment sketched in charcoal. It was obviously you: the woman had your (hair color) hair and distinct mouth and nose. The paper was hardly noticeable amongst the scatter of papers. You wouldn't see it unless you had a careful eye such as that of Chrollo.

You hardly noticed when he reached the particular spot on your wall. Your tiredness had waned significantly with Chrollo's entrance, but it still fogged your mind.

Additionally, you had long forgotten about your secret behind-the-door location for your drawings that were not meant to be seen by a single soul.

Chrollo attempted to hide a mysterious smile. He turned to you, “You draw wonderfully.”

“Thanks?” you reply, with more question in your tone than you hoped to show.

The heat in the room shot through the roof. You were sure if you checked the temperature it would be well above its normal chilly state. Perhaps it was the heat in your cheeks that was causing such a change.

“So…” he began.

“So,” you replied, trying to avoid eye contact. Please, just let it happen already.

You thought you had a good idea of why he had come to your room at one o'clock in the morning after a night of drinking and questionably close dancing. You couldn't be certain, though, because that was just how he was: unpredictable and exceedingly complicated.

You didn’t think him so complicated as to not be able to admit why he was at your room, though.

You waited as he thought about what to say next. This is taking too damn long.

Luckily, you prepared an excuse. You never failed to come ready for something you could expect. And this, the direction in which your encounter is headed, is inevitable. You had been rehearsing the line in your head for the duration of their conversation like reviewing terms for a test.

This was the only way to test if your assumptions are correct.

Blame it on the champagne if I am wrong. But I really hope I'm right.

You look directly at him. Time to be daring.

You took a breath and did your best to look directly at him, "Well, I actually do need some help. You see, this dress is quite difficult to take off by myself..."

Walking towards him, you place a hand at the hem of your dress. Your delicate fingers wrap around its lacy fabric.

Chrollo looked amused. He sizes you up, looking from your hand holding the hem of your dress to your unfazed expression. Unfazed, yet your cheeks were slowly turning a shade of scarlet. Nice try, Chrollo thought.

He gestured, "Turn around."

You obeyed. You desired something far more than the unzipping of your dress, but you were not presumptuous enough to say it. The expression on Chrollo's face told you that he was hoping for the same thing. He hid many emotions well, but being turned on wasn't one of them.

Chrollo brushed your hair away from the zipper, delicately placing it over your shoulder. His fingers purposefully grazed your back as he did this, causing your breath to hitch slightly.

His hands moved to the zipper, carefully pulling it down. It went past the clasp of your bra to your lower back. There was complete silence. Both of you were still. Are we still hesitating?

Chrollo was the first to move. He pulled you close to him so that your back was touching him. His left arm wrapped across your chest possessively, holding you in a tight embrace. With his other hand, he brushed your hair back from your ear. He smelt of sweet alcohol. Clearly, he was slightly drunk as well, for the next words he said couldn't be uttered by a sober man.

His whispered breath tickled your neck, husky with the threat of sleep, "I want you so bad right now."

You tensed with a sudden surge of desire. Your impression had been right. He let his strong arm remain around you, patiently waiting for a response.

You choked out your reply, "The feelings' mutual."

Under his touch, your streak of audacity from earlier dissolved into compliance. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to submit to his words.

With complete control, Chrollo took your shoulder and turned you around. Your dress was now loose on your shoulders. He placed his hands around your hips firmly. He looked at you under his thick eyelashes and slowly leaned in. The pressure was growing to an unbearable level, but he still wouldn't go all the way.

Then his lips crashed against yours with the force of weeks of pent-up desire. This kiss didn't speak of courtesy, of patience. This was raw passion. It was furious and messy. you preferred this to sensitive steps around the intensity they both craved.

"You must still be drunk," you said playfully as you both pulled away to catch your breath. You held your hand to Chrollo's chest. His heart was beating surprisingly fast.

"If I'm drunk, then what are you?" Chrollo said with a lazy smirk.

"I'm drunk as well."

Chrollo threaded his hands through your hair, pulling the long strands through his fingers. He pulled you in close again with his hand at the back of your head.

You opened your mouth to allow for Chrollo's tongue to slip in. He lessened the intensity and slowly moved his tongue against your own tongue and lips. You couldn't help but let out soft moans that made Chrollo weak at the knees.

He pushed you against the wall to deepen your kiss. Drawings fluttered down, becoming detached with the sudden movement. Including that drawing.

Chrollo pulled away, much to your shock. You were left panting with reddened cheeks. Please don't let this end now.

He displayed a shit-eating grin. Even with his ego, in the current moment, his expression made you melt. His face was inches from yours, looking down into your (eye color) eyes.

He shifted his gaze down to the floor and said, "Nice drawing you have there."

You finally noticed what he had been so smug about. Shit. Your face flushed ten different shades of scarlet.

Chrollo leaned in as he did before and murmured in your ear, "I wish I could see the real thing."

You failed to not show your excitement. The way your eyes lit up exposed you. "I can arrange that."

At that, Chrollo leaned in again, this time moving to your neck. His lips fluttered down your throat to your collarbone. You leaned your head back and tried to control your uneven breath.

His lips reached the edge of the neckline on your dress. He raised his eyes to meet yours, asking for permission to go further.

You let out a breathy, "Yes. Please."

What you wanted to say was, Please, take me now.

It could be too soon for him. But based on how this was going, you expected it was leading to something more. Whatever that was, you wished you could know right now. The growing tension between your thighs began to ache.

Chrollo slipped his hand across your skin to the hemline of your dress, moving it completely off of your shoulder and down your arms. Your black see-through bra was now in full view. Your nipples grew hard at the sudden exposure.

At least I went with my fancy bra. You suddenly grew very shy. The last time you went even this far was years ago.

He evidently liked the lingerie for his hands immediately traveled to your breast to caress it as he continued to kiss you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against your neck. Your heart fluttered at his words.

Chrollo then moved his lips progressively further down as he slipped your dress off of your body. Soon your underwear came into view, then your feet. He helped your step out of the dress.

"Your turn," you said, unbuttoning his shirt. All the while he continued to distractingly leave lazy kisses upon your face, one on your forehead, your cheek, your lips.

After an agonizingly long time, you pulled off his shirt. Fuck.

You knew he would be defined. But him, this boy standing in front of you, resembled more of a greek statue than an actual human. It looked like his body had been sculpted by the finest stone on earth. He had a six-pack, defined pectoral muscles, and prominent collarbones. His biceps flexed as he leaned his hand against the wall, bracing himself. It was you who needed to brace yourself. Your breath hitched again at the sight of him.

You ran a hand up his firm body as you planted your lips upon his once again. This time Chrollo put his hands beneath your thighs, his fingers pressing into your soft skin. He picked you up easily.

You wrapped your legs around him as he brought you to the bed, kissing him all the while.

He dropped you down gently, releasing his grip off of your thighs. You took this time to look up at him and admire the beauty of his aroused state. He had a dangerous and wild look, with tousled hair and a constant smile playing at his lips. His heavy-lidded eyes were lazily focused upon you.

You continued to make out on the bed, its white silk sheets creating an angelic halo around you. Chrollo couldn't stand looking at you like this, underneath him. It was far too much power for one man to hold.

You reached to your back to undo the clasp of your bra. You threw it to the ground. Chrollo immediately began to touch your naked tits in a way that made you want to dissolve. He moved in circles around your nipples first, watching as they grew harder under his expert touch. Then he moved his mouth to the sensitive area, playing with you and biting slightly. You audibly moaned at the gesture. Damn the neighbors.

Chrollo sensed your desire to take it further. He looked up, grey eyes filled with lust, "Y/n...let me pleasure you."

It wasn't the suggestion you were expecting, but you were satisfied nonetheless. You didn't care about anything in the world besides what he could do to you at this moment, whatever it may be.

"If you say my name like that you can do anything you want to me," you said breathily. It was exactly what he needed to hear.

Chrollo smirked and moved to take off your soaking underwear. Under his pants, his dick grew visibly harder. He threw the underwear onto the floor.

Gently placing his finger at your throbbing core, he began to stroke. Upon receiving his touch your back arched involuntarily. You were beyond eager.

"Fuck... Chrollo..."

This served as encouragement for him to insert his finger deeper into you, curling it slightly. It hit your g-spot repeatedly, eliciting ungodly sounds from you.

As he was doing this, he slowly positioned himself on top of you, grabbing onto the bed frame with his spare hand. He just wanted to look at your face as you opened your mouth in delight.

He inserted one more finger which caused your arousal to heighten. God, he really knows how to do this.

Just as you felt the heat in your core escalating, he slid his finger out. You whimpered in protest.

Chrollo looked down at you with a wicked smile. "Beg for it."

Oh fuck.

You gladly would. It was more your instincts speaking than any coherent thought.

"Please... Chrollo..." you said between breaths.

You wanted to not only plead for him, you wanted to worship him.

"More."

This is what you had been missing out on all those weeks. And oh god, did you eat it up.

"FUCK please do that again," you exclaimed.

It was enough to convince him. Chrollo moved his face towards your slickened pussy.

Is he about to...

He pushed his hair back out of his face with his clean hand, his forehead tattoo revealed. For only a second, he raised his eyes to gaze into yours. You fell for him all over again at that simple glance.

Then he entered you. His tongue made you want to weep. He devoured your insides, soaking up the salty juices. You couldn't help but hold his head, pulling it closer to your body. You ran your hand through his soft black hair. There was so much heat between them that you were both perspiring.

You began to shudder." I'm going to... oh... fuck," you gasped.

You felt the sweet release of cum spread below you onto the sheets and Chrollo himself. You felt self-conscious for a moment. That is until Chrollo began to lick up your juices. He ran his tongue up your soft thighs.

"You taste so fucking good, darling."

Chrollo looked at you like he had fallen all over again as well. You grinned back at him. Your cheeks grew even redder, if possible. Your heart screamed to continue but you were too physically exhausted to move. Still, wouldn't Chrollo want his turn?

You laid there, naked and panting on the silk sheets. Chrollo flopped next to you, unaffected beside his flushed cheeks and a wide grin.

The lights were still low in the little room. Looking out the window, you saw that the sun had yet to rise. This was a positive fact because the only thing you needed to do now was to sleep. And preferably, cuddling with the boy next to you. You hoped he would stay. It was more than hope, really. Your body couldn't spend any more time away from him after that.

Damn. He was good. He was really, really fucking good.

He knew his way with words, to begin with. He said exactly what needed to be said to escalate your arousal. You wanted to worship those fingers, the way he so expertly felt around you like he had memorized a map. And his tongue was even more worthy of revere.

You flipped over to your elbows. Your breasts brushed against the bedding, noticeably making Chrollo gulp. You boldly reached to touch the front of his pants.

"You don't want a turn?" you smirked.

"This was more than enough for me."

He stared into your eyes as if he was calculating a complex math problem rather than looking at the person who just received the best head of their life.

You yawned, despite yourself. Your body ached with all the action of the night.

"Go to bed, sweetheart. I'll be here."

Those were the last words you heard before your eyes drifted shut. Exhaustion stilled your naked body. Chrollo reached over you to turn off the bedside lamp.

He wasn't nearly as tired. He could've gone for a couple more rounds, perhaps take it a step further if you so desired. But he knew you needed the sleep. Most of your makeup had rubbed off, displaying the dark circles under your eyes.

He slipped off his pants and threw them onto the floor with the rest of the clothes. He found the soft sheets and pulled them across you and himself. The bed was small but cozy. His strong chest was flush against your back.

Your (hair color) hair smelt of a summer day, like sunlight and wildflowers. He took this opportunity to feel up the rest of your glorious body. He ran his hand lightly from your shoulder to your hips, to your thighs. All of it was angelic to him.

He moved you closer with his arm, protectively wrapping it across your front. Somehow holding you like this felt far more intimate than any sexual activity. The way the moonlight graced your skin was majestic.

How had he fallen so hard, so fast? It was unlike him to act with such recklessness.

Through it all, he still had his mind. you had no way to tell the extent of his feelings. He made sure of this. His libido could act one way, that was clear from tonight. But he was an expert at controlling his outward emotions. You would never know. If you did, it would be over for him. All the planning will be for naught.

He closed his eyes before he could fall upon any more worries. He had already pondered the issue for many sleepless nights.

He fell into a dreamless slumber with you safe in his arms. You both slept soundly until the sun peeked through the window.

[fancoloredglasses]

Lois & Clark: the New Adventures of Superman (a super-powered rom-com)

(Thanks to Omar David)

[All images are owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros Discovery. Please don’t sue me]

I would like to start by saying it must be extremely difficult to write for any media where Superman is involves, whether comics, TV, movies, books, radio, etc. I mean, the guy is stupid-strong, stupid-invulnerable, stupid-fast, and has a metric shit-ton of powers that put him leagues ahead of anyone he might square off against.

Therefore, you have a few options:

Create adversaries on his power level (like DC did with Doomsday in The Death of Superman), but then you have an opponent that’s on Superman’s level that the rest of the lineup will have to deal with.

Give him an opponent who works behind the scenes who undermines his image and confidence (and might be able to tweak his nose a few times as well), which is why Lex Luthor exists. However, without giving Superman  someone to punch, the readers will get bored after a while.

Give him some very specific weaknesses (such as a certain green rock), but you can’t have Kryptonite constantly showing up to Save The Day for the bad guys.

Make it more about the human side than the super side. However, much like my second option, people are eventually want to see the hero just punch things.

Make it campy (see Superman III and IV), and you can watch those films to see how horribly wrong that can go.

...which bring us to Lois & Clark. The show (thankfully) didn’t make a powerful adversary (or at least they gave themselves a way to remove the threat from the series the few times they did), but ticked the other four boxes (though to be fair, there’s no way they could NOT use Kryptonite in some way)

This was the first time we saw a post-Crisis on Infinite Earths version of Superman (as originally depicted by legendary writer/artist John Byrne in 1986) on screen, and there were a ton of changes...

His core powers were somewhat diminished from the Silver Age

A lot of his more absurd powers (such as destroying planets with a sneeze, rebuilding the Great Wall of Chine with his vision, and his “amnesia kiss”) were gone

He knew nothing about Krypton save that he was originally born there (the Silver Age Superman was constantly referencing Krypton)

He was the sole survivor (no Supergirl, General Zod, or Krypto the Super Dog)

His costume wasn’t made of Kryptonian fabric (meaning it was also invulnerable, but just normal fabric (which, thanks to an “aura” around Superman, meant it stayed intact through most of his battles, though Byrne loved to draw the cape getting torn in every fight!)

In the comics, the S-symbol was made after the Daily Planet coined the phrase “Superman” following his first public appearance, as opposed to being a Kryptonian relic.

And, most importantly, Martha and Jonathan Kent were alive and well in Smallville (in the Golden and Silver Ages, Pa Kent died when Clark was a teenager)

Most of these elements remained for Lois & Clark, though the writers reverted the S-Symbol to being from Kal-El’s rocket.

But enough of the exposition, on to the meat of the series!

The show follows Clark Kent (played by Dean Cain, who would return into Kryptonian orbit a number of years later as Supergirl’s adopted father), intrepid reporter for the Daily Planet (in a time where newspapers were a hell of a lot more relevant than they are now) and his alter ego...

