#not me thinking i've been hacked *heavy breathing*

[ivypond11]

someone send help discord is being ivyphobic and i can't talk to my friends >:(

[nouearth]

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[themissingnumbers]

WARNING: FLASHING/GLITCHING IMAGE UNDER THE CUT. This also contains descriptions of gore and body horror.

[ @pkmn-monochrome - Previously... ]

Red narrows his eyes as he stares down at Cody, shutting up and listening as they explain. The corners of his lips twitch as they finish, the shadow cast over his eyes falling ever so slightly heavier.

"... So, that's how it is, hm?"

"Barely... any different..."

"... Exactly what I..."

"..."

"I've gotta say, you've really got a way with words! You're so articulate when you're scared, Cody."

He snickers to himself, hopping off the grave and pacing around, looking between the other and the Ghosts.

"Observant, too~! You're right, I really couldn't be bothered to care what you think of me. I'm not exactly here to make friends. I'm sure that'd the last thing you'd want, anyways! See, I'm just here to satiate some curiosity."

He leans in front of Blastoise, tilting his head.

"I would like to formally apologize to the oversized Sobble-in-a-shell for my language. I'm not exactly used to being around others... Twenty-six years of imprisonment wouldn't really teach a guy to have a filter, heh."

He waves a hand nonchalantly, completing the circle.

"And as for your marketable figurine of a rat, well... I'm not interested in being a snotty kid forever. Unfortunately, I don't need any hacking done to screw up my game badly enough to change some things around.

But, hey... I'm not here to make chit-chat with a couple of one-note monsters. It's all about you, the most REAL one in this room. Cody, Cody, Cody, star of the show~! Let's get back to the point. I know you don't exactly think highly of... things like me. What was it you told that one poor girl- 'You've had more than a decade to get over yourself,' right?"

He throws his head back, cackling as if the old remark is the funniest thing he's heard in his life.

"I meant it when I said that I don't CARE. But I AM nosy, and your vitriol towards REDs in particular is just so interesting... Even seein' the face clearly strikes a nerve. So honestly, I'd LOVE to hear EXACTLY what you're thinking..."

"If only you were willing to spit out any fighting words, that is! But you've been so much more polite than I expected, after all the reading I've done..."

He passes by in front of the other, looking off into the distance.

In that moment- a moment of passing footsteps, of the blink of an eye, of a lack of care... something heavy fills the air.

A damning presence looks down on Cody with a dozen eyes, countless mouths, gnashing teeth and twitching claws, two hundred and fifty-five whispering voices. It's a disgusting and shambling creature, a sick and unholy patchwork of amalgamated hearts and yellowed blood, wrapped up in tattered flesh and backwards fur, mismatched feathers and scales and blubber and skin. Writhing, wheezing, bleeding, rotting, every misplaced piece existing out of sync.

Something impossible. Unknowable. Invalid.

The feeling it imposes upon them is suffocating. Like not breathing for years, like something vile filling their lungs, a sickness that is rising, thrashing, tearing, desperate for a taste of "fresh meat" if one could even call a dead trainer that anymore.

"It almost seems like there's something you're worried about," the voices from within it hiss, layered countless times under the casual and teasing tone of Red's own that is lost under the madness...

... Yet the instant the words spill from his lips, that awful sensation is gone as quickly as it arrived. Everything is as it should be. Despite how intense it was... It was little more than two seconds of some sick kind of illusion.

Was it even real? Was that pain all false? Red hasn't lifted a finger, no less even looked Cody's way.

It's as if nothing even happened.

"I wonder, I wonder, what it could be~?" the man babbles on as he walks away, feigning ignorance- because he must be, he must be screwing around with them at this point, right? How could he NOT be?

And now he's laughing- giggling to himself under his breath, like this whole ordeal is some joke that only he's in on.

"After all, I'm just some harmless little video game character. I'm not even real, right?" he chides, "Certainly nothing like one of your big bad players who could crush your shoddy little cartridge cause you decided to be a little bi..."

He trails off, managing to catch himself.

"... Decided to misbehave. What, you don't think I hold any real power over this place, do you~? I can't cause..."

"... Permanent damage."

He slows to a stop several paces away from the monochromatic trainer, spinning on his heel to look at them with a smile that could be described as warm, but...

From heart, to flesh, to grin- there's not a single warm thing about this man in this moment. Only proven further by a final remark, laced with a threatening kind of curiosity.

"So would you like to stop trying to play nice and tell me what you really think of me... Or are you gonna let me get bored?"

[pinkkittysaw]

CHAPTER I

- AT YOUR SERVICE, MY LADY

chapter 2 →

series master-list can be found here!

summary: au where you’re a princess and clive has been appointed as your first shield

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

content: NSFW (minors and ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked!) oral (f!receiving), spit, degradation, power imbalance, slight dub-con (in the beginning), exhibitionism, dirty talk, both you and clive are adults

a/n: happy happy birthday to me!!!! i got the idea to write this last night and decided i would post it as a little treat to myself. ngl i’m addicted to princess x knight or king x maid type stories 😭

dividers by @/saradika

You don’t know what it is about your first shield that strikes you, but lately, it seems he's the only thing consuming your thoughts. Perhaps it was his handsome face, branded with a scar across his cheek. Maybe it was the broadness of his shoulders or how delicious the swell of his chest looked when on display in one of his low-cut shirts. It could be the way he wields his sword in battle, his body moving in a precise and calculated manner as he hacks and slashes. You also had to take his hips into account; the sway while he walked was simply mesmerizing.