...Superman. I should note that when we first see Clark (before he even has the iconic costume of his alter ego designed for him by his mother) he’s already wearing glasses. Exactly why is he doing that if he has no alter identity to conceal?

And what is Clark Kent/Superman without Lois Lane (played by Teri Hatcher)? Cain and Hatcher had awesome chemistry as friends/rivals as well as able to play the “will they/won’t they” tension very well (at least until they actually did)

The pair’s first meeting with Clark “in costume” was...kind of explosive.

(Thanks to DJDoena)

But the Daily Planet is more than just Lane and Kent (as much as they seem to hog the front page), so rounding out the Planet’s staff (at least the ones in the opening credits) are...

...Daily Planet Editor in Chief Perry White, who is Metropolis’s biggest Elvis fan...

...and Perry’s gopher (and later staff photographer) Jimmy Olson. However, the producers thought the actor looked a bit too much like Cain...

...so he was replaced in season 2.

Also a casualty in season 2 was Society Pages columnist Cat Grant. The producers felt the character was a bit too “risque” for their target audience (often rumored to be sleeping with fellow staff members) and she didn’t return after season 1.

As I mentioned earlier in this review, Martha and Jonathan Kent are alive and well (and apparently Smallville is close enough to Metropolis that they occasionally make trips there) Jonathan is a down-to-earth kinda guy while Martha is constantly trying to expand her horizons (usually with a new hobby every week...

(Thanks to Guardian Images)

...including sewing)

But what is Superman without a great villain...

...and he got a hell of one with Lex Luthor (played by John Shea). One other HUGE change in the Superman mythos was to Luthor. After Crisis he drastically changed from a “FOOLS! I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL MUHAHAHAHAHA!”-type mad scientist to a brilliant (and thoroughly corrupt) industrialist who would bend the legal system to keep his hands clean despite some blatantly obvious criminal activities (and managed to thumb his nose at Superman every time), and he was written to perfection in season 1. However, due to scheduling conflicts, he was written out with panache...

(thanks to ScreenBlaster13)

However, this being super-heroes, he came back from the dead for a couple of guest appearances.

The tone of the show was kept light, bordering on silly at times (such as casting Sonny Bono as mayor (and having him constantly dropping Sonny & Cher lyrics in his speeches) or having an episode where prohibition-era gangsters are cloned and allowed to run rampant in Metropolis) While Superman was a big part of the series, the fact that he was almost an afterthought in the show’s title should show where the real focus of the show was.

For two seasons, the show centered on the rivalry and budding relationship between Lois and Clark, then in season 3 the romance really kicked into gear, culminating in their marriage. Unfortunately, by then the series was starting to unravel, completely coming apart by the time the series was cancelled at the end of season 4.

As always, if you would like to say a particular episode reviewed, please let me know!

[lovelybarnes]

god- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other avengers x reader

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, veryyy little angst

about: requested! loki gets captured by avengers and healer!reader watches him

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! i am so sorry it took me this long to finish it, and it came out so much longer than i planned, but i didn’t want loki to be ooc, i hope this was good!!

part two

the words you’ve been reading over and over again are beginning to blur. you can’t find it in yourself to care too much, instead choosing to shut the book and stare at the door. your fingers are tapping on the hard plastic protecting the thin cot underneath you, and you try to concentrate on the noise rather than the worry you can’t seem to shake.

they were supposed to be back by now, you think, teeth finding your bottom lip. you weren’t allowed on this mission. while they said the reason you were staying was because they didn’t need everyone, the blatant absence of every single avenger and extended hero said the opposite. you knew the reality was that the threat you weren’t even informed about was greater than usual, and while you had powers, they weren’t as helpful as others when it came to fighting.

so you were stuck waiting for the teammates you hadn’t heard from for nearly ten hours, only able to stand by until they inevitably came back with cuts and bruises for you to fix. halting the thought of if before you could think more of it, you stood, beginning to set up all the medical equipment you usually use for when they arrive. you’re distracting yourself with pointlessly organizing popsicle sticks that you won’t need when you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hallway. you immediately look out your open door, expecting to see the avengers, bringing the smell of blood and exhaustion, not… loki.

you can’t seem to stop how your lips part and your eyes follow him as he nears, suddenly catching his eyes through the movement of the agents surrounding him. your face heats when his lips quirk up in a small smile, sending you a flirty wink before he’s passed and you are left staring at the trace of him. you’re in a trance, and as much as you’d like to blame it on the god’s magic, you know it’s simply how attracted you are to him, even when you know you shouldn’t be.

you’ve never had a conversation with the god, barely been in the same vicinity as him, and your mind seems to be flooded with him. the avengers rarely talk about him, and on the occasion they do, it’s never remotely kind. you understand why- you saw the damage he’d caused in new york, but the more you read on him, the more you can somewhat understand why he did it, as inappropriate as it is. you’d asked thor to bring you books from asgard that loki has read and asked him to tell you about loki.

you can’t help it- the god is intriguing; it’s so magnificent how powerful he is that it nears terrifying, and he’s so stunning you’re concerned you’d make a fool of yourself in front of him, or cut your fingers on his cheekbones (although how the hell would your fingers get there? you prefer to not think too much into your impossible fantasies).

you’re not even completely certain that what just happened actually happened- because there is no way loki laufeyson looked at a puny mortal like you and didn’t gag.

a hand dropping on your shoulder is what snaps you out of it, turning around to see sam and bucky, “you good?” sam asks, and you nod, scanning the men for the injuries they came to you for. sam has a large gash along his thigh that you can see through a slash on his uniform, and forming bruises along the rest of his body, tiny cuts scattered on his face. bucky is considerably better, his speed healing is helping. there is dried blood that you’ll clean later on his face, small and slightly more serious cuts all over him but already healing, and a clearly dislocated shoulder that he set.

“alright, sam, you know the drill. bucky, please don’t grab any medical supplies and stitch anything like last time and just let me do my thing,” you request, lowering the stretcher so sam doesn’t stress any of his injuries when he sits. “lay down so i can get to work on that cut on your leg, sam.”

you help him on the bed and let him settle down by himself while you soak gauze in antiseptic for bucky. sam’s shirt is off when you turn back, holding back a wince at the darkening bruise splayed on his abdomen. you cut away his pants, wiping away all the blood surrounding the wound and cleaning it with water. “clean,” you mutter, lightly dragging your fingers along the wound, a warm pink sparkling where your touch had been, disappearing with the slice in his skin.

sam sighs when it’s all healed, looking down at his leg, “i am never getting used to that,” you hum a laugh when you move to some of the smaller cuts on his face, all of them healing with a simple move of your fingers. the yellowing that was beginning to form along his abdomen fades back into his normal skin color when your hands drift past them, and he smiles in satisfaction.

“well no broken bones this time,” you point out, patting his leg proudly. he grins, sitting up, “you proud of me?”

“very,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his cheek that relaxes all of his sore muscles, “you’re a gift to this world,” he thanks. you smile in response, sitting bucky down where sam was. sam picks up the clothing you always leave out, moving into your small bathroom to change while you work on bucky.

“how did it go?” you ask him, cleaning away the blood on his face. “not yours,” you comment on it, “i guess that’s good.”

“it went… as well as fighting a god can go,” he answers, you nod, “you fought a god?” you ask nonchalantly, as if you didn’t just have a strange encounter with said god. bucky nods, “loki. you saw him, y/n.”

your hands move in front of his face, warmth settling into the open wounds and closing them. “i was just making sure you’d tell me the truth. no one told me anything about this mission.” you pat at his arms, random injuries healing with a gentle pink. “no serious ones, right?” you ask, squinting at him as he shakes his head. “all of them healed down into small ones that you just healed.”

“okay, then,” you kiss his forehead, making his tense muscles loosen like sam’s. “do you know how much we appreciate it when you do that?” he asks, and you laugh. “making sure none of you are sore is a small thing, and i like doing it.” besides, thanks to that, you got natasha to warm up to your affection- she is now comfortable receiving hugs, and you consider that a win.

“so where’s loki going now?” you question, not noticing the three avengers behind you until tony answers, steve and natasha behind him. “one of the high security cells, you’re going to take turns babysitting him so he doesn’t try to kill everyone again.”

“i am?” you ask, motioning for the three to sit while sam and bucky leave. “not you, i don’t want anything to happen to you, but everyone else,” tony says, sitting in front of you. you roll your eyes in reply, “i’m not defenseless, tony. i’m an avenger for a reason. and it isn’t only because i can heal people.”

“why would you want to watch over him? rock of ages isn’t very interesting,” tony asks, you hold back the fact you think the opposite, continuing to pat at his cheek with a wet cotton swab. “it’s just sitting around and watching a man with an overgrown ego rant about evil plans,” natasha adds, making you shrug, “more than i usually do. most of the time, i have to sit around doing nothing until you guys come back, since steve won’t put me on missions,” you try to ignore how you’re defending someone who most of the people in this room consider a villain.

“we need to have you safe and intact in case anything happens,” steve defends. you sigh, having heard the same excuse multiple times before. “i know. doesn’t make feeling useless for most of the day any better.”

the topic is switched for the rest of the time they’re with you.

three days later, you haven’t even heard the god’s name. you can tell your conversation with tony ticked him off, and you’re worried he might have an idea of what runs through your mind when you think of loki, which explains the absence of anything loki-related. you’re disappointed, to say the least. the god you’ve been thinking about is in the same building as you, only a few floors below, locked inside a cell you know the code and have complete access to, and you can’t even think about him without the concern that tony might somehow find out. he’s been truthful about the babysitting; so far, each of the avengers have sat in with him, steve twice- you’re sure the second time was supposed to be you, but tony is infuriating and true to his word.

every avenger but you and natasha are gone today, though, and from the looks of the folder nick fury’s holding, walking down to loki’s cell where natasha is, it’ll be down to just you.

a few minutes later, you’re reading “the night manager,” when fury knocks on your door, making you look up. “you busy, l/n?” he asks, you shake your head, “have a mission for me?”

“yes. supervising loki laufeyson for the rest of the day, and preferably the night, too,” he instructs, an eyebrow raising when you haven’t moved from your seat, so you stand immediately, shutting your book with your finger bookmarking your page. “oh- yes, of course, sir. uh, i’ll get down there now, then,” you stammer, awkwardly squeezing past him in the doorway and heading to the elevator, “have a nice day, sir,” you wave, nearly bumping into a plant.

you always embarrass yourself in front of the man, which probably explains your limited interactions.

you try not to think about it during the elevator ride, foot tapping on the floor as the numbers lower until it dings. natasha is standing on the other side when the doors part, eyes meeting yours the moment they do. you smile at her, squeezing her arm when she passes to replace the kiss you’d usually place on her forehead to soothe the tense muscles you’re certain she has. she tells you to be careful in a whisper, unwilling to show anything to the god who is curiously examining you. the elevator hums as it closes, and you sit in the chair before the glass prison. “hello,” you greet with a small smile, slightly bowing your head before opening your book and flipping to the page you left off on.

it’s utterly useless, though. the words on the page are impossible to understand when you can feel his eyes on you, examining you in such a way, you’re sure he already knows more about you than you do about yourself. “it’s the night manager,” you say softly after a few excruciating seconds, setting the book down on your lap as you meet his eyes. “it’s a good book so far.”

your tone is light, and you think it’s part of the reason loki answers, “i have read it before. it’s… not completely terrible.”

“no way, i just got the god seal of approval on one of my books,” you say playfully, smiling at him before going back to reading.

“i have not seen you here before,” loki points out after a silent minute, and you nod in response, “that’s right, i haven’t gone down here since you came.”

there’s a dangerous smirk playing at loki’s lips, walking closer to you, “is it because you’re scared of me?” he asks, and you scoff softly. “you don’t scare me. you are… interesting. dangerous, of course, and i don’t agree with your actions, but i don’t think you lash out for no good reason.”

there’s a heavy quiet that follows your words, your gentle stare combatting loki’s suspicious one. you nearly pick up your book to resume until he speaks again. “you haven’t expressed your hate for me yet,” he observes, and you frown, “is that what they do? that’s not very nice.”

“neither am i, darling.” loki replies smoothly, making you shake your head, cheeks warming against your will at the pet name. “well, i don’t hate you. so i don’t see a reason to do that,” you point out.

loki actually looks… surprised for a split second, before his gaze sets on you, “and why is that?” he questions. you pause; you don’t actually know why. surely, you should- he attempted to take over your planet and hurt your friends, but you can’t bring yourself to hold any ill feeling towards him, not after hearing his brother talk so fondly of him even after all he’s put him through.

“i don’t know. i probably should, but i just don’t,” you respond in finality, trying to leave no room for the argument loki will surely bring. he quirks an eyebrow, watching as you stifle a yawn.

he surprisingly doesn’t elaborate, but you’re sure it was already on his tongue. your mind goes back to one of the previous things he’d said, and your frown returns, examining the god. you only realize it completely looks like you’re checking him out when he smirks, cocking his head, “would you like me to do a turn?” he asks, making you flush. “no, i- i was just-”

you let out a small puff of air, attempting to convert your thoughts into one coherent sentence, “are they feeding you correctly? i know shield is supposed to be humane or whatever, but some of the agents pick and choose, and-”

“do you always ramble like this?” loki cuts you off, and you shake your head, bashful, “not usually. but i’m not usually in the presence of a god.” loki smirks at that, “they haven’t. but as you pointed out, i am a god. thus i need very little food.”

the voice in your head that sounds strangely like tony is yelling at you to not care, because the person in front of you is evil- supposedly- and it would be highly inappropriate of you to care, but, like you usually do with tony, you ignore it, reaching into your pocket to get your phone. you type out that you’re hungry to maria, doubling your usual order of food with no questions from her but full of suspicion, you’re sure.

“what are you doing?” loki asks. “getting food. i’m not exactly sure what gods are supposed to eat, and it’s not like i can order a whole ham or whatever, but i don’t find myself loving the idea of starving prisoners.”

“why?” he asks, eyes slanted and head tilted like he tends to do. contemplating his question, you shrug, “because i can’t see why i shouldn’t.”

loki decides you’re bearable.

[pinkbalrog]

Of Gods and Tombs

A Noragami Lost Tomb AU I decided to actually write up. Apologies for cultural errors. I probably could have researched more. No offense was meant. :) Feel free to comment. I consciously tried not to sink too much focus into this because I am a perfectionist and would have brooded over this for weeks, and I do have other projects! All supernatural elements are improvised, perhaps badly. I also wasn’t sure of Xiao Er Ye? Thoughts? I don’t know Chinese : (. 

Mentioning @jockvillagersonly because they have been ridiculously nice. :)

Here we go!

Pangzi stared. The man stared back, holding Pangzi’s wilting incense in one hand. He’d been, savoring it? Maybe? Wide eyes stared back over a thin trail of smoke and, was he blushing?

“Who the FUC-”

“Shhhh!” the man lunged forward. He dropped the incense, wincing and grabbed Pangzi’s arm. “You’ll wake something up!”

“You’re something!”

“We can talk but—yes, I am?”

Pangzi got a handful of silk. Where did he get the hanfu? He jerked him close, eyes narrowed, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. “You,” he grated, “are not part of the expedition”.

Wide eyes blinked at him. “What expedition?” Pangzi cuffed him.

“You think I came in here alone? You did not come in with us.” The guy wasn’t frail, was pretty solid actually, but he had the look of a bird plucked out of a net.  

“No. Obviously?” Thoughts moved rapidly behind his eyes, and he scanned Pangzi, taking in his sweat stained shirt, abraded hands, and his unshaven face. “You came with a group then, and you came up.” He pried off Pangzi’s grip and took a step towards the dark where Pangzi had dragged the heavy door mostly into place. “At least that’s the only way you’d be in this corridor, it’s inaccessible on this level.”

Pangzi gaped. He exclaimed, “Then how the hell did you get here?” The man ignored him, squatting down to look at Pangzi’s sleeping bag. Pangzi stepped in front of it defensively.

The man continued, “They must be dead, otherwise you wouldn’t be alone, and you need help”. He nodded at Pangzi, as if they were having a discussion. They were not.

Pangzi loomed over him. “Again, how are you here?”

The man rolled back on his heels, straightened, and damn well held his hands in front of him like he was lecturing. Long sleeves slid back from thin wrists. His hair was short, and not neat at all. “I’ve been here for a long time, and I need help too.”

“You,” Pangzi sputtered, “you need help. You look, look you’re not a ghost right? You would have already tried to kill me. Right. I’m sitting down for this.” And he threw himself down on the platform of the pitiful, wedged open coffin, nearly squashing his back pack. He crossed his arms. “Well, what’s your name?”

The guy, whoever he was, smiled hopefully. “You can call me Xiao Er Ye.”

Pangzi grunted. “Wang Pangzi”.

Xiao Er Ye bowed, weirdly formal.

Stretching out his legs, which ached from walking uneven corridors for literal days, Pangzi idly rifled through his bag until he had a good grip on his gun, then he pulled out a water bottle and let it hang from his hand. “And what are you anyway?”

“I’m a god.”

The bottle thunked on the floor. “What?”

Xiao Er Ye smiled wider.

Pangzi sneered. He waved his arms. “A god. Bullshit.” Whoever lost their lunatic in that pathetic village was probably wondering what hole they fell into. Pangzi’s hole apparently.

Xiao Er Ye regarded him steadily. “It’s true. Did you wonder why I had your incense?” Pangzi scoffed,

“Becasue you’re a weirdo?”

“Because your offering allowed me to appear to you.”

“Right. And that seems like a reasonable explanation to you?”

He was ridiculous, but he was really clean. There was fat on his bones, and his nails were neat. Pangzi let go of the gun, considering. The guy clearly got in here very recently, which meant there was a way out. Could Pangzi humor the lunatic to get out of a literal death trap? Hell yes.

“Oookay,” he drawled, “So you’re a god. I can see you. What do you need my help for, your holiness?”

Immediately, Xiao Er Ye sat close beside him. “I can’t leave here because someone is here in a trap meant for me. I can’t free him because the trap is meant for me.” He paused to see if Pangzi was following. Pangzi smiled wide. Apparently reassured, Xiao Er Ye went on, “and I’m having a hard enough time keeping the trap from doing what it’s supposed to do, which is make the whole thing even more inescapable. You’re mortal, so you can free him”.

Taking a drink, Pangzi considered. So yes, Xiao Er Ye was off his rocker. He put the cap back on and asked,

“But do you know a way out of here?”

“Yes, many.”

“And you’re still here.”

Xiao Er Ye set his jaw, obstinate. “I need help.”

Pangzi tapped the bottle. So, do one nonsensical thing and finally get out? Or do nothing and lose what might be a chance. He remembered red hands, gleaming wetly.  

“Okay,” he said, and watched Xiao Er Ye light up. He was ridiculously easy to read. “Say I believe you. How does this work?”  

“I lead you to the trap, and you follow my instructions. Then we get out.”

Pangzi eyed him incredulously. “Then we get out. No real plan for that?”

Xiao Er Ye grinned, gestured at the tomb around them, and said, “That’s the easy part.”

Pangzi snorted. “Easy he says.” He made a production of standing up, and folded, “You better not screw me over, your holiness.”

“Thank you.” Pangzi paused. Xiao Er Ye’s voice was soft, earnest, “Thank you Wang Pangzi.”

Pangzi huffed a laugh. Atleast this was a harmless idiot. “Yeah, you’re welcome, let’s go get your boyfriend, or whatever, and get out of here.”

Xiao Er Ye’s voice pitched up, “my whatever?” and he kept talking.

Ignoring him, Pangzi faced the door. Damn it, he had to shift it again.

 . . .

Pangzi reconsidered this decision. He reconsidered it strongly. Ripping another lotus arrow out of his shirt he threw it at Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye dodged, and it clicked on the floor with all the others. This was trap number six. He tried to stay calm.

“And why,” he hissed, “Are you setting off every trap in this godsdamned tomb? How are there even this many left? Didn’t you come this way? Why aren’t you dead? Are you dead? Are you a fucking ghost because so help me I will hit you.”

Turns out, Xiao Er Ye was right about the corridor earlier being inaccessible from that level, but you could climb up another pit trap. Pangzi was getting very tired of squeezing up pit traps, and apparently this guy just clambered up and down them? Without getting dirty? Without seeming flustered in the least? Maybe his people put him in the hole on purpose. Was this all just enrichment? Even the spear traps? It was a fucking blessing that they seemed to be malfunctioning, or aged past effectiveness.

Xiao Er Ye looked sheepish, shrugging. “I forgot to worry about them? I’m usually not materially here when I walk around, but you need to see me and get past them so...”

Pangzi took a deep breath and counted to ten. “I need a drink”.

“Are you hurt though?” and now Xiao Er Ye was all sharp-eyed and attentive, all his focus on Pangzi, on his bruises and battered ego. Pangzi’s shoulders slumped.

“From this?” he shook his head and clapped a hand on Xiao Er Ye’s shoulder, “I’m fine. Can we just—what is THAT?”

There were hands, white, emaciated hands pressing through the stones at their feet. Black writhed up. Shrieking, Pangzi stomped, and stomped again.

Xiao Er Ye was stomping too, ranting, “Oh not again, no no I will not humor you. Do you want to be dead? Really? I told you no!”

The hands shrank back with a plaintive keen and one last lingering caress on Xiao Er Ye’s leg.

Pangzi and Xiao Er Ye stood there, breathing heavily. Their eyes met. Xiao Er Ye wore a strained smile and he looked, desperate.  

“So,” Pangzi stepped past Xiao Er Ye, careful not to step on any cracks, “Where next?” He didn’t look back, but he heard Xiao Er Ye take a shaky breath.

“Down this way. We’re almost there.”

. . .

“Almost there” was a lie. Pangzi sympathized, he did. It seemed Xiao Er Ye really believed a friend of his was down here; but the longer it took to reach, whatever it was, the more Pangzi worried he wouldn’t get the chance to talk Xiao Er Ye down, and nudge him towards showing both of them out of the tomb. He did not want to wander until he starved, or end up like his former team mates, spattered across the walls of a noisome pit.

The corridors were getting smoother, more ornate, and Pangzi swore he could feel fresh air vented in from somewhere. Xiao Er Ye was silent now, heading doggedly forward. Finally, he turned a corner, and, in the light of Pangzi’s flashlight, there were massive doors, green gold bronze with jade inset panels. They glimmered, untouched by dust. In fact, and here Pangzi swung his flashlight around, splendor wasn’t confined to the doors. There were murals faded but intricate all over the walls of the corridor.

There was no way to smuggle those doors out, but Pangzi wanted. His fingers twitched. Why had the expedition come in on a lower grade? If they���d realized the tomb was mostly vertical, that stuff like this was at the top, well, this would have been a different raid altogether. It was quiet, hushed but for the sound of Pangzi’s and Xiao Er Ye’s foot steps, the sound of their breathing, and the rustle of Xiao Er Ye’s ornate coat as he strode forward.

The doors swung open at a touch, soundlessly, and, hesitating in the corridor, Pangzi believed for the first time, that maybe Xiao Er Ye was non-human, at least a little. Was this really real? He pinched himself, which hurt. Nothing changed.

What prayers had he used, when he lit the incense? He lost track sometimes. Was he even doing any of them correctly? “Pangzi?” Xiao Er Ye’s voice echoed.

Pangzi swallowed his nerves, steeled his gut and called back, “Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” Inside was a riot of gold statues, positioned as an audience, a circle of jade set into a stone platform, intact the whole way around, and a man suspended in the air, curled defensively, dark hair falling over his shoulders. Long sleeves of richest, deepest blue, hung from his slender frame, and as Pangzi crept closer, rapt, he saw that the man’s face was ridiculously pretty. He seemed asleep. He was definitely, no doubt about it, floating.

“What.”

“I told you,” that was Xiao Er Ye, his voice grim. He was standing at the edge of the jade circle, intent on the characters carved inside it. He was holding out his hands, and for the first time, in the weird eldritch light the whole thing gave off, Pangzi could see scars on Xiao Er Ye’s palms and wrists, as if they’d but cut with a straight blade. Xiao Er ye shook, straining to reach with everything in him.

“Please, Pangzi, you can break it.” 

Pangzi felt, calm, as if he was in his home town, standing outside the Lucky Frog bar, staring into the fervid eyes of old man Wei. His voice was even,

“What happened to your hands?”

“My hands?” Xiao Er Ye drew back, glancing at his palms, “What does it matter?” he looked back at the circle, “I tried to put more of me in the circle, to get it to grab me but blood didn’t work, or hair. They just, evaporated, or fell apart on contact and nothing works. Please, break it.”

“How long have you, right—What do I do?”

Xiao Er Ye’s instructions apparently, amounted to “break it” all his easy words gone. Pangzi tried wedging the jade up, but he couldn’t get any purchase, and blunt force didn’t even dent it. He sat, panting, and chugged the last of his water. Xiao Er Ye stood by, fretting.

“I can’t, not like this.”

“What?” Xiao Er Ye hunched, looking very small.

Pangzi stood with effort, and stretched, turning to loosen the muscles of his core. “So you’re a god huh, sure it’s not that guy? He looks more, holy.”

Xiao Er Ye’s face was stone. It was unnatural. “I’m a god. He’s Xiao ge” and he said Xiao ge as if, of all things in the world, that he was most sure of.

“So you can get us out, if say, I blow up the room?”

Xiao Er Ye burst forward, breathless and all glimmering silk, “You can do that?”

Pangzi bared his teeth, “Oh hell yeah.”

. . .

Turns out it was a good thing he’d lugged all those incendiaries up so many floors. It took a while, but Xiao Er Ye had surprisingly steady hands once he had something to do with them. He talked to Xiao ge as he worked, but it wasn’t any dialect Pangzi knew, and he didn’t ask. At the last, Xiao Er Ye made Pangzi stand close, so close that he could smell incense and something like petrichor.

Xiao Er Ye met his eyes and Pangzi hit the trigger.

. . .

The world was dust. Dust and nothing. No sound or feeling, like the world fell away. It cut back in as a blade to the throat.

A literal blade. Pangzi was suddenly, viscerally aware of sun, beaming down on him, of the rumble and clatter of stone as the chamber collapsed around them, radiating outward. He ached, he was thirtsy, his stomach drew in, his breath caught, and they were out.

Xiao Er Ye was standing behind Xiao-ge, who was awake, with a predatory gaze pinned on Pangzi’s face. He held a black and gold sword against Pangzi’s throat and one arm was held out in front of Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye blinked, looking dazed.

“Uh” Pangzi tried again, throat dry, “Xiao Er Ye?”

The god shook his head, drew a deep breath, and noticed Xiao ge. “Xiao ge!”

He threw himself on him dragging him away from Pangzi. Xiao ge went willingly raising a long fingered hand to Xiao Er Ye’s arm, gazing into his face with an intensity that hurt to look at. Xiao Er Ye, reverent, cupped his face, grazing his thumbs beneath ink dark eyes. He breathed out, bright eyed, “You’re awake.”

Pangzi found somewhere else to look. All that shattered gold looked promising.

. . .

The chamber they’d broken was indeed, at the top of the tomb, and had seemingly been built atop an older structure, carved out from inside the tomb so that it was built on top of a place of death, so that it would draw Xiao Er Ye up. From where, Pangzi didn’t ask. What he knew was that there were trees, green and rustling, and sunlight warm on his face. The underbrush was thick, but they managed to find a route that wouldn’t exhaust them within an hour. Pangzi got out his kukri, and Xiao-ge put his sword to better use.

Together, they made their way through the trees, Xiao-ge going ahead, presumably to clear the way of threats, like squirrels. He’d tied back his heavy sleeves and accepted a torn bit of silk from Xiao Er Ye to pull back his hair. Pangzi watched him go, then turned to Xiao Er Ye, who practically glowed. Was he literally glowing? It was hard to tell. The god stood on his toes, soft eyed and open, watching where Xiao ge went.

Pangzi cleared his throat, and asked, “So if you’re a god, what’s he?”

Xiao Er Ye started, then settled back on his heels. “Oh! He’s a Hafuri vessesl!” Pangzi looked at him, dead eyed. “Oh, it means he is the most loyal and, potent? Of shinki, of named spirits that serve a god.”

Pangzi mulled that over. He dug out a few protein bars and made to hand one to Xiao Er Ye, who declined. “Named spirits?”

“Gods give spirits a new existence with a name. He is Xiao ge. He becomes a tattoo! It’s beautiful.”

Pangzi unwrapped his bar and replied, “Right. A tattoo.” He drew himself up, and bit the bullet, asking, “And what god are you?”

But it was Xiao-ge who answered, stealthy as a cat creeping up on them, regarding Xiao Er Ye with a warm gaze, “Qinguang Wang”.

Pangzi choked. “What?”

The God of death and misfortune ducked his head, then smirked impishly, leaning into Pangzi’s personal space. Neatly, he swung Pangzi around to face forward, and rested his with an arm over Pangzi’s shoulders. “And you’re a Priest now!”

Pangzi stopped dead. “What.” He blinked, raised a hand to his chin, and asked carefully, “Are there perks?”

The god’s laughter pealed out, obnoxiously loud. Xiao ge’s lip twitched upward. He glanced at Pangzi, and intoned, nodding gravely, “Do well.” He resumed his walk ahead of them.

Pangzi shrugged off the—his god’s arm and stomped after him, “And what is that supposed to mean? I haven’t even agreed to this yet!”

. . .

Pangzi insisted that the shrine have a full size kitchen and more than one Hello Kitty egg timer.

Fin

[ktheist]

Can I request Tsundere!Yoongi from sentence starters fluff 3. “Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?” Thank you! 🥰

“have you seen my hoodie?”

“no...”

“you’re wearing it aren’t you?

muses. human tsundere!yoongi x cat hybrid!reader

warning: implied smut

note. this is also posted on my other blog because it wasn’t showing up on searches. i’m posting this here as well as a formality!

x

are all humans this odd?

min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

note. reminder that this drabble is also up on my other blog!

[zephyoongist]

“have you seen my hoodie?”

“no...”

“you’re wearing it aren’t you?

warning: implied smut

x

are all humans this odd?

min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

note. a repost from my other blog.