To say there was an attraction between the two of you was definitely an understatement. Though relations between nobles and their knights were frowned upon, you couldn't help being drawn to him. What started as minor flirting back and forth developed into palpable sexual tension, so much so that one day, while he was escorting you to the dining hall, you pulled him into a side room.

The sword on his back clangs against the wall as you shove him against it. Your breath heavy as you stare up at him. His face flushes as he chokes out, "My lady." 

It's then that you decide to kiss him, melding his lips with your own. He's taken aback at first but helplessly becomes engrossed in the it, panting into your mouth. 

"I've seen how you look at me, Clive." You pause your assault on his lips.

"The way you stare at my breasts when you think I'm not looking."

He always did his utmost to respect you, but he couldn't deny the allure of your breasts while you wore a corset. So badly did he want to free them from their confines and watch them bounce as he gave you pleasure. 

He's speechless at your accusation, and knowing he can't deny it, he doesn't even try to defend himself, only being able to sputter out "Um's" and "Uh's."

"You're not in trouble, Clive."

"I want you," you whisper into his ear.

He grunts at this, throwing all caution to the wind. He lifts you up by your bum, then carefully lays you on the floor. He's ravenous as he paws at your body, his hands and mouth clinging to every inch of skin they can find. 

There's a sense of urgency now with the yanking and pulling of fabrics. The bust of your dress is tugged down as your breasts bounce free. ‘At long last’ Clive thinks to himself. He gets a hungry look in his eye as he begins to suck and mouth at your tits, groaning against the soft flesh. His hand slides up your leg and into your dress, where he then pulls down your knickers, his fingers making contact with your warm heat for the first time. He positions himself in front of your bent legs, bunching up the hem of your dress over your hips.

Slowly but surely, you spread your legs, exposing your bare self to him.

"Oh, my lady," his mouth is agape as he blatantly stares, "you're absolutely beautiful." His thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of your arousal as he works his way to your clit, coating the nub and rubbing it in soft circles.

"Let me taste you, my lady. It's all that I want."

You let out a whimper, and something in Clive snaps. He pulls you closer by your hips and throws your legs over his shoulder. He plants kisses to your inner thighs, licking the skin before grazing it lightly with his teeth.

"Please," you whine, biting your lip in anticipation.

The first contact his tongue makes with your cunt makes you shudder. His tongue lays flat against you as it drags from your entrance over your folds and to your needy clit. He continues to run his tongue through your folds before giving your clit quick little pecks with his lips, all of which give you a jolt of pleasure, causing you to twitch in his hold. 

"Clive," you grumble, clearly not enjoying his teasing.

"Good things come to those who wait, my lady," He smirks. "Or was the spoiled princess never taught how to have patience?"

Before you can protest, he spits on your cunt, his finger once again making its way between your soaked folds, smearing his salvia all over your clit.

"You just can't wait, can you? It's always now, now, now with you," he mocks.

You begin to writhe against him now, silently begging him to go faster. His arm lays across your navel, preventing you from bucking your hips and taking the sweet pleasure you desire.

His ministrations on your clit pick up in intensity as he speaks once more.

"You like it messy, don’t you, my lady?"

"Who would’ve thought the sweet little princess was so filthy?"

You can't help the moan that escapes you. Your hands make their way to your tits, squeezing at them before tugging on your peaked nipples with ample fingers.

"I wonder what your people would think if they saw you like this, begging your sworn shield to eat you out on the storeroom floor like a depraved whore."

"C-Clive," you pant as you clench around nothing, a familiar heat starting to buildup in your abdomen.

"Yeah, you like that?'

"You like hearing about how filthy you are, my lady?" He smirks once more, clearly amused by the effect his words are having on you.

You were practically begging at this point, a cacophony of pleas tumbling out of your lips, wanting him to just put his mouth back on you and make better use of it instead of spewing filth.

"It’s alright, my lady. Your secret is safe with me."

"You just lay back and relax now," he leans back into your cunt gripping your thighs with his fingers. He kisses around your folds before giving kitten licks to your clit then taking it into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Fuck yes," you whine while tugging him further into your pussy by his hair.

"That’s it."

"Give in to your desire." The sound of his voice is muffled against you. 

You began to buck your hips against his face, rutting your cunt all over his nose and lips, so consumed with your own pleasure. And he let you. The way your face contorted into pleasure as you took what he gave you was enough to make any man believe in the gods. Absolute heaven.

Neither of you can find the means to care as a poor, unsuspecting maid walks in on you, stunned to see the beloved princess with her sworn shield, devouring her sopping cunt like a man starved. 