[stupid-stew]

Boiling Rain

my finger slipped again oopsies idk if this is 100% in character but like what if eda kicked lilith out right away and ended up regretting it later

There was nothing worse than a knock on the door for Eda. Especially not in the middle of the night, during a boiling rain storm, when she was fresh out of magic, and she had a kid in the house, and there was no hooty noise to warn her beforehand. What was he up to?

Eda was still new at defending herself without her magic, but she knew her way around a bat, just ask that guy at the bar from her 20’s and his massive medical bill. Whatever she thought, laughing to herself, that jerk deserved it, no medical bill was larger than his ego. Bat in her left hand, doorknob in her right, she simultaneously swung the door open and raised the bat into a defensive position, ready to strike, that is until…

“Lily?”

What she saw before her definitely wasn’t her sister, but that was Lilith on her doorstep. Well kind of, Lilith collapsed in front of her, drenched in steaming water, clearly out of breath, nothing like the perfect prissy Lilith she knew, and what was she wearing? Where was her dress and cloak? Oh, Eda realized, that is her dress and cloak. The clothes were nearly melting off of her sister, riddled with holes. That couldn’t have made her injuries any less severe. Eda had been stuck in her fair share of boiling rain storms, even with the thick skin of the owl beast it had still taken her weeks to heal, she couldn’t even begin to fathom the state her sister was in.

“I’m sorry” came a hoarse whisper from the pile at her feet

“Lily oh my titan-” Eda dropped the bat and turned her head to yell up the stairs, hoping she was loud enough to wake her sleeping apprentice “LUZ, WAKE UP” Her head snapped back to the door frame at the movement of Lilith flinching at her loud voice. What happened to her.

Eda bent down to at least try to get an idea of the injuries her sister had suffered, but before she could get her hands on Lilith, Luz appeared at the base of the stairs. “What’s going on?” she asked, clearly still half asleep. “I need you to go up to the bathroom and grab the first aid kit, not the one in the first aid kit box, the one in the lunchbox.” Eda instructed.

Luz went to move up the stairs but suddenly snapped awake, “Is that Lilith?”

“Luz, later, first aid kit now, please” Eda responded, back turned to the now fully attentive teenager

“Got it…” Luz ran up the stairs, “...the blue or the purple one?” she shouted

Eda sighed, now that Luz was going to be here a while she should make a point to show the kid the ropes around the house “The purple one please.”

Not even a half minute later Eda had the box in her hand and was sorting through the bandages, what was she doing, she didn’t even know how badly wounded Lilith was. Eda set the supplies down and moved to touch Lilith when a pale, terribly blistered hand shot out of the mound in front of her and grabbed her wrist.

“No.”

Eda was confused and jerked her hand away “What do you mean no?”

Lilith took a couple ragged breaths before weakly responding “I don’t want your help, I don’t deserve it”

They sat there in silence for a moment before Eda remembered Luz was still behind her, “Luz, sweetie, could you go grab some blankets and maybe draw up some of those healing glyphs you’ve been working on?”

“Sure” the girl replied softly before quietly stepping back up the stairs

“Edalyn I sai-” Lilith started

“I heard you. I don’t want to hear it. You need help.”

“Not your help-” Lilith inhaled painfully “not after everything I did to you.”

“Oh for titan’s sake Lily, you think just because you made a mistake I’m going to let you lay here in pain? I haven’t even seen your face yet and I can tell you need help, mine or not.”

“No, I shouldn’t have come here, it’s all my fault, I’ll go.” Lilith moved to get up, but the burns weren’t having it and she barely got a push-up’s distance off the ground before her arms gave out.

“Are you kidding me right now? You come to my door in the middle of the night, after having gone through titan-knows-what, covered in burns, your clothes are barely intact, and you expect me to just let you leave?”

Eda wasn’t having any more of it, and reached out and grabbed Lilith’s arm, who hissed in a combination of pain and protest.

“Not on my watch sister” Eda spoke through her teeth. For someone so frail, Lilith was definitely a bit heavier than she looked, though the fact she was drenched probably didn’t help.

She managed to drag the complaining witch all the way to the couch before Luz made her way down the stairs, blankets and a stack of healing glyphs in hand.

“Kid, drop those and come help me please.”

Together they were able to get Lilith into a lying position on the couch, and for the first time see how bad of a state Lilith was in. Not an inch of the witch’s skin was spared from the rains, red blotches and boils acted like massive freckles over her whole body. While taking in the sight of her sister, Eda managed to meet the injured witch’s eyes for a split second, and what she saw scared her more than anything. Of course Lilith’s face was contorted in pain, but there was also shame and embarrassment in her eyes. If I showed up in her state I’d be embarrassed too, but did she really think I wasn’t going to help her?

“Kid can you go upstairs and grab Lilith some clothes from my dresser? Anything you think will fit her is fine, and…” Eda leaned in next to Luz’s ear and in a low whisper “could you take your time? I’d like to talk to my sister in private”

Luz looked at her with understanding “Of course, if you need anything just yell up the stairs.” She eyed Lilith one more time before retreating back up the stairs.

Eda then turned back to Lilith, who seemed unwilling to meet her eye again. “Alright. Let’s get started, you look a mess, so this might hurt a lot more than a little.”

“Edalyn why are you doing this”

Eda chuckled “Have you seen yourself, I’ve never been the best at responsibility, but I think it would make me a bad person to not help someone in your condition.”

“No Eda, I mean why after everything that I did to you, to Luz, why are you still helping me when I am the last person you should want to help, I don’t understand.”

There was a heavy silence followed by a long exhale from Eda. She didn’t respond, instead moving for the pile of glyphs that Luz had left them. “This is going to hurt a lot, and I’m not going to be able to get it all without my magic, the glyphs only do so much, but I think I can make the worst of it at least better.”

For the second time that night Eda was stopped from touching Lilith by a pale shaking hand.

“Edalyn, why?”

“Ok here’s a deal, you let me help you and I’ll tell you why in the end? Sounds fair enough?”

“You really aren’t going to budge on this are you.”

“Nope.” Eda replied, popping her lips on the last syllable.

Lilith flopped back onto her back, shutting her eyes and exclaiming at the, without a doubt, excruciating pain the impact with the couch had caused.

“Real smooth Lils”

“Oh shut it.”

Somehow the older witch’s face turned even more red through the burns and boils.

Eda managed to get through placing glyphs along Lilith’s arms and legs with minimal issue, Lilith didn’t seem to be enjoying herself very much, but even she had to admit it was starting to look better. At some point Luz had come back down with a cream colored shirt and black patchwork skirt for Lilith to change into along with some more glyphs. Eda had sent her back to bed, the kid did have school in a few hours.

“Ok, we are going to have to take off your dress so I can reach your back, looks like that’s where most of the damage is, and…” as Lilith sat up Eda caught a glimpse of her full back “there also doesn’t seem to be all that much dress left to remove. You really got caught in the rain huh?”

Lilith didn’t respond, but instead met Eda’s eyes again, which made Eda suspicious.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes Lilith we have to treat your injuries.” Eda rolled her eyes at her sister, what did she expect when she was out in the rain without protection?

Lilith didn’t look amused, instead she seemed to pale out. She pulled down the top half of her dress and rolled over onto her stomach.

Eda gasped.

Lilith’s back was covered in burns and boils sure, but what shocked Eda was the array of scratches and claw marks all over Lilith’s back, not only her back but they seemed to go up and down her whole body in varying degrees. Some of them looked healed, or on the way there, some of them fresh, some of them even seemed to be infected.

“What the hell Li-”

Was all she got out before she was interrupted

“Forest demons aren’t as nice as they seem. Ever.”

Oh. Eda snapped her mouth shut and silently applied as many glyphs as she could to Lilith’s back and upper arms as she could. Of course, Eda thought, I didn’t let her stay here, she’s got no friends outside the coven, she doesn’t look different enough to find somewhere safe from the coven guard in town, especially not with her posters lining the alleyways, she’s been sleeping in the woods. Where else would she have gone. With their mother? Any number of nights in the forest without a roof was better than one night under their mom’s.

“Thank you.” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Huh? Oh.” Eda had been so busy thinking that she didn’t realize she had finished. “I’ll go to the kitchen to make us some tea, you can change in here, don’t worry about hooty he seems to be asleep.”

Lilith nodded and Eda made her way to the kitchen. Once the water was on the stove, she dove back into her thoughts. All these nights? I kicked her to the curb the night of the incident, it’s been at least a week, it’s rained almost every night. Oh titan, not all of those burns were fresh, that’s probably why Lilith was able to move at all, she was used to it. How has she been eating, bathing, sleeping? She’d been weakened by the splitting of the curse, could she have even defended herself? She could have come around any time- wait. Eda realized that she had told Lilith not to come anywhere near the house… ever again. That’s why she was so convinced she wouldn’t get help at the owl house. Maybe if I had been less harsh, it I hadn-

The whistle of the water being ready pulled Eda back to reality. She quickly placed the tea bags into the mugs and filled them with water and left the kitchen. When she got back to the living room, Lilith was already sitting in her dry clothes, a dim blue light escaping through the thin fabrics from the glow of the healing glyphs. Eda handed her a mug and brought her own to her lips, taking a long sip before sitting down next to her sister.

They sat like that for a while, sipping and waiting. Eventually, much to Eda’s surprise, Lilith broke the silence.

“So why?”

“Huh?” Eda replied, still deep in thought.

“Why did you decide to help me?” Lilith asked, looking into her mug as if it held all the answers “We both know I didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re right.” Eda replied simply. “You don’t deserve my help.”

Looking up from her tea and at her sister with genuine confusion, Lilith asked “So why did you help me then?”

“Let me finish. You don’t deserve my help. You cursed me, you kept your mouth shut about it for decades, until it was far too late, and in a desperate attempt to save your own ass you captured not only me, but my apprentice. My apprentice who I might as well call my own daughter at this point. You hurt her you know?”

Lilith’s eyes reverted back to her mug in shame.

“Oh yeah, she’s got bruises that aren’t even healed yet, that’s why she got looking into the healing glyphs. Plus, she faced Belos. She had to burn her only way home, she’s stuck here now. And me? I lost my magic. The most powerful witch on the boiling isles, now without the witch part.”

To emphasize her point, Eda drew a golden spell circle in the air, only for it to crumble into a pile of dust at her feet.

“Edalyn, I-”

“But,” the younger Clawthorne interjected, “that doesn’t make you a bad person, and I refuse to let it make me a bad person. I don’t know what your reasons were for cursing me, not telling me, I don’t know what Belos promised you, but it had to be pretty big to do what you did. And it’s my fault for not knowing. I kicked you out without even hearing you out, and you got hurt for it, I never even gave you a chance to explain yourself.”

It was Eda’s turn to avoid eye contact now, staring contemplatively into her now empty cup.

“It’s my fault you got hurt. That’s why I helped you. I was so caught up in my own anger that I didn’t think about the consequences of my actions. I’m still mad at you, and you’re far from forgiven, but I think you need help. Let me help you.”

For the first time in a long time, the two sisters met eyes in a moment of understanding.

“Ok.” Lilith said after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Good because I wasn’t really giving you a choice.”

They both laughed at that.

They sat for a moment, before it was finally Eda’s turn to speak first.

“So why’d you come here if you didn’t want my help?”

Lilith picked at her fingers for a moment before responding.

“I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was so dark and so hot, I could barely even think, none of the other storms had gotten me this bad.”

Ah, so I was right. Eda regretted.

“It was like my feet took me here, all I knew was I needed to get out of the rain, and before I knew it I was in front of your house on my knees. I expected you to turn me away, I wanted you to turn me away.”

Eda didn’t know how to respond to that with anything other than “Why.”

Lilith thought for a moment.

“I guess I needed you to turn me away, I thought it might feel better to know that for once you would be the one leaving me in pain after 30 years of the roles being reversed, I think after all of that I deser-”

“No.” Eda interrupted. “I might not be the best sister, neither are you, but I will not ever let you suffer in any way remotely close to the way I did. Nobody deserves that, I sure as hell didn’t but neither do you. You will always have a place to stay with me, no matter how mad I am at you.”

They sat for a while longer, both deep in thought. Eventually Eda took both mugs back to the kitchen and rinsed them before going back to the living room, sitting next to Lilith one last time to help her out with the blankets.

“I think the shed is livable, the tower might be a bit too overgrown at the moment but we can work something out. You can stay on the couch tonight, no way you’re going back out into that. We can set ground rules in the morning, just try and get some sleep before the kid wakes up. She’s very excited about the new day, every day.” Eda spoke fondly.

“You really care for her, don’t you.” Lilith asked, a sad smile tugging on her lips.

“That I do. Goodnight Lilith.” Eda responded before stretching and cracking more joints than any one witch should physically be able to. “Woof, even sitting on that couch is enough to make me sore”

“I’m sure it’s just fine, thank you Edalyn, for everything. And goodnight.” Lilith said while trying to find a comfortable position on the lumpy couch. Her injuries, while significantly better, weren’t doing anything to help the situation. It wasn’t long before the soothing warmth of the healing glyphs lulled Lilith into a deep, dreamless sleep, much better than any she’d gotten on the forest floor.

Not even a few hours later, the sun shone on the owl house, waking Luz first, and if she was any quieter than normal that morning, or if she saw a certain gray haired owl lady sleeping on the floor next to Lilith’s position on the couch on her way out the door, she never mentioned it to a soul.

[riversofmars]

Oh stars a prompt! 13 saying "Please stay?" to River

Ohhh thank you! I think this is probably not what you expected but hope you like it <3

Word count: 1500

Rating: G

Read on AO3 or below

Please Stay

“Please stay.“ The Doctor called to River when she spotted her. She had been waiting for her at the bar. She hadn’t known the exact time she would turn up, her memory was rather blurring on the matter, but she knew that this was the night River would be leaving Darillium for good. River looked up from her vortex manipulator startled. She hadn’t expected anyone to be around. Even though Darillium was a world on which day and night each lasted twenty-four years, they still counted days, day and night time. The body still needed to rest after all and right now was when most people were asleep. She hadn’t considered someone might actually be using the bar at the time when only androids were on hand to serve.

“And who might you be?“ River raised her eyebrows at her. “You’re not staff, I haven’t met you before. A new guest? But this is not how you greet someone you haven’t met yet. Which begs the question, do we know each other?“ She took a step closer into the hotel bar, slightly intrigued.

“Just a friend.“ The Doctor managed a weak smile as she looked back at her. She tried her very best to keep her emotions at bay. The adorations, the longing, the incredible sense of bittersweet sadness, the grief… It threatened to overtake her when her wife stepped closer but she swallowed it all down.

“Of the Doctor’s? Is he that scared about me running off?“ River smirked, jumping to conclusions as she figured she couldn’t be a friend of hers, she would have remembered a face as pretty as that.

“He seems to have a reason to be.“ The Doctor pointed to the vortex manipulator on her wrist.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll never know I’ve gone, be back before he wakes up, beauty of being a time traveller.“ River chuckled in amusement. The girl seemed to know a lot about her, so she had to be a friend of the Doctor’s, River decided.

“And where are you going?“ The Doctor pressed on, hoping she had got here at the right time.

“Aren’t you the nosy one!“ River exclaimed in amusement but felt inclined to answer: “Just a little expedition, very lucrative. Let me tell you, renting the honeymoon suite for twenty-four years isn’t cheap.“

“Isn’t the Doctor paying for it?“ The Doctor frowned.

“The Doctor? Oh heavens no. His credit ran out within the first fortnight. There is only one person in this marriage bringing home money. But let’s keep him believing that, shall we? Our girl secret. Mustn’t hurt his ego.“ River winked and the Doctor tried her best not to be offended. It certainly explained why she still hadn’t received a bill for their time here.

“Please stay. Like you say, the beauty of time travel, you can go to the Library whenever you want, have a day here too, what’s another twenty-four years to a time traveller?“ The Doctor suggested as she had planned to.

“How do you know I’m going to the Library?“ River was quick to jump on her mistake and the Doctor went very pale.

“Uh…“

“You’re in my future, aren’t you… Have you been sent here to keep me from going?“ River tilted her head. She could spot a time traveller from a mile away and she could positively feel the artron energy fizzing off of her, like it did of herself or the Doctor. This conversation was getting more intriguing by the second. “Why?“

“No, no, I just mean, why don’t you delay?“ The Doctor looked to the staircase at the top of which she knew their suite to be. “For his benefit, like I said, I’m a friend.“

“And now you’re blushing. You’re hiding something. Two of my favourite qualities in a girl. Secretive and easily flustered.“ River hummed, her voice sultry and the Doctor felt herself blushing again. She had almost forgotten how much River enjoyed flirting. “Why shouldn’t I go to the Library?“

“You have to go, you absolutely have to, but not now, just delay a little while.“ The Doctor replied. She still needed her to go, eventually, of course she did, to keep the timeline intact but why not delay a little while? It’s what she had come here to convince her about. Twenty-four years… it just hadn’t been enough. She needed more time with her. And if she couldn't meet her again, maybe she could have more memories, more time with her that way.

“To be honest, I’ve been getting bored, I’ve been sneaking away for adventures for ages. He does too, I know he does.“ River laughed. “People like us, we’re not meant to stay in the same spot for too long, we need our adventures but we always come back, we both do. This is our home now.“ She explained.

“Is that how you see it?“ The Doctor replied softly, her words weren’t lost on her, they shook her to the core.

“Home is where the heart is and my heart is with him. Always. I will always come home to him.“ River gave her a kind smile and turned her attention to the vortex manipulator.

“So when you’re done in the Library, you will come back here?“ The Doctor asked, her heart incredibly heavy. This whole time, River had always planned on coming back.

“With a decent pay check from Lux Industries that will pay for the next twenty-four years, absolutely.“ River grinned. “Maybe it’ll even pay for a new lick of paint in our suite. Now, I must be going before he wakes. Don’t worry, I’m good at this, I’ll be sure to be back in, let’s say, five seconds? Then you can fill me in on how exactly you know my husband.“ She engaged the vortex manipulator and disappeared into thin air before the Doctor even had a chance to say goodbye, breaking her hearts all over again. The Doctor was glad to be alone in the bar. There was no-one to witness her tears as she waited, hoping against hope. Five seconds turned to ten, to five minutes but River didn’t return. Of course she didn’t.

“This is it then.“ A voice sounded from the top of the stairs making the Doctor jump. She didn’t know how much time had past since River had disappeared but it must have been a while.

“Sun is coming up.“ The Doctor mused as she looked out onto the balcony.

“The night is over.“ Her younger self descended the stairs, his white hair uncombed, his waistcoat undone… he had gotten comfortable on Darillium. The Doctor gave him a half-hearted smile. The best years of their life had just come to an end. She didn’t have to tell him, he already knew.

“I tried to stop her, suggested she go to the Library later…“ The Doctor said softly as he came to sit next to her.

“That was dangerous.“ He observed but he wasn’t scolding her, he was merely stating a fact.

“I thought maybe if she just delayed… just a little more time… another night… new memories.“ She waved her hand around, struggling to articulate her reasoning but she knew she didn’t need to. He already understood, they were the same person after all.

“Foolish.“ He mumbled and waved to an android for coffee.

“I know.“ She sighed. “But I had to try.“

“You must miss her terribly.“ The grey-haired Doctor mused and looked to her with nothing but kindness and compassion in his eyes. She chuckled and smiled, this was what she had liked best about being him, his incredibly capacity for compassion behind his tough facade.

“You will.“ She sighed.

“I’m sorry, Doctor.“ He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“So am I.“ She blinked away her tears. “Twenty-four years…“

“More than a lot of people get.“ He felt the need to remind her, as much as himself, as the reality of River’s departure was starting to sink in. He looked to his future self with a heavy heart, realising it wouldn’t get any easier.

“What’s twenty-four years when you want an eternity.“ The blonde Doctor whispered wiping away her tears as she tried to compose herself. This was not the end. It couldn’t be. She refused to accept it. “You should go to Missy’s execution now. You’ve been putting that off for far too long.“ She said looking to her past self who sighed:

“Luxury of being a time traveller.“

“That’s what River said as well…“ She chuckled. “But some things you can’t put off forever.“ He nodded, how could he argue with himself?

“And where are you off to now? I won’t remember this so you can tell me.“ He said and picked up the coffee an android placed in front of him.

“Who knows.“ The Doctor smiled getting to her feet. “Perhaps to a very big Library… I might have more luck there than here.“

“Good luck, Doctor.“ He smiled feeling a sense of hopefulness at the thought.

“You too, Doctor.“ She mirrored his smile.

“Still not ginger then?“ He called after her as she turned to leave.

“Still not ginger.“ She confirmed with a laugh.

“Bet she liked the look for you though.“ He winked and she chuckled:

“I think she did, yeah.“

[electronictimetravelmoose]

Five-maggedon

Warnings: angst, mention of suicide, lost of love one, apocalypse, mention of killing, gaslighting

Word Count: ~5.5k

Summary: What should have been a normal trip to the store ends with landing in an apocalyptic wasteland with a boy you never saw before.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Requested by my lovely Honey aka my wife @satans-bae-and-queen 

A/N: Okay so my wife and I were at this for a while, if it looks shit I am very sorry. Fuck this.

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

This wasn’t exactly how you thought your day would pan out.

Everything was ordinary when you stood up that morning. Your mom woke you and your younger brother at seven o’clock for breakfast, which went quietly and uneventful. Your father left for work at exactly 7:45 am as he always does, your brother was sitting in his room playing with the many toys he had and you started to study for school. But that got cut short when your mother asked you to get something from the store for her. It was the norm to send you when she was busy. Absolutely normal.

You changed out of your pyjamas into a pair of jeans and a sweater and soon you were out in the cold with additional boots and a coat. You were wandering down the snowy streets skipping a few steps once in a while on your trip to the store when it happened.

A boy the same age as you was wandering down that exact same street as well but not in the same time as you. Well not in that moment. 

Five was making his second jump from a sunny summer day to a snowy winter day. He was ecstatic from his own powers to jump through time so easily which only fueled his ego more. Five wanted to make another jump, a much bigger jump to prove to himself and his family that he could. He wanted to see how far he can get and rub it under his father's nose to show him that he didn’t need more time or training to do so. Five knew and saw that he was ready and capable of challenging this new ability. So Five started to concentrate when...

You swore that this boy dressed in a weirdly looking school uniform wasn’t there a second before but it didn’t make much of a difference now because when you collided with him everything around you started to turn and get blurry before you landed on the floor. 

“Shit.” , you groaned out in pain before you opened your eyes.

Shock washed over you as you took in your surroundings, your pain instantly subsided at your new view and panic kicked in. This wasn’t the street you were on a second ago, or that’s at least what you thought, because everything around you was in ruins. Everywhere you looked there was nothing left but the last remains of the buildings that once stood at their places. Things were burning and nobody seemed to be there besides you and that boy. Who was, by the look on his face, just as scared and full of panic as you were. 

The boy's name, who you can thank for landing in this mess with, was Five. He was part of The Umbrella Academy which you had heard of in the news. Kids, all born on the same day, with different superpowers who fight crime and save the day. Almost sounded like a bliss. His powers, as he told you, were jumping through space and now time as well and oh boy how he has proven that. He apologized for bringing you accidently with him and promised he would get you back home as soon as his powers would work again. You couldn’t do anything else but believe him for the time being and hope that he kept his promise in the end.

Time went on and you started telling him about you as well, only finding it fair as he told you quite a lot about himself and explaining how exactly his powers work. To the surprise of both of you there was a lot in common between you. You were both thirteen years old with only a few weeks in between, always learning and seeking to be the smartest in the room, the competitiveness you held and the both of you always having to adapt to new situations. 

Five in his training and struggling to be on his father’s good side at all times and you for attempting to fit in with your adoptive family, in school and overall life in general. And that was also something you had in common, being adopted.

A few days turned into a few weeks, then into a few months and suddenly a year has gone by.

You and Five were still stuck in the apocalyptic future with no sign in the progress of bringing you two back home. You still haven’t given up hope that maybe one day he would bring you back, but that hope was minimizing itself by the day. 

Were you angry about it? No. Maybe slightly disappointed but you thought that this all might have been faith bringing you here with Five.

It started a while ago that you noticed how close you and your companion had gotten and how deeply you felt about that boy. It made it hard for you to be around him which was only worsened by the questions and thoughts in your head. 

Was it because we two were the only ones alive, trapped together with no way to escape and no one else to talk to? Or did I really started to fall for that boy who always tried to keep me safe and us both alive? Who cheers me up when I am sad and helps me when everything gets too much…

Five was going through the same dilemma as you but with much more denial involved.

He couldn’t be in love with you! His mind was just playing weird and sickening tricks on him and his body was just starting to hit puberty. Yes that was probably it, puberty and his hormones playing crazy and his mind playing into it all with the idea of feelings but still… Everytime Five would look at you his heart would skip a beat and his stomach would start to perform the most ridiculous gymnastic moves known to mankind. It was baffling. 

To sum it up, Five went through all five stages of grief in that year with denial taking the most of his time. But when it started to subside anger took over. That anger was not directed at you but at himself and he started to bargain with himself. How could I be so careless and trap her with me in this hell on earth?! I was naive and stupid for thinking I could do this without proper practise and calculating the dangers of it and now she is stuck here with me and it is all my fault. I can’t let her live through this hell with me. I need to get her back even if it meant that I might lose her.

Then it seemed that the depressive aspects of the whole situation hit him and it hit him like a fucking train. I'm stuck here with a girl that probably hates me and is rightfully to do so. She had no choice but to get dragged into this mess with me and the only thing I can do to make it up is to keep her safe and bring her back someday. But she will also never feel the same for me will she? She will never reciprocate my feelings for her because of what I did. I want her to feel loved and keep her safe without it having to be a way to make it up. I want to show her all the time how much I care about her even when this is over.

...and finally the acceptance kicked in. Acceptance that he wouldn’t be able to bring them back in the near future, that she probably hated him but still stuck around to not be alone and that he was in love with his companion. Five knew he could live with that but the question was for how long until he would break.

But it wasn’t really the question when he would break but rather who of you two would break first… And it was you.

You and Five had found a house that was still intact enough to stay in for a while as it was that time of the year when it grew colder again. You had set your camp in the house a few days ago and it was now the fourth night there. In the living room was a chimney which allowed you to lit a fire and give some much needed warmth to the two of you. Both of you were sitting in front of it in a rather comfortable silence when those thoughts started to creep back into your mind and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“Five?” , his name bursted out of your mouth. Oh this will get weird.

Five looked over to you with a concerned and questioning look on his face. “What’s wrong (Y/N)?”

“Nothing really, I just… I need to tell you something and it will probably get really awkward between us afterwards…”

Both you and Five were afraid in that moment. You because you were about to tell him what your true emotion towards him were and Five because he was afraid what your next words might be. 

It was silent for a moment before Five swallowed the lump in his throat, that has seemingly formed itself out of nowhere, and spoke again.

“Well, go on then.” 

A sigh, a deep breath, you can do this. 

“Fives I have been thinking about everything that happened over the past year quite a lot lately and not only that but also what has happened between us…” 

All the color was simply drained from Five’s face in that moment. Where you finally going to tell him that you hated him and that you just wanted this ordeal with him to be over? Five didn’t knew what or if he could even respond to your next words. 

“...I think that this has all been one hell of a rollercoaster of events but I want you to know that I am not mad at you and that I don’t hate you in any way. It’s somewhat of the opposite actually, I ehm… I really like you Five. Probably more than just liking you.”

Silence. 

That’s all what came next, pain-staking and excruciating silence. Five just looked utterly and completely shocked at you which made anxiety creep up into your system and fill your body with uneasiness. Was it the wrong thing to say? Does he even feel the same? God did you make it awkward between the two of you now? 

If you weren’t so anxious, you could literally hear the wheels in Five’s head rattling at lightning speed, processing what you just said to him. It was like a miracle... After all what happened you didn’t hated him! You liked him! And according to your words more than just liking. So when you heard his next words you were just as shocked as he was before.

“I am in love with you, (Y/N).” Wait what?

Your mouth fell open in shock with a loss of words following it. That was not what you expected, god not at all! How could this be real? But then again everything that happened in the last year was absolutely surreal in your eyes so you didn’t questioned it. 

You attempted to answer him but your responds just wouldn’t come out of your damn mouth.

Five, who noticed the attempts and your upbuilding frustration, began to speak again with slightly tinted cheeks. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

Did Five anticipated to bring it out as confident as possible? Yes. Did he succeed? Absolutely not. It sounded more like a scared schoolboy trying to talk to his crush, which it kinda was if we are being honest here, but nonetheless it was out now.

You were baffled by his request and suddenly your voice was fully cut off. The only respond you could give was a small nod and a slight lean towards him. Getting your drift Five slowly leaned in towards you as well. It felt like an eternity before your lips finally collided.

None of you had kissed anyone before so ideas on what might come next were flooding your thoughts. 

Five was the first to start moving a bit into the kiss and when he felt that you were doing the same, the movements of the both of you became natural and grew stronger. The kiss turned sloppy and wet in a span of only half a minute before you both needed to part to take in some needed air.

You gazed into each other's eyes for mere seconds before laughter erupted from both of you.

“God that was so gross, but kind of awesome.” You laughed out.

“I know.” , Five said while grinning at you, “Want to do it again?” 

“Hell yes!”

Years pass by and you and Five change. You both not only grow older and more maturer but you also grow closer together. The time you spend together also came with a lot of obstacles. Of course it’s hard only having the other to really talk to and confined in so the arguments and fights didn’t take long to come.

Both of you were screaming at the top of your lungs again, no one really knowing how it even started anymore but sure to let out all your frustration that bottled up inside with it. These disputes were happening quite often lately, coming right out of the blue with no real reason behind it. Was it maddening that you didn’t seem to be able to talk normally with each other anymore? Yes, but that wasn’t a reason for a screaming match and you weren’t in the mood for dealing with it.

“I need a break!” , you exclaimed. You finally reached your breaking point after almost two hours of screaming in the face of your significant other. Again.

On your way away form Five you grabbed your field flask to take with you. Your throat was literally murdering you for what you put it through, again. Sometimes it seemed hopeless to try and talk reasonable with him.