[brightbeautifulthings]

Katzenjammer by Francesca Zappia

"They're all so dark, Dad said one day, watching over my shoulder as I worked at the kitchen table. Why don't you paint things like a blue sky, or a field of flowers, or a bird flying on a breeze? Something happy that your mom can put on the fridge. She can put these on the fridge, I said. Maybe just one flower? he asked. There are no flowers where I live, I said."

Year Read: 2023

Rating: 4/5

About: Cat has been stuck in School for as long as she can remember. The hallways slowly expand and contract with School's breathing, the showers run red with blood, and the students have divided themselves into changed and unchanged. While the unchanged hide in the fortress of administration, Cat and her friends haunt the courtyard and hallways. Her best friend is turning into cardboard, and Cat's face has become a cat mask made of her own hardened flesh. There are no doors or windows in or out of School, and something is hunting them down one by one in the hallways. To escape, Cat will have to understand why they're trapped in the first place. Trigger warnings: Some triggers are listed at the end of the review because they include spoilers. Character death, guns, violence, blood/gore, dismemberment, body/eye horror, bullying, slut-shaming, vandalism.

Thoughts: Thanks to @ninja-muse for recommending this book, since I'm not sure I would have found it on my own. This is probably my favorite Francesca Zappia novel to date, and one of the best novels on this subject I've ever read (more on that after the spoilers). However, I believe it's best to go into it not knowing much more than the description provides. This book works extremely well as a slow reveal. What starts out as a mindfuck becomes slow understanding as we realize more or less alongside Cat what is happening in School, and you'd be doing yourself a disservice to read the spoilers if you plan to read this. However, it covers a number of very heavy and potentially triggering topics (and it's difficult to gush about how I think it works without giving things away), so I'll include those thoughts at the end. I can't stress it enough though. If you're not easily triggered, stop here and go read this book!

This is also one of the best examples of uncanny horror that I've read in a long time. Zappia expertly manages to capture the quality of a nightmare without sacrificing the continuity. School is creepy and semi-sentient, and the changes it brings about in half the students are a study in body horror. Perhaps even more terrifying are the parallels it draws to some very real life horrors such as bullying and, indeed, I found the flashback chapters of Cat's surfacing memories of her former life of being targeted, bullied, and slut-shamed at school more difficult to get through than the surreal scenes of hacked up bodies or bloody showers in School. Real life horror always affects me a lot more than the supernatural, and Katzenjammer does an excellent job of balancing both. The ending is cathartic and effective, and there's less of a plot twist than a sort of inevitable, dawning horror-- which is honestly the best kind.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Remember how I said that real life horror is always worse than the supernatural or the uncanny? I stand by that statement. Zappia draws such excellent parallels to real life in her uncanny School that it's almost impossible not to realize before Cat does that the traumatic event that put them there was a school shooting. I've read a couple YA novels that handled the subject fine, but I don't think any of them capture it as well as this one. We need something like the supernatural School and the horror of bodies changing in ways we can't explain to fully grasp the senseless horror of gun violence. Killing children makes no more sense than hallways that breathe or girls who turn into their cat masks. It takes Cat the entire novel to understand the horror and absurdity of what's been done to her and to accept it-- that there are reasons but not excuses, and that we will never know all of them. I cried a little at the end, but I think the real life horror of it is too big for tears. Instead, it's a feeling that will sit with me long after I've turned the last page.

[the-belle-siblings]

Caden, go now, show off your mad cool fit to Ivan!

Okay! Okay... here goes...

Caden sucks in a deep breath and then opens the door to Ivan and Misra's home - pretty much his new home.

I HAVE RETURNED

🗿*Ivan walks out of his room and into the living room where Caden is standing. He rubs his eyes a little as if he just woke up from a nap. Ivan yawns, maybe he did just wake up?* Milk toast is sleeping be quie-

🗿'He looks... great. This is where you give people compliments! Tell him he looks nice or something.'

🗿What are you wearing?

🗿'Dammit! It's fine just smooth it over, this is salvageable tell him it looks GOOD!'

🗿'cause it looks alright I guess...

🗿'he's gonna think I hate it....'

You think so? It's honestly pretty comfy, wanna feel?

Caden holds out his sleeve with a grin.

🗿Sure. *He feels the fabric of the sleeve.*

🗿'Wow.. that feels pretty nice. I expected it to feel kinda gross on my fingertips but... it's'

🗿I mean it's alright, I've felt softer.

You have?? What was it?

🗿'Ah shit now I've gotta lie or I'll sound really weird.'

🗿your hair *Ivan actually face palms now*

My..?

It's not easy to see when an abyssal black creature blushes but Ivan could have sworn he saw some sort of faint redness on Caden's face. And he was right, Caden felt like his cheeks were set on fire and his heart pounded in his chest.

🗿just.. kidding?

Since when did you do that?!

🗿uh since always

Nuh uh! You've never been funny!

🗿rude

Says you.

🗿Well at least I'm not a complete and utter idiot!