Five didn’t even try to stop you from leaving because he himself knew that you both had to let off some steam so you were able to talk to each other again and apologize. It still hurted him tho, seeing you leave like that but he knew you would come back. You always came back. Which Five was thankful for even when he questioned why you would come back to him. He was cynical, an egomaniac and he always wanted to be right... But that was just how love worked for you. You fight, you talk, you forgive, you make it work because he was the love of your life and you were his.

But when you didn’t came back that night he knew he fucked up. 

God if that would have been the worst part to come...

It’s been a week since the fight Five had with you and you weren’t back yet. He had started searched through the nearby area the day after you went missing and after another two days he wandered further out but he found absolutely nothing. No trace of where you went besides the field flask you had taken with you from which only a few sips had been drunk. 

Five thought he was going insane not knowing where you were and if something had happened to you. Suddenly everything he cared about for the last 45 years, give or take some, was gone. Vanished from the face of the earth. He knew now the he shouldn’t have let you leave his sight but nothing happened the times before so who would have thought anything would turn out different this time.

Five had been talking with himself, trying to figure out a way to find you which only ended in despair but he would never give up on finding you. You were the most important thing to him in life and without you by his side there wasn’t much life in him left. But everything got worse when she showed up.

Five was contemplating his next steps when he heard rubbles that were being shuffled around, most likely made by someone walking on them. Since you had ended up there he was always on guard for the worst to come get you two, much to your dismay sometimes, so as of now his first instinct was to draw his rifle and point it in the direction of the disturbance. 

There a tall woman stood with bright blond hair, dressed in a black leather coat, sunglasses and a small weird looking hat. In her right hand she held a briefcase and with the left she waved at him. Who the hell was this woman?

“Who the hell are you?!” , Five screamed at the lady.

“I’m here to help.” , she answered him and climbed down the rubble to be on his level. 

“Tell me or I shot a bullet through your head right now!”

She ignored his outburst and continued talking. “Because” , she put the briefcase down and took her sunglasses off, “if you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to make you and you wouldn’t know what happened to your precious wife, which would be rather tragic giving your current circumstances.” She sat down on an high enough piece of debris and crossed her legs.

Five slightly lowered his weapon but still kept it pointed towards his opponent. He was shocked but stayed quiet as he wanted to know what happened to his (Y/N) and what this woman’s sudden appearance was really about. 

“As I have your full attention now… I am the Handler, I work for an organisation called The Commision. We are tasked with the preservation of the time continuum through manipulation and removals.”

“I don’t understand…” Five truly didn’t understand the meaning of this and the point behind her suddenly being here and telling him this. 

“You see, sometimes people… make choices that alter time. Free will don’t get me started. When that happens we dispatch one of our agents to eliminate the threat.”

Five raisedhis rifle fully at her again which made her chuckle. 

“No, no, no, no. You misunderstand me. You are not a target. You are a recruit. I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five. We had our eye on you for quite some time… But only on you. But it was worth the time and we think you have a lot of potential. Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity back at headquarters. That and your ability to jump through time.” 

The lady in black took a drag from her cigarette while looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

Five’s mind couldn’t continue functioning and was stuck on four particular words the Handler had said. But only on you… 

“What did you do to her?! What did you do to (Y/N)?!”

She chuckled again and Five swore if one more chuckle or wrong word would come out of her mouth he’d put that bullet right between her eyes. He gritted his teeth while waiting for an answer.

“We did absolutely nothing, Number Five, it was all you.” All him? “You see after the little fight the two of you had she wandered around and lost track of her surroundings. She wanted to climb on top of a ruin to use the view from on top for directions but then it collapsed and buried her right underneath.” 

Could it really be? Five remembered that the night you didn’t came back something collapsed near your base. Was it a building perhaps? Wouldn’t have been the first time he would see or hear it. From the volume of the crash he presumed it was a few miles away but could you really have walked that far? Would you have walked that far when being mad at him? It was possible, after all you never really were the most careful one when it came to the danger of your surroundings. 

“You are saying that I… That I caused it?” 

The usual confident and mature tone of Five’s voice sounded like that of a child again, seeing and feeling the consequences of what he does for the first time. 

The woman nodded and took another drag from her cigarette. “I am giving you the opportunity to leave this place. Actually leave it. Even if it’s without your precious (Y/N). I’m sure she would want you to take this chance after being stuck for so long.”

She knew that her manipulation had worked. There was something you could see in his eyes. The desperation, the longing for his wife, the pain of losing her. You could see how he broke on the inside and that is exactly what she wanted. 

“I could actually leave here? Go… Go back?” But without you? 

Five stuttered out, too overwhelmed with the whole situation.

“In return for five years of service. Once your contract is done, you can retire to the time and place of your choosing with a pension plan to boot.”

But was that what Five really wanted? Being an assassin for some shady time agency and living without his wife?

“If you can alter time why not stop all of this from ever happening? If you can really do that then bring my (Y/N) back.”

“That’s quite impossible, I’m afraid. You see, all of this, it was supposed to happen. The apocalypse was supposed to happen. Your wife was supposed to die. It’s the order of things. I needed to wait until now to make you this offer because of her.”

“That’s insane. The end of everything? The death of my wife?” Five couldn’t believe what this woman was telling him and he sure as hell didn’t wanted to just take the death of (Y/N).

“Not the end of everything. Just the end of… some things. So...” , she made a small pause and sticks her hand out in Five’s direction, “...do we have an agreement?”

Five scoffs but thinks about it for a moment. His gun was already lowered and he looked around. He had spend so much time here but there was nothing left here he could hold onto with the love of his life dead under some ruins of old things that once were. Could he really just leave this place that easily, without you by his side? Would it be worth it? He knew you would have wanted him to take this chance.

He turned towards the woman again with his decision in mind…

You didn’t know what had happened or how you landed in this situation but it was maniacal and excruciating. You had woken up on a bed in a completely white room with no recollection of what had happened besides the fight with Five and that you had stormed off, mad at your partner and done with the whole situation regarding his ego. 

That was a long while ago in your eyes, probably have been two years at this point. Even if this time wasn’t as long as the time you had spent stuck in the apocalypse with Five was, it felt like an even longer time when the love of your life was missing from it.

They never told you what happened to him or why they had gotten you, only making you the offer that if you worked for them you would be allowed to leave to a place and time of your choosing. You hadn’t had much of a choice and took it as an opportunity to maybe one day be able to see life again. See Five again.

But the hole that Five left in you could never be filled again. He made an imprint on your soul and losing him without knowing what had happened drove you insane. Why wouldn’t they tell you? Why would they keep it to themselves?

 Sometimes at night you could still hear his voice ringing in your ears and see his face right before your inner eye. He was so close but you could never grasp onto him, it was torture. In those moments you couldn’t hold your emotions in anymore. Your whole body would start to tremble and the tears would flow like the niagara falls down your cheeks. You would scream your lungs out in agony and would always repeat the same thing. Why?! Why him?! 

All of this pain, sadness and absolute rage that was building up in you made you into a ticking time bomb, and the Commission knew that. Having you in this state of mind, in this state of despair and willingness to do anything could come in handy for special missions… And they didn’t have to wait long for that special occasion to come…

Five spent the last two years assassinating people and putting the time continuum back on track when it was disturbed. Letting this new found work consume him was the only way for him to even deal in the slightest with your death. It still felt like yesterday that he lost you and had to hear it was his fault. 

In moments were he doubted himself and what he was doing was morally correct he heard your voice in his head. Sometimes it were the fights that would start re-playing, when you both were screaming at the top of your lungs, voices filled with annoyance, anger and frustration directed at one another. Those were the hardest memories to re-live because the last time he spoke to you was after one of those god awful fights. He still remembered how your face was distorted by anger and sadness and oh how he wished he had the chance to apologize to you and make it right again…

Other times, rarer times, Five remembered the soft and tender moments with you. The once were you both were happy and would smile, laugh and were everything seemed to be alright. Oh how he loved your smile and your beautiful laugh. It was like art in his eyes and music to his ears. What a beautiful symphony... Nothing he had every experienced could compare to this. To you...

And he missed it, more than he could have ever imagined. The only thing he would feel was pain, neverending pain, and he let it out with anger and resentment towards the people who had saved him. According to Five’s opinion he shouldn’t have been given this opportunity, shouldn’t have been saved. You were the one supposed to be saved! You were the casualty of his wrong-doings! He should have died there in solitude for being the cause of your death.

But Five knew that there was a way to prevent this, to prevent everything that is going to happen and that already happened. To prevent you from seeing your untimely death… He needed to get back to the time before the apocalypse even happened and stop it from ever starting. Five was well aware of the fact that the possibility of you two never getting together was in the room when he went through with stopping it. The time continuum was a very complex thing and would get distorted very easily, you two would probably never be stuck together or even meet, but Five didn’t care. As long as you were alive and well he was ok with everything… You were his world and if it meant giving you up so you would be alright, he would do it in a heartbeat… 

There stood an old man at a fence with a rifle in his hand. This man had a mission and this mission was to kill the current president John F. Kennedy on the 22nd of November 1963 at exact 12:30pm. The target would ride in a presidential motorcade through Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas. 

This mission was an easy one for the trained man, or it should have been. The man knew that this would be the right time to start his plan, his plan in getting to the time before the apocalypse would begin and avert it. His employers never realized that he was just biding his time since the beginning and try to figure out the right equation for his jump… And finally he did.

So at last he broke his contract with them and started to concentrate in challenging his powers to travel through time once again. God when was the last time he used them? 

Loud whooshing noises appeared and his hands started to glow blue and produce an electric bluefield. A portal started to build up in front of him and he knew if he was able to get through it he could save all of them, save her.

The man made his first step and tried with all his power to force himself through…

Saint Petersburg, 25th of July 1904. 

This was supposed to be the last mission for the woman, she had never done anything like this before and she knew very well that they took her to do this mission because of her inexperience. But she didn’t care.

The target was the director of Imperial Russia’s police and later Minister of the Interior. His name was Vyacheslav Konstantinovich von Plehve and the reason for the Commission to kill him was that he seemed to always find a way to survive. He already managed to dodge three attacks and for the Commission it just was two too many times. It needed to be done for the sake of the future so here she was.

Everything was staged so it would look like the Socialist-Revolutionary Combat Organization finally succeeded in their assassination attempts, the only thing to do now was wait until Plehve ’s horse drawn carriage would come by and throw the bomb into it. An easy job with the possibility of dying. What else would you do on a monday?

It was hard for the woman to just stand there and wait, knowing that she was about to murder someone in the next five minutes, but was there really anything she could do? It was part of the deal, part of the contract she signed to do whatever they wanted. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves as best as she can, but still her body shook and her breaths turned shaky. Was this really going to happen?

The sound of hooves clicking on stone and the rattling of wheels being drawn over the uneven ground indicated that the carriage and therefore the target was nearing her position. The woman opened her eyes and gazed in the direction of the oncoming noises. This was it. This was the final moment. Her mind wandered and her long lived life started to flash right before her inner eyes. Most of those memories were of him and she knew that she would be seeing him soon.

With a last deep breath taken she reached back and threw the bomb. When suddenly everything began to spin…

Two figures hit the grassy ground at the same time. These two figures looked like two teenager who could not be older than 13 years old. They were a boy and a girl, both not being seen in ages but now back in a time where they should have belonged a long while ago. When both looked up and saw each other you could see a lot of emotions on their faces but the one that stood out the most in this moment was shock.

“(Y-Y/N)?”

“Five? Is that really you?”

Five had to explain to his family what exactly happened to him in the last few years, how he ended up in the apocalyptic future, that he tried for all those years how to come back and who she was. He never thought he would see her again after everything that happened within the last few years.

When everything was said that had been needed to said he took you up with him to his old room to have some privacy and apologize.

As soon as the door fell shut behind you, you two embraced each other in a tight and long awaited hug. Neither of you wanted or planned on letting go in fear of the other disappearing again. Tears were rolling down your cheeks and you couldn’t prevent a sob from escaping your lips.

“They told me… They told me you died and that it was my fault, (Y/N). I am so sorry for everything.” Five spoke out his thoughts first with a slight shakiness to his voice. 

“I-I thought you were dead too… The Commission never told me what happened… I’ve missed you so much.” You tried to hold back your sobs while speaking which you didn’t succeed in quite that well.

You both didn’t exactly know what to do next but for the time being, being in each other’s arms was enough.

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass (Part 2)

There is a part 3 coming, I think these two deserve the...culmination, but I wasn’t sure if I could have it ready soon enough. Stay tuned for more, hope you enjoy! x

Part 1   -   Part 3*

It starts with a resounding bang. A back curving over maple hardwood; taut muscle stretching soft cotton fabric; twin jades squinted in concentration; a shoulder blade protruding briefly for one swift determining movement. Red, blue, yellow, purple, orange phenolic resin scattering across green worsted wool like a dozen pinballs simultaneously kicked in various directions.

It ends with the deep echo. A ball falling into emptiness before meeting rock-bottom; the release of a soft withheld breath; firm flesh unflexing with satisfaction; two sets of glossy eyes meeting in a knowing look. "Nice break, Styles. Stripes it is," y/n happily comments once Harry leans back from the pool table.

Gibson’s is full of rowdy chatters, tipsy laughs and fulsome smiles. Strangers bonding for a night of undiluted carefreeness, clicking drinks after merry drinks in honor to their new ephemeral best friends. All sorrows have been forsaken on the coat rack at the entrance,  hung in insouciance, leaving nothing but good spirits to sit at the tables and loiter near the bar. Everything about this place is warm and nurturing, a cosy embrace after a tedious day, a home for the people that lets them nurse bottles and wounds alike, and sees them leave later on, cheerful, relaxed and healing. It took but a second for Harry to understand why y/n is so fond of the place and he was not surprised to find her on a first-name basis with the barmaid, the two of them catching up on life while she was preparing the drinks.

Now, fifteen minutes in, they’ve happily made their way to the vacant timeworn pool table at a secluded corner of the bar, drinks and grins in toe. The space is only lit up by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting daedal shadows along the walls and across the table’s carpeted surface. The subdued light and music crooning in the background make for a suggestive atmosphere, air thick with limitless curiosity and enticing promises.

The corner of Harry’s lips quirks in a wry smile and a bold glint takes residence at the crease of his eyes; the telltale sign of a burgeoning idea brewing up in his cheeky mind. "What’dya say we make this a lil more interesting?" The offer is served with a raised brow, a hand on his waist, and one foot perched on its toes over the other as he leans against the cue.

From across the pool table, y/n is quite endeared at the sight but her response comes out in fake offense,"oh I’m sorry, am I boring you already?"

"Quite the opposite actually." His head tilts the slightest bit to the side, gaze unwavering from her face in a mission for persuasion.

Her lips grimace as she tries to suppress a betraying smile to no avail, "fine, I’m listening."

He grins victoriously at her inability to keep a straight face, his limbs dislodging from his casual pose. "We take turns," his motions at the space between them. "F’we pocket, we get to ask one question. No bullshit answer, jus’ the truth." His eyes are wide as he gauges her response.

"A question, huh?" she takes her time to contemplate the proposition just to watch him squirm in impatience. "Damn, for a sec I thought you were about to suggest strip-pool." She sends him a playful look as she walks the length of the table to step closer to him and have a better look at his chiseled features.

"I mean, m’totally down but might be a bit unfair on your part," his eyes briefly trail down her body in silent conveyance of her single-piece attire. He’s got much more material to shed before exposing skin than she does.

"Wouldn��t you like to know." The suggestive retort has Harry’s stomach churn with humid passion, the question of just how many layers she’s wearing exactly, playing with the most lascivious parts of his brain. "Not that it matters, you’d be butt-naked before you’d get a nip-slip."

"Overestimating yourself?"

"Just giving you fair warning," she shrugs in nonchalance running her fingers along the edge of the table, "so you know what you’re getting yourself into."

When she lifts her head back to connect their gaze again, she finds him biting at his bottom lip to contain his signature smirk, "no worries there, darlin’. M’all willing." He almost punctuates his retort with a salacious wink but decides to save it for a more opportune time. Something tells him he’s in for a long evening, not that it’s any cause for concern. Like he said, he is very much consenting to anything her heart desires to do to him.

"Good to know." Y/n quips back with a smile before leaning on her hand resting upon the pool table. "What’s your question then?"

For a moment, Harry forgets he just broke the rack and successfully sent a plain purple ball in one of the table’s pocket, taking him one step closer to victory and granting him one question as per his own proposition. He quickly gathers his reeling thoughts before settling on an easy inquiry, fingers fiddling with the desire to sketch every bit of her character. "Right um, do you have other hobbies besides playin- or should I say, winning pool?"

She wants to slap- or should she say, kiss the smug look off his lovely face, but her answers airs in the same level tone she employs at work, "yes I do."

It’s not enough for Harry’s archeologic curiosity though. He’s barely dusted off the ground beneath his feet to reveal the hint of new groundbreaking findings; armed with sieves and brushes, he is eager to dig a little further, "and what might those be?"

However, y/n is quick to rebuff him, "uh uh, that’s two questions."

Indignation soars through his straightened posture, as he cries out a faint ’what? no!’ and her own ego grows two size at her cunning deceit, "gotta up your game if you wanna keep that perky bum intact, Styles."

Earlier words resonate in the confines of his outfoxed mind then, you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and he tries really hard not to think about the promise following them. Instead he counterattacks in obvious diversion tactic, "that’s twice you’ve mentioned my ass in the past 5 minutes, perhaps I should read into it?"

"I guess you’ll have to wait and see," she lithely deflects as she grabs her own cue with a determined look etched upon her face, "my turn now."

With powerful strides, y/n navigates around the table to position herself at the most promising angle for a score of her own. Once she has both her target and the cue ball in firing line, she tunes out every last bit of stimulus encompassing her; the muffled sound of the music, the sticky oxygen filling up her lungs with sensual tension, the charming presence of the beau intently ogling her every move.

It barely takes her a couple seconds of intense concentration before a sharp thump is bouncing off the table and piercing through the air. The shot is so accurate, clean-cut, vigorous yet graceful and elegant all out once, Harry finds himself mesmerized by her skills more than the subtle form curving out from her bent posture.

The satisfaction is evident in her traits as she straightens up to face him, a pleased rictus forming at her lips. She doesn’t let any suspense unfurl before she cashes in her prize, "so what’s up with the muffin deliveries? You a stress-baker or summat?"

It’s a puzzle that’s been boggling her mind for while now; ever since the first time she watched him gallivanting around the office, handing out kindness and freshly baked goods for the small price of a friendly smile; it’d been a reoccurring thing ever since. The recollection has Harry’s cheeks warm up to a bashful shade of vermillion at the thought of admitting the reason behind his action: he’d bake a basketful of cakes just so he could give her one without exposing himself. Being straight forward with his infatuation may have been unfeasible at the time, but there was nothing against inconspicuously indulging the sweet tooth he knew she had, right?

"I dunno, just like seein' people smile, and everyone likes a good muffin, right?" His answer teeters on the ledge between veracity and evasion, the genuine ‘they were all for you’ being replaced by a less naked truth.

Y/n nods at his answer and waits until he is about to aim for another shot to voice her musings out loud, "mmm, they are quite delicious." Her attempt to distract him turns fruitful when his ears perks at her sultry voice right as he pointedly knocks the white ball with his cue. It’s off by an inch but a near-hit doesn’t help assuage his frustration, "fuck."

"Oh bummer. Guess you’ll have to pass," y/n can’t help but to tease him.

And the pout on his lips does nothing to quell her amusement, "bollocks, you distracted me."

"I did no such thing," she denies before taking his place at the table. The odds are in her favor, a perfect alignment offering itself to sink the blue striped ball right into the closest pocket. And because y/n never misses a clear shot when she’s handed one, that’s exactly what happens. Tucking the cue back at her side, she mulls over the hundred questions titillating her mind and settles for another pass at him,"is this suit the most extravagant you own and if not, what are the others like?"

Harry scrunches up his nose at yet another dig taken at the expense of his clothes, his voice pitching a halftone higher than usual, "hey, s’nough outta you, leave my suits out of it." There is a pout puckering at his lips and y/n giggles at his theatrics when he brings his hands to his chest in a protective gesture. This man and his suits…

"Somehow I don’t believe you give a single fuck about people’s opinion on your fashion choices."

"Very true. But I do value your opinion." For a brief moment, humor and wit give way to vulnerable sincerity as the two of them lock eyes over the pool table. A shy smile graces y/n’s lips, her heart faltering at his sweet sentiment before Harry gently breaks the consuming stare-off, "well, if you’re lookin’ fo’ more extravagant, I actually have a canary yellow flared suit that goes with a violet dress-shirt." And just like that, they found their way back to confidential banter.

"Damn, now I have to see it."

"One day if you’re lucky," this time he does wink at her, and this time he doesn’t let her enchantress juju distract him from the task at hand. As soon as the balls vanishes from the table, the question flies out of his mouth, "do you really find my suits obnoxious?"

Y/n pauses at the inquiry and tries to read into his eyes. She inspects the bright emeralds for  any unsuspected insecurities and when she finds none, she sends him a simple smile, "I love them. I just enjoy too much your reactions when I give you shit about them." Her chuckle tugs at Harry’s lips, before she lets honesty flooding past hers, "you got such a great sense of who you are, Harry, it just shows in the way you dress. I admire that, don’t let that go."

Interiorly, he’s heart is jumping in somersaults at possibly the kindest compliment someone’s ever granted him, the fact that it came from her only sending his beating organ into more acrobatics. Exteriorly, he returns her tender smile and mutters a timorous ‘thanks love,’ before watching her pocket another ball.

This time she doesn’t have to mull it over, "why did you wait?"

"Huh?"

"When we kissed earlier, you said you’d wanted to do it for a while. Why didn’t you?"

Her words are bare of any reproach as they both lean on their side against the table, inches apart from each other. It’s a fair question; one that she doesn’t really own as the word could have easily tumbled out from his mouth instead. It’s him on the spot though, and while he didn’t quite expect to broach such hazardous matters over a game of pool, he appreciates the openness of their bond. "I dunno, you always seemed so attached to boundaries at work, always so professional, I didn’t think you’d want me to make a move."

"I secretly did," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Goosebumps race down Harry’s arms as he takes in her confession and the way her teeth are  nipping her lips into a darker shade of pink. His eyes are drawn to them, the urge to close the gap and have her moaning in his mouth growing harder and harder to ignore, "fuck that’s sexy. You’re sexy."

The praise washes over y/n like a cold shower after a scorching day at the beach; startling shivers at first, golden skin tingling, and then all-encompassing relief. She loves how unfiltered he is with her, baring his thoughts to her just as they come, no editing, no secret agenda, no diffidence. Just her pure effect on him plastered across his beautiful face and candy-coating his words with a thick oozing layer of honeycomb syrup.

Leaning the slightest bit towards him, she tempts him with a near-kiss, almost dipping her lips in exquisite spongy fudge, but stops just as their breaths starts blending in one hot mess, "your turn," she purrs against his lips tantalizingly, before stepping away.

Harry looks like he is now the one in need of a cold shower, eyes pinched closed as he tries to compose himself, "right," he clears his throat. It takes him a bit more time to regain enough focus to make a successful go at the game, but once he’s got a good hold on the cue, a stable breath and a clear view of the shot, he takes it with ease and fortune.

As soon as he straightens up, he erases the distance between them, a determined look hardening the subtle lines of his face. "Did you ever think about me like I thought about you? At work, did you ever see me pass in the hallway and it took everythin’ you had not to follow me and kiss me senseless in the copy-machine room while no-one was watchin’?"

"Fuck. The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice," y/n confesses in batted breath. It’s clear the scenario isn’t so much a fabrication of his mind made on the spot as it is  a confession of his own experience, and the thought has the air in her lungs going scarce, as though she’s reached the apex of Mount Everest.

Harry isn’t fending off the heated tension much better, fingers twitching around his cue as he’d rather have her underneath his fingertips instead. He takes one look at the ceiling to stave his yearning some and draws in a deep breath."This is killing me," he whimpers while his lips skim over he skin of her forehead. "Go on, take your damn shot so we can be done with this game."

"It was your idea," she reminds him wryly. All of it, really; coming here, playing pool, playing 20 fucking questions, this heated hodgepodge of salacity and virtuous adoration is all his doing.

"I miscalculated."

"Poor you," y/n gently mocks is disgruntled attitude before scoring another ball, or as she likes to regard, another question, another opportunity to further tease at his already crumbling countenance, "what about you, Harry, do you ever think about me? At work… or otherwise?"

She already knows the first half of the answer and only voiced the double-entendre to rile him up, so she’s quite stunned when he whizzes, "too fucking much fo’ my own good."

The pained expression on his face is almost comical for y/n, she can’t resist probing at his despair, "me too." He groans at the flowing visuals he can’t ban from his filthy mind before she gestures towards the pool table in a gentlemanly way, "and that’s your cue," they both share a chuckle at her silly pun.

If Harry wasn’t so lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, he would revel in the way their intellects seem to dovetail on all fronts; humor, banter, seduction, sincerity, nothing is lost in translation, they seem to talk in the same love language. From teasing digs and dirty innuendos to play on words or heartfelt confessions, they know exactly which frequency to tune in.

"Fuck, I can’t see straight," he laughs as he misses a shot for the second time, and y/n quickly takes over his spot around the pool table. Settle, relax, aim, breathe, shoot; another point to her flawless record. She turns to him, looking intently at his blown irises to stir up the flame already inhabiting them, "was it good?"

"Mind-blowing," he answers without unlocking their eyes, and the whole conversation is starting to get to her too. Her thighs rub against together, knuckles turning white around her cue as she tightens her grip and Harry has to bite his lips to contain a moan. He tries to distract himself by taking his turn in the game, and burst out in laughter when he pockets the ball and y/n cries out, "blue ball in the pocket! I feel like their might be a subliminal message somewhere but I can’t quite put my finger on it"

Once they regain their breath from laughing, tears of joy actually peeling from the corner of their eyes, they go back to staring at each other. It’s Harry’s turn to ask a question, and the anticipation had y/n fidgeting under his consuming gaze. She expects him to bounce back on the previous question, but to her surprise he decides to take a different route, "tell me darlin’, if I were to kneel at your feet and look up that pretty dress right now, what color your lil panties would be?"

The question sounds boyish really, yet instead of rolling her eyes at him, her core clenches around emptiness at the thought of having him between her legs right this moment, "can’t answer that, sorry."

"Oh come on love, you gotta say. Them’s the rules," Harry tries to coax the answer out of her but she’s not budging.

"Sorry, Harry. I’d tell you if there was anything to tell." His eyes widen at her lewd implication, the revelation of just how many layers away she is from being in the nude, coming into light. Damn, he would have gotten much more than a nip-slip.

"Fuck me, I need to sit down for a mo’."

She laughs at his dramatic response before picking up her cue, "you do that, in the mean time…" The rest of her sentence is cut short as she positions herself at the pool table, and the next sound cutting through the humid atmosphere comes from the ball falling into its target.

"Jesus, do you ever miss?"

"I don’t play to lose, Styles," she quips back. "Now, what’s your biggest fantasy? Aside from shagging in the copy-machine room, that is."

Harry takes one step closer, gently backing her against the table with one hand encasing her at either side of her waist. As he towers over her, his ardent look ignites a fire at the pit of y/n’s stomach, flame licking all the way up to her heart and down to her toes. Her core throbs before the words fall out of his supple lips like maple syrup on a stack of fluffy pancakes. "Right now? Bend you over this pool table and have my way with you."

"In front of all this people?"

"What d’you think is stoppin’ me from doin’ it right now?"

"Manners?"

The retort earns her a deep chuckle, as he shakes his head in disbelief, "fuck y/n, I lost my manners the moment you kissed me."

The raw admission sends a shiver down her spine, before she regains her full bearings and pushing his cue against his chest for him to grab, "your turn."

Barely moving from his spot nestled against her, he successfully sends the ball down the drain and doesn’t waste any time before asking in the same sultry voice, "favorite position?"

‘Why are y’asking?"

"Future reference," he announces confident.

"Well in that case, kinda like this…" she brushes against him as she bends over the table, ass jutted out on one side, before adjusting the angle of her cue and aiming for the pocket, "…when everything aligns and it just sinks…" bam, she propels the sphere in one strong hit "…right through." She finishes her demonstration with a score and a suggestive smile, only but one ball left for her to obliterate; the eight ball. "Are you ready to lose, Styles?"

"Dunno, is that your question?"

"Yes. I got everything I want to know already."

"Then I don’t fucking care about losin", s’not the game I wanna play anymore," he trails a finger down the skin of her back, goosebumps erupting at his touch. He is stopped by the tip of her cue pressing at his chest, slowly pushing him back from her space, and his hands meet this air in surrender. She’s got a wicked smile on her lips and a title to uphold after all, "last shot, make it count."

Harry takes the shot hastily, half expecting another miss, but the solid yellow ball disappears into the table’s corner in a vibrant crash. Eyebrows raised and shallow breath, he pivots back towards her, "please tell me this is turnin’ you on s’much as it’s turnin’ me on?"

"Yes," she rubs the exposed skin of his chest, eyes leaving his face to trail down his torso. "I’m just better at hiding it," she brings her lips to his ear, "physically or otherwise apparently." Then she leaves a loud smack on his cheek and goes around the table to sink the last ball standing in the way of her victory. In true y/n fashion, she completes a faultless round with one last graceful hit that leaves Harry transfixed by her dexterity.

"Damn, you are the queen of pool, I’m bowing down to you. Any final question?"

She lays the cue down on the table before coming up to him, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me back to my place?"

His head falls back on its neck, eyes closing in deliverance, "fuck yeah." This whole night may have been the most intense and rousing foreplay he’s ever experienced, he can’t wait to deliver good on his own promise.

➪ Masterlist

[bcbdrums]

Check out my prison tats, Yo!

Somehow, I never posted this fic???  If I did and someone knows where the post is...please, tell me.  This is my cheater’s way of answering @drakgoprompts latest about tattoos, throwing this old one up.  But it’s an old fave!

FFn     AO3

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Shego adjusted the fit of her suit in the mirror and then reached into her duffel bag for her hair brush. She supposed it was time to change after three lairs had turned up empty—she wasn't dropping in casually, like she'd told herself she was. Now she was full-on searching for Drakken.