Well at least I don't have to make up for what I lack through disapproving of others joy!

🗿Fuck off, you loud annoying twit! Nobody has ever even wanted you here! *He clasps a hand over his mouth and bites his lip until he can taste blood.*

I–

Caden's chest hurts, it feels heavy. Suddenly he's gasping for air to no avail. It's like ever fear had swollen up and gotten stuck in his throat. He tries to cough and cough and... he can't do it. He can't breathe.

🗿*He drops the hand from his mouth.* Caden I- I didn't mean it- you're right I- ...Caden?

Caden is hitting himself in the chest, trying to loosen the petals in some kind of way. He then suddenly recalls the universal sign for choking. He assumed doing it would get his point across.

🗿Oh hell- *Ivan goes over to Caden and hits him on the back a few times and then preforms the heimlich maneuver. After some effort Caden is coughing again.*

Caden ends up practically hacking up a donation to red cross and a botanical garden on the floor. He's shaking from the experience, his arms reflexively holding himself.

I'm fine.. I'm fine.. I'm fine...

He repeat mutters through a scratchy and sore throat.

🗿no.. no you're not. *A certain feeling, a newer one he'd only recently labeled as guilt, digs deep into his heart in an unsettling fashion. He can't stop himself, and would rather not stop himself, from hugging Caden. He hadn't done this to anyone other than Misra since he was about 9. But he tried to comfort him, knowing how much of it he caused.*

🗿I'm sorry, Caden... You dug at a sore spot but I still lashed out disproportionately and... I like having you around. I just... I was being cruel. I don't... I don't like being cruel to you I just don't know how to be nice and- it's not your fault. I shouldn't be coming up with excuses, I'm sorry. You have every right to be mad at me and-

..stop.. please just stop it... it doesn't matter if you don't but I really- clears throat - I really care about you. If you want to- If you just wanna use me for my power, that's fine. I'd just ra- clears throat -rather you stop playing make believe and messing with my head...

🗿That's not what I-...

🗿'I guess that's what it looks like. I mean I tell myself that's all I want from him, right? I just keep saying all I want is his power but... I don't care. I genuinely... I genuinely enjoy doing stuff with him and listening to him blabber before he goes to sleep. I like when he sits next to me like it's the expected usual. I like it when he smiles. I like it when he announces himself loudly. I like him. I like him even when he's doing something stupid or kinda gross. I find it endearing even! I've been describing him as tolerable as some sort of cope... it's as if my body reacts to the almost certain rejection by rejecting it all in turn. I hate it but... being kind feels so new and foreign on my tongue I don't... I don't know how. If only, If only he just knew...'

🗿Caden I'm not trying to play with your head or- or use you anymore I just- I happen to- yes, I happen to find enjoyment in your companionship and I... have never really felt that way around someone before...

You've... you've never had a friend before?

🗿No, none like you. None I felt I could be myself around. I apologize deeply for mistreating you I just.. I feel so vulnerable.. I hate it.

Well... I'm not here to take advantage of you when you least expect it. Let's just... put this behind us, okay?

🗿alright... You-... you look rather dashing by the way.

Ha! Thanks! You look good too.

🗿But I haven't changed a thing–?

I know. Uh- anyways! Do you wanna go watch-

🗿*Ivan nods quickly and drags Caden off to his room to watch MLP Our Miniature Horses. His chest didn't feel right, his heart rate felt off but.. he didn’t hate it. Then there was that feverish heat in his cheeks following the compliment... oh no... It's true... he really is falling in love.*

[sanzusfavcndom]

I'm too used to cutting my fingers on my own broken pieces.

Too used to putting myself back together.

Healing myself while supporting others.

I'm drowning in me, I am viscous.

I'm smoothly thick and hard to breathe in.

I feel heavy in your lungs and come out congealed as mucus.

I'm hacking at myself like overgrown weeds to find the wounds to nurse.

Find what's festering to see what can be salvaged.

I'm looking at myself through vacant eyes. My pain is blinding.

My pain is making mountains mole hills and mole hills the mountain range.

I am tiny in this landscape, a drop of rain in the river, the river to the lake, a lake to the sea, the sea to the ocean.

I am Pluto, I am ignored and freezing. I've been made less by those who I thought saw the best in me.

I've grown used to being small, cold, volatile.

Words vomit from my mouth but never the growing pain, the suffering.

I'm a shell. I'm empty. I'm tired. I don't know myself. I don't know anything other than my crippling overwhelm of emotions I try to bury, and the entirety of empty.

I am overflowing with empty, so much so I'm overwhelmed with my brain.

Overwhelmed with making a future I never thought I'd be in. I don't want to be here.

But I'm here, laying at rock-bottom staring at my own reflection, reaching through waves to pull me out. And I don't want to leave.

I don't think I want to be better anymore.

[coffee-writesthings]

Heyyy so you inspired me and I couldn't sleep when I saw it so i spent the last couple days working on this ficlet, using this as a prompt.

Word Count: 1173

MediSpy if you squint, but I think its mostly rly platonic here. Also DadSpy, also if you squint

Spy was grateful for the door to Medic's office being constantly open, it was the only way he'd be able to get in without putting down the body of an enemy Soldier. It somehow seemed like that would be more disrespectful than why he had the man's corpse in the first place.

Battle had ended not long ago at all, he really just picked this stab out during the punishment round. He could at least be happy that his team won, and were all saved from an added trip to Respawn.

Usually, at a time like this, he would be found in his smoking room, trying to drown his sorrows and fears. Not today though. Today, he was going to try something new. He would talk, about nothing in particular, with one of his teammates.

The Medic didn't seem to notice him in the room, instead opting to scurry around the office messing with his equipment. He seemed to be cleaning his weapons, specifically. Was he taking notes on them?

The silence wasn't going to get any tenser, it felt like a thread, pulled so taut that he could just tap it with his knife to separate it. His proverbial knife, he cleared his throat.

Immediately, the other looked up from his muttering. "Oh! Spy, good day to you." He crossed the room, closing the distance between each of them quickly, "And you come bearing gifts, they are much appreciated." He grinned, showing his teeth.

Looking at those teeth, a sense of danger enveloped Spy's mind. He'd seen Medic hack live men to pieces with his bonesaw. He'd seen his face splattered with blood. He'd heard him cackle in such glee as he popped Ubercharge so that any one of the team's heavy hitters could obliterate the enemy engineer's nest.

He had also seen him make little outfits for his doves. He'd heard all the congratulations he gave to his team at the end of a round, even when it went badly. He'd caught him in the middle of wrapping gifts for Smissmass, each one specially picked out for each teammate.

He wasn't in any danger right now, he was talking to a friend. A murderous, mildly blood-lusting friend, but it wasn't for his blood. He could let his guard down a little.

"Can you replace my lungs?"

Or not... He mentally face-palmed.

"I thought I did that for you only two weeks ago! Are you sure you need replacements already?" Medic asked

"I've.. I've been stressed lately." he supplied, "More than usual." He just had to hope that he'd assume what he wanted him to, and ask nothing.

"Hardly a reason for-- Ohhh. Oh. You've been smoking more, you mean?"

"Yes." He brought a hand to the back of his neck, an action he hadn't really meant to do. He couldn't just stop the action, it would draw attention to it! He cleared his throat again, trying to clear the tension in his own mind.

"Hmm, well you know how I feel about the smoking-- you really should try to stop, or reduce it. But if you'd like, I can check them. First, do you want to talk about it?"

'Like a deer in headlights' wasn't a phrase he never really understood until this point, until he was the deer. "It's... well, it's not nothing. If you'll forgive the lie, I didn't really need my lungs changed out. Though I was telling the truth about my being stressed." He felt like a child, mentally dressing himself down to something vulnerable, something weak.

"Why don't you give that to me-- and come into my office, you won't have to stand carrying a corpse that way."

"Yes. Thank you."

Medic walked with a sort of swagger, whistling in tune with his movements. Somehow, he didn't seem at all encumbered by the weight of the Soldier in his arms. It impressed him just how strong he was.

He kept his breath steady, there was no use in being anxious at a time like this. In, and out. In, and out.

The office itself was modest. Relatively small in size, with a desk and two chairs on either side of it. Paintings and other drawings were put up on the walls, some from Pyro and others seeming to be from every other member of the team. Some sketches from Scout, he always did have an eye for that sort of thing. Engineer's paintings of the base, or sights that could be seen from it. Sniper had a few pieces up there too, incredibly realistic renditions of members of the team.

It filled his heart how much everyone really did seem to care about each other here.

"So," Medic said, breaking the silence. "What do you want to talk about?"

"It's just... It's getting to the time of the year that I miss my wife. I had to leave her in order to come here."

"Oh, that is definitely unfortunate. Have you had to handle this before?"

"Of course I have, though not in ways that would normally be considered 'healthy'." he absentmindedly tried to reach for the cigarette case in his breast pocket. Talking about this really was harder than he thought it would be, he groaned inwardly.

"Do stop me if this is too invasive, but what sorts of methods?"

He scoffed, "Well usually it involves a stiff drink and a night on my own, spent in the purgatory between wanting to meet my son and the much-preferred ripping my own eyes out."

"What if, instead of that, you spent some more time with me? I understand that the rest of the team may be a little... overwhelming, for you. But, at least as far as I'm aware, I'm not as much overwhelming. I could bring over some of my puzzles, or find a movie to put on, I might have some french literature lying around..." he trailed off.

"That sounds delightful. Thank you."

A beat, neither of them quite know what to say, but Spy is trying to figure out whether to ask this question.

"And you're sure that none of this would put you out? I wouldn't want to get in the way of whatever you already had planned."

He waved his hands, dispersing the worries, "No, definitely not. I care about you, and I will not see you worrying about me while I am taking care of you. If you want, you can make it up for me by getting me sent to Respawn less. Aside from that, do not worry."