After another week at the spa and absolutely nothing worthwhile in the classifieds, she supposed it wouldn't hurt to see if he had anything new planned. He was usually off-and-running again with new schemes in less than week after a failure, and the alien amazon had hit the road seven days ago. That was plenty of time for him to soothe his ego, right?

But with two underwater lairs and the arctic lair turning up empty, now she was beginning to wonder. He hadn't been arrested again, so just where was he?

After fixing her hair, she slipped her gloves on and zipped the duffel bag up tightly. She glanced around carefully, watching for traps yet again as she exited the bathroom of the time-share lair. A suspicious-looking Professor Dementor stood with arms crossed next to the front door.

At least he had let her change in the bathroom. Now that she had gone through existing lairs, it was time for the destroyed ones. And if those turned up empty too...

"Are you sure you haven't seen him?" she asked, pausing on her way out the door.

Dementor smirked in a way that made her want to retreat, but she didn't give him the satisfaction. "We thought you were finally done with him."

Shego's only reply was to turn and leave. Her contract with Drakken was none of Dementor's or anyone else's business. So she had decided to take an extended vacation after her last prison break, so what? He'd gotten out eventually, thanks to that alien giantess. He was fine.

Wasn't he?

The closest lair was the one in the Caribbean, though after it had been decimated by that alien's interference she was sure it was gone for good. But since she was running out of places to look, she supposed it deserved a shot.

She had to steal a boat to get there. Any hover cars were no doubt impounded by the government, or worse—by Global Justice. Those vehicles had been one major advantage of being in Drakken's employ. Having to rely on standard transportation, even when she didn't pay for it, was far less efficient.

As she approached the island she was surprised to look up and see scaffolding surrounding all of the destruction at the top.

He must be there.

She used one of the intact secret entrances on the beach and then the stairs to ascend the mountain, up to the point where the destruction made standard passage impossible. She picked her way through the ruins of several floors of the lair until reaching the top.

The red-clad henchmen were everywhere. Some leaned over blueprints and argued about framing, some were in the act of rebuilding the the outer walls, and others were clearing out the rubble. And in the midst of all the red, there was one person in blue.

The henchmen gave her a wide berth as she made her way towards Drakken, but he didn't notice her approach. He was hunched over farther than usual, looking around in the mess on the floor apparently for something specific, and his expression was dark and brooding.

"I thought you'd have finally kissed this one goodbye, Doc?" she greeted.

He jumped, startled by her voice. As soon as he laid eyes on her his expression became so vile that she nearly recoiled. But then his face twisted in pain and he reached behind him to dig the knuckles of one hand into his neck.

"This lair is nostalgic. But yes, I'll need to move out for awhile until the construction is completed. The noise will be too distracting..." he said, resuming his search among the debris on the floor. "Ah!"

He reached down with one hand, using the other to brace himself against a chair that had tipped over, and then lifted up a dirty teddy bear. He slowly straightened and then embraced the bear.

Shego wanted to roll her eyes, but found herself transfixed. Something was different about him.

'Definitely different,' she thought, as he walked with a noticeable limp toward a large crate in the center of the room that had been cleared. One hand alternated between pressing into his mid-back and his neck as he slowly moved toward it, and finally he dropped the stuffed animal inside.

His relief as he leaned against the crate was obvious. Far too obvious, for someone with as much pride as Drakken.

"You, uh...you all right, Dr. D.?" she asked, following him over.

"Do I look all right!?" he snapped, turning toward her with ferocity.

This time she did recoil at the same time as he gasped in pain and reached both hands behind his neck and closed his eyes tightly, searching for relief.

"What...happened?" Shego asked carefully, against her better judgment.

Drakken's eyes opened, but then narrowed on hers. "I suppose you would forget that I was thrown a mile high by an alien and then left for dead. Just like you forgot to break me out of prison..." The last was said in a mumble, but not nearly soft enough that she couldn't hear him.

Shego wanted to comment about his defeat by Kim Possible with the Lil' Diablos. In fact she had several comments about that, most of them related to the tower collapsing on her after she'd been electrocuted. But for some reason his words 'left for dead' hit her hard.

After the alien took off she had just left. She didn't bother to see what had happened to him after the alien had thrown him through the roof. Clearly he hadn't had a soft landing. Of course, she'd been nursing several bruises of her own after the encounter.

But she was a super-human. Drakken was not.

He had gone back to limping around the lair and picking through the mess on the floor. He looked angrier than she had ever seen him. But if he was in as much pain as he acted, perhaps it was justified.

"Well...I'm here now," she said, approaching him. He looked at her sharply again, his face a mixture of distrust, anger, and God help him—hope. She sighed. "What exactly are you looking for?"

He turned his gaze back to the floor. "My personal belongings, and anything that can be salvaged for future use. Small things go in that crate, big things in that one," he said, pointing. He rubbed his neck again after doing so, craning it backwards with a grimace of pain. "Why are you here, anyway?"

She ignored the question as she reached him, fascinated by his apparent injuries and his iron-will in the face of them. And then she noticed something else.

"Dr. D., you have some schmutz on your face. Right here," she said, pointing at the corner of her own eye.

"Where?" he said, rubbing all over the side of his face. The smudge remained.

"Here, let me," she said, licking her gloved thumb and reaching up to rub at the spot. He tried to back away but she held him firmly in place with her other hand on his shoulder.

"Ow!" he said as she scrubbed at the spot. It stayed firmly in place.

"Stubborn little..." she said, leaning closer. And then her eyes widened and she froze.

It wasn't dirt on his face, but two tiny tattoos in the shape of tear drops. One was all black, and the other was a mere outline.

She stood as if suspended in time, one hand still holding his shoulder and the other hovering just above his jaw line as she stared at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but found it wouldn't move. "The...tattoos," she said, her voice coming out far more calmly than she expected.

"Oh, those. Tell me, do they balance out the scar? The henchmen told me yes, but I'm not convinced."

She barely heard him, her heart racing now and the blood thudding heavily in her ears. She knew what tear drop tattoos meant. She'd spent enough time in various prisons to learn all about them, and about all of the gang symbols and other markings that told an inmate's story.

But in her opinion, tear drop tattoos were the worst of all.

"I regret all of them. Big John—that was his name—"

Shego shuddered and stepped back, clutching her hands together against her chest.

"He said each tattoo would hurt less, but they didn't. So now I have five stupid inks. Isn't that what they call them, 'inks'? But..." he sighed, "I only have myself to blame for four of them. I chose them, after all. Wanted to be hip to the prison crowd since I was going to be in there a long time."

Shego missed his dig against her, still in shock. Frightening memories of the time someone had tried to claim her with a tear drop of their own came back to her. Of course, she had her powers to defend herself. But what did Drakken have? And—she swallowed again and found her mouth dry as she realized—he was in a men-only ward...

She shook her head in revulsion at the images that struck her imagination, of him trying and failing to protect himself, of being forced into who knew how many acts against his will, undoubtedly violent, his very humanity violated. And the final humiliation, being branded so everyone would know.

Drakken was looking at her in confusion, and she realized what her face must look like. She blinked several times and tried to come back to herself. But the horror was so fresh that she found she couldn't. And Drakken... How could he be so nonchalant?

He finally gave up due to her silence and resumed his clean-up. Shego's eyes remained fixed on the two tiny tear drops. No way a big softy like him wasn't affected by it. But maybe he was trying to block it out. It definitely wouldn't help to have her bringing up the memories.

She started picking among the debris herself, noticing now that some of her own belongings were in the mix. But she couldn't bring herself to care about them.

She felt guilty.

She had only been incarcerated for a few months before she had been broken out by Motor Ed. Would it have really killed her to get him out too? She didn't have to go back to work for him afterward.

Of course, by three months it was probably...too late. So it wasn't her fault.

Drakken leaned on a crate and paused to rub his neck again, his expression suggesting he was in agony.

But leaving him for dead after that alien's attack certainly was her fault. The ache in her chest grew to include her stomach, and she suddenly felt compelled to apologize to him.

She pulled out her cell phone instead.

"If your neck hurts that much, you should get a massage. I'll hook you up with the best therapist I know," she said, paging through her contacts.

Drakken looked over at her. There was slightly less suspicion in his eyes.

"Who?"

"Midas. He's at the Mount Olympus spa, where I—" she stopped short, realizing that mentioning her 'vacation' was probably not the best idea.

"Wait, that place in Greece? I don't have time for that! I have to get to Tahiti!"

Shego blinked at the non sequitur, but let it pass with the way he was holding his neck again with both hands and had his jaw set.

"Well...then let me," she said, approaching him again.

"What?" he said, looking almost like his old self for the first time. Him being afraid of her felt normal enough that it made the ache in her chest lessen ever-so-slightly.

"Yeah. What happened to the couch?" stepping behind him and setting her hands on his shoulders.

"It's...um...over there," he pointed to another pile of rubble.

"Let's go," she said, gently pushing him. They reached the place in the far corner of what had been the lab and she began throwing debris off of the couch. "Take your coat off."

"What?" he said nervously, looking even more like himself.

"Yeah, so I can actually get to the sore spots."

He hesitated, and then undid the fastenings of his blue lab coat and then took it off, draping it over the back of the sofa.

"Doc. Seriously?" she asked, looking over his attire. Beneath the coat were blue suit pants and a white dress shirt, buttoned up to the collar.

"It fits the mad scientist motif," he argued.

"No, it doesn't," she said, positioning some pillows she'd picked up from the floor. "Take the shirt off too and then lay down."

"Sh-shirt...?"

"Yeah... Got a hearing problem?"

She settled for the tame insult as opposed to the one that wanted to come out naturally—asking if his injuries from the alien encounter included hearing loss. But he was in so much pain—a week later, she realized—and she still felt guilty about leaving him both after that and now leaving him in prison. The harsher insults could wait for later.

He lay the shirt over the back of the couch, now sporting a white tank top that was tucked into his suit pants.

"Okay, lay on your front now," she said.

He complied and she realized that he must have had massages before, the way he placed his hands and his head. She also noticed that he must have spent some time in prison working out, considering how lean his frame was and how toned his arms were.

Then she noticed the spiderweb tattoo circling one of his elbows.

She began massaging his shoulders.

The sharp gasp that instantly escaped his lips at her touch made her wonder if he shouldn't be on his way to a doctor instead of Tahiti—whatever that was about—but it would probably end in recapture and more work for her. So, massage it would be.

"Nice spiderweb."

"Thanks. I hate it," he said, his voice muffled by the upholstery.

"I dunno Doc, it makes you look kind of tough. Although the heart doesn't," she said, noticing the red symbol on his bicep on the other arm. It had an arrow going through it, and the word 'Mother.'

"That was the last one I got," he said, shifting so he could speak more easily. "Big John said it was a good start to a sleeve."

Shego felt the lump return to her throat at the mention of Big John, and she looked at the tear drops again. Was he the one who had...?

"What was the first?" she asked quietly.

He shifted again. "Pull my shirt down," he said.

She blinked, wondering if he had really just said that. But she pulled the back of the tank top down until she saw the curved line of text just beneath it.

"'Only God can judge me?' Really, Dr. D.?"

"I was drunk off of their illegal hooch, okay? Never tasted such high alcohol content before..." he muttered.

She resumed the massage, working up to his neck now. Another sharp gasp escaped his lips and she looked at his face in concern, wondering if she was making the pain worse. Her eyes widened as she saw real tears streaking down his cheeks next to the tattoos.

She turned her thumbs in smooth, firm circles over his tight muscles as she watched his face. The ache in her chest returned full force as she understood his vulnerability. For all of the things Drakken was and all the things he wasn't, he still kept a wall up just like she did. His just looked different than most people's, with his 'cocoa moo' and Snowman Hank marathons. But a wall was still a wall.

"Thank you Shego," he said, his voice hoarse.

But he was in pain. His wall was cracked. And she found herself wanting to let hers down just a bit too, if only to meet him halfway. He was forgiving her after all...wasn't he?

"You said you got five tattoos. Do the...tear drops count as one, or two?"

"One," he answered, opening his eyes so he could meet her gaze. She had shifted to the side to allow him to do so. His expression was uncharacteristically sober. "You...know what they mean?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes. Well, sort of," she said, trying to cover the discomfort she suddenly felt. "Why is one just an outline?"

"An outline just means attempted murder," he said, closing his eyes again.

Shego blinked. What?

"And I've been thinking Shego..." he continued, "maybe we should do a little less wanton destruction. People do get hurt. And that won't exactly endear me to them as their future ruler."

Shego was still reeling from the revelation. 'Attempted murder?' Then the other tear drop that was filled in...

"And this reminder in the mirror, every day...that I've killed..." he said, his voice growing sober again. "They're not...really my enemy. I could end up killing someone like me, with such carelessness. The public are all...individuals."

Shego was hanging on every word, making sure she understood his meaning. She looked at the tear drop tattoos again, her eyes wide. The outline meant attempted murder, and the solid black drop just meant...murder.

Relief flooded her until every nerve was tingling and cool, all the way to her toes.

"So you weren't—" she blurted out, but then clamped down on her words.

He opened an eye to peer at her. "Weren't what?"

She took a few breaths to calm down, and found the corners of her lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Apparently prison tattoos had multiple meanings.

"Nothing," she said, continuing to ease his tense muscles. "Um...yeah, we can talk about boundaries for violence," she said, trying to put him off of her near-slip.

No way she would ever tell him that she'd thought he'd been raped.

He was still eyeing her, his expression growing suspicious again.

"Um. You said you had five tattoos. What's the fifth?" she asked with a bit too much interest.

Suddenly he began pushing himself off the couch. "The one I regret the most!" he said, his anger back like a whirlwind.

"Hey! Dr. D., stop. You're in pain."

He proved her point by reaching up to his neck again and clenching his teeth.

"Come on, I want to help. You can tell me about your next plan. What's in Tahiti, anyway?"

His anger was back in full force, and he stood up painfully from the couch and gathered up his shirt and lab coat.

"You? Help? I'd laugh if it wouldn't hurt so much," he said, turning and limping toward his room.

Shego watched him go, the dull ache returning to her chest. If he hadn't been...violated the way she'd thought, why was he still so mad?

Maybe they did need to have a talk about boundaries for violence.

In his room Drakken turned on the still-functioning tap to begin filling the bath tub with hot water. Perhaps he could find some relief there.

He dropped his shirt and lab coat on his rubble-dirtied bed and continued disrobing, watching himself in a cracked mirror as he did so. If he wasn't in so much pain, he might have been pleased with the truly hateful expression on his face. It made him look oh-so-evil.

Who did Shego think she was, coming back as if absolutely nothing had happened? As if their contract and three years meant absolutely nothing?

He supposed, logically, that as villains none of that should mean anything.

But he wanted it to. For once in his miserable life, he didn't want to be betrayed. Was that so much to hope for?

Perhaps he was just less of a villain than she was. After all, technology had proven he was less evil, and now he was thinking of committing fewer violent acts.

He sighed sadly as he pulled off his tank top and approached the mirror to view the two words tattooed boldly over his heart.

'Shego Rocks.'

He was one messed up dude.