For the rest of that night, the two played various board games. Medic had quite the collection of fun ones, and they both had a great vocabulary to play Scrabble, especially.

Over the next several weeks, Medic barely died a few times per match. The few times he had died, Spy viciously chased down the enemy and stabbed them in the back, while looking directly into their eyes. He hoped it would haunt their memories whenever they got back to Respawn.

I have a head cannon for spy and medic: I think spy brings bodies to medic so he can replace his lungs with them. I mean spy is a chain smoker what do you think 🧌

Yeah, I can totally see Spy, being in desperate need of a new pair of lungs every so often, and Medic all to willing to help out a friend.

But! I can also see Spy, who is totally fine, no lung issues what so ever, going to the lab with a fresh corpse and telling Medic he needs new lungs, just to spend time with him.

[heich0e]

under the weather touya todoroki/f!reader (BNHA) tags: man being an idiot (what else is new), clingy touya, domesticity, fluff, light angst

You're starting to think that Touya Todoroki never learned the nuance of figurative language.

Namely, because while the expression may be 'when one door closes, another door opens' it doesn't mean that's literally the case.

And it certainly doesn't mean he should be crawling through your window just because your front door was locked.

"What are you doing here, Touya?"

You flick the overhead light of your living room on just in time to catch his ungraceful roll through your open window, squinting against the sudden wash of brightness that fills the space when your eyes are still adjusted to the darkness of slumber.

Touya is hunched on the floor by your living room window, having evidently climbed the fire escape (ironic) to break in--as he so often does.

He says nothing, not even a characteristically taunting reply like you'd expect, his breaths coming heavy and rasping as he clutches at his ribs. You watch as he slumps back against the wall beneath your window frame, the soles of his filthy, tattered boots facing you as his legs stretch out before him limply.

"Hey," your next words are softer, more concerned than your first had been. "You alright?"

It's not the first time he's showed up in your apartment in the dead of night after a particularly nasty scrap.

But it is the first time he's ever failed to correct you for using his given name.

The one he refuses to acknowledge.

The one you refuse to give up.

"I think I got hit by a quirk 'r somethin'" he mumbles, forcing his chin up (though it seems to take a lot of effort) to meet your gaze. His usually clear blue eyes are bloodshot and bleary.

You rush to his side.

"Where are you hurt?" you ask, falling to your knees before him as your eyes scan his frame. He's not bleeding as far as you can tell, but he seems to be trembling.

"My head feels like someone's tryna juice it," he groans, running one hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. His palm comes out stained inky black--the cheap dye he uses, you realize quickly--and his hair remains slicked back where he'd traced through it.

He's sweating.

A lot.

"What kind of quirk was it?" you ask, a little panicked, helping him pull off his grody old jacket. You shuck it roughly down his shoulders to reveal the t-shirt he wears beneath, you see how the worn-thin cotton is clinging to his damp skin.

"Dunno, someone musta hit me when I wasn' lookin'. Been feelin' like shit all day but s'getting worse."

He hisses as you unlace his boots and pull them off his feet. There's a hole in the toe of his right sock, and his left isn't faring much better.

"Where's it hurt most, Tou?" you say gently, kneeling between his parted legs and watching the way his eyes go unfocused as he struggles to maintain eye contact with you.

"'vrywhere," he slurs. "All over."

He slumps forward, clammy forehead landing in the crook of your neck.

You freeze.

"You're hot."

He chuckles, but it's raspy and feeble.

"Know that babe, but thanks for the r'minder."

Well, at least he isn't so close to death he can't manage at least a bit of smarm.

"No, dumbass, you're burning up. Even more than usual," you say, almost more to yourself than to him, pushing his body off of you to hold him at arms' length. You press the back of your palm to his forehead, but your hands are too adjusted to the heat of his body to accurately tell if he's warmer than he should be.

A standard thermometer won't work on him. The average person doesn't know the exact temperature his body normally runs at.

You're the only one who can tell that something isn't right.

You lean forward and press your lips just above his brow instead.

You linger there for a moment before pulling away, both of you going quiet.

"Touya, I think you're sick."

"Sick?" he says it like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "I've never gotten sick in m' life."

He hacks out a cough a moment later.

You deflate a little. The immediate rush of adrenaline at the possibility of him being seriously injured lessens.

"I'm dyin', doll," he says, head lolling to the side pathetically.

"You have a cold," you correct him. "Have you been taking care of yourself?"

He gives you a weak look.

Right. Stupid question.

"C'mon," you say with a resigned sigh, looping one of his thin arms over your shoulder.

"Where're we goin'?" he asks.

"Well, unless you feel like sleeping on the floor, I'm taking you to bed."

"Y'know I like a girl who knows what she wants."

You roll your eyes, heaving him up to his feet along with you as you stand.

"Shut up Touya, or I'll leave you here to rot."

It's no easy feat helping the feverish boy stagger into your bedroom--practically dead weight as he leans into your side, deceptively heavy for someone so waifishly thin--but somehow you accomplish it. You push his teetering frame back onto your bed, where he falls like a pile of bricks into the unmade tangle of blankets you'd only just dragged yourself out of at the sound of his impromptu break-in.

Next, you set to work peeling off the layers of his clothes until he's left in just his underwear.

Touya had either lost the strength to be cheeky along the way, or realized you'd stop helping him if he pushed you any further, because he stays mercifully quiet as you go about getting him ready for bed. You pull out a change of clothes you keep on hand for him--a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt for a band you used to love.

You decide to forgo the shirt when you realize he'll likely just sweat through it.

You retrieve supplies next: a damp wash cloth to try and cool down his blisteringly hot skin, a cold compress for his head, some medication, and a glass of water.

Touya's eyes are closed when you re-enter your bedroom.

You tap his cheek with your index finger as you stand next to your bed.

He cracks one eye to peer up at you.

"Open up," you say, fishing four tablets from the bottle in your hands.

Touya burns through medication faster than the average person--something you'd learned on the many nights you'd spent tending to his cuts and bruises while he chewed through painkillers like candy. His elevated body temperature was also the most likely explanation for why he'd never before fallen ill.

Touya's lips part just enough for you to press the pills onto his tongue. He swallows hard after you pull your fingers back.

"You know, it'd be pretty easy for me to poison you one of these nights," you say lightly as you bring the glass of water to his lips, a gentle hand cradling behind his head to help him tip forward so he doesn't choke.

He drains half the glass of water in a matter of sips, like he hasn't had anything to drink in days.

"Don't go getting any ideas," he says dryly as he settles back into your pillows, his blue eyes fluttering closed once more.

You place the cold compress on his forehead, setting to work wiping his skin with the cloth you'd brought. It comes away from his skin grimy.

You sigh.

"So where've you been lately?" you ask, dabbing at the skin of his collar where unearthly pallor meets steel staples.

"Around."

You bite your tongue, quelling your desire to be angry. You're angry all the time, but right now you know it won't do either of you any good.

"You haven't come to see me in a while."

"Been busy," he rasps out, punctuating the evasive response with a cough. "And 'm pretty sure last time I left you told me not to come back."

"I always tell you that," you say quietly, your hand and the cloth pausing as they rest atop his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. "It's never stopped you before."

Your eyes flicker up to his face, only to find him looking at you from under heavy lids. You stay like that for a moment, eyes locked, your hand above his heart.

"You should rest." You stand from your perch on the edge of your mattress, collecting the pill bottle, dirty cloth and half-empty glass which you plan to refill.

As you move to step away, a tug at the hem of your top stops you. You look down and see Touya's fingers twisted into the material of your sleep shirt, his arm stretching up from the bed to keep you still.

You glance at him questioningly.

"Thanks," he says quietly, but his eyes are closed.

Your long-forsaken heart falters in your chest.

"You never say thank you," you say, surprised.

"Always feel it, though."

Part 2

[fluffypotatey]

watching Leverage: ep 8

I GOT ME GRAPE FANTA 😎 WE SPLURGING TONIGHT 😚

Pre-game show:

ok so i think i've got it figured out on who i'd be besties with from this show this is of course unrelated to the previous episode. also, let me know which of the crew i'd be besties with! i only know these guys for 7 episodes and y'all have all the 5 seasons, so 1st impressions and after some development?

nathan wouldn't trust me (obvi as i am young and inexperienced with heisting but i am a good strategist! so that should count for something) but eventually, he'd adopt me as one of his heist children

sophie would adopt me on the spot i just know it

alec and i would be besties. maybe i would feel a little intimidated by his hacking skills at first, but he'd be very welcoming and i would laugh at his jokes so yeah

i would be way too intimidated to be near eliot alone just because i feel like he has that aura of "don't talk to me"

unfortunately i don't think parker and i would start off well because i tend to be too polite and not say what i mean and she's a very blunt person

but anyway

it is really weird how they've listed the episodes because the last one being ep7 is super confusing for the continuity. if you watched the horse job before the wedding job like me, it makes no sense for alec to not know who eliot's "girl" was. however, if the wedding job was set before the horse job THAT MAKES SENSE!

SO WHY ARE THE EPISODES LISTED OUT OF ORDER???? WHY DID YOU SCREW WITH THE CONTINUITY LIKE THAT????

also it makes so much more sense that an ep3 nathan would be a little perturbed by heisting the mob and feel a little bitter about marriages because we're just getting to know him!!! it makes no sense for him to be bitter like that at ep7. not after the fucking bank shot job where we see him so soft for sophie???? ugh

this episode, we are watching *checks notes* The Mile High Job, spoilers for the episode will be followed under the cut (obvi 😗)

My Mile High Reaction (not sponsored by grape fanta)

oh dear, this ep is gonna be heavy

they blamed a child's death on her pre-existing conditions???? conditions unrelated to the side effects their fertilizers gives???? oh boy, i am getting pissed and they aren't even real but oh man i wanna hit something

oh they hiding evidence??? that would be important to the case??? corporation sir that's illegale. no that's literally illegal. anything you hold that's important to the case the other side needs to have as well. that's literally *breathes* i will...persevere :)

sophie: not speaking english the security guards: speaking english trying to understand her

to be fair! i am also that dumb

oh so both of them are just gonna hop away from the desk, okay then, keep it together my god lmao

ok i know they're trying to steal the information that the prosecuting team needs (the couple is prosecuting right? i'm assuming bc they have the burden of proof) but i'm worried bc there's a "doctrine of the poisoned apple" that basically means that any info gathered illegally cannot be used in court no matter how integral it is

i am curious to see if they bring up this little doctrine or ignore it (i'd be find with either tbh)

????

what happened with alec???? why does nathan not want them speaking about him???

shit this is a continuity thing huh

ALEC THANK GOODNESS

baby, did you...did you put a whole ass hot pocket in the microwave with no plate??? not even a paper towel??? and you grabbed it??? with your bare hands, dear lord

get a paper towel. sir, i'm embarrassed

*sighs* this was originally episode 4 wasn't it? alec and the crew not being as smooth, alec missing that they had a mission that day and fumbling to help them,

ok so i'm a little annoyed about how the episodes are listed and how janky they are continuity -wise

oh no the crew is about to be caught and this could have been avoided if the guy at the chair was more present in meeting! she says with a straight face. how ever will they get out of this one

yes, mister corporate evil man sir, please tell us everything about how you plan to tank the court case on a phone call where you're not even trying to keep quiet

i love you parker. how did she evade getting caught and exit the room before nathan and eliot? no one knows! but we all fucking love her for it!

"ok i got two for first class" nathan, sweetheart, he didn't even hesitate "ok sophie and i'll take those" yeah, yeah, ok sir, okay

ALEC BRO WITH A STRAIGHT FACE awww newlyweds

eliot....eliot, my dude, where, how???? WHEN? air marshal???? WHOMST???? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE FU

omfg alec i love your customer service voice. perfection lmao

awwww she loves fidget so much (that's an adorable name btw the kitty's so cute i wanna nuzzle!)

lmao eliot that flip was so extra, you just needed to stumble my dude

SOPHIE

NATHAN'S SO FLUSTERED HELP

"cuffs are his, wips mind" bro you should be so glad i wasn't drinking right bc i would have choked fr

ELIOT DEARY YOU SOUND LIKE A TEENAGER WHO GOT DRAGGED ALONG THIS TRIP "idiot," he says like sophie's his step mom and he's so embarrassed that he has now learned more info about his dad's sex life than he needed to

alec <3 i love him so much

parker i love you but you almost got punched (not your fault, you didn't know the lady was touchy about the promotion comment)

OH THEY FAKE DATING!! FAKE MARRIAGE

oooooooh nathan you in deep shit

oh man my brother would hate parker as a flight attendant

the pilot does not sound that clear on the intercom, leverage! really you hear more static than the pilot and it's way too loud and everyone just nods like they understood

mood eliot

madam, if parker said there's a system, then there's a system! do not mess with it!!! ma'am it ain't that hard to wait. if you really feel queasy, the bathroom is right behind you

ALEC MY BOY

yeah ok he could speak spanish to me all day. he sounds like a man who's so happy about his job! alec, you making me fall for your persona

lmao for a second i though the guard was going to look at the camera

"hey is there room in [the elevator that alec is making sure to take up every bit of space]" alec: idk bro you tell me

i know i say this so much but....alec i love you

"i bet you think we all look alike" I CAN'T BREATHE HELP I CAN'T I LOVE HIM

NOT THE SENSITIVITY SEMINARS

I CAN'T BREATHE

wait what are the playing on the plane? there's a movie playing. it looks western. eliot what are you watching????

yes eliot, let's just rummage through all the carry on bags. that's not suspicious

i mean.....parker's got a point. dying on a plane is pretty low. more people die in car crashes, but people feel more confident driving than flying

can't tell if that help the lady or not, but parker's delivery was hilarious either way

hands off sir that's a married woman! a fake married woman but still!

oop trouble in paradise

alec <3333333 my tall WoW geek, he's found his people

back the FUCK up nathan 🔪 leave him alone!

his little smile when he said "the meeting's starting!"

oh that better be fake alec!

oh thank goodness

lmao of course the accountant is the one who wanted ginger ale

nathan, sweetie, sweetheart, deary, pumpkin, gumdrop......you are so bad at pretending to be mad at sophie you whipped son of a bitch

OH????? THE ASSET IS THE ACCOUNTANT!!!! HAHAHAHA YOU HAVE TO SAVE HER NOW PARKER LMAO

so sorry but i was distracted (by eliot's voice) for a little bit but we good now

aww parker got her ginger ale to soothe her anxiety (didn't help but it's the thought that counts)

poor steve (derogatory)

i love cheryl. i'd die for her

oh shit he got a knife!

FUCK HIM UP ELIOT

you're gonna leave the knife in there??? with the unconscious hitman??? what if he wakes up what then?

oof you're gonna go that route? after 9/11??? ok then

good, good eliot got the knife

honestly i feel bad for that flight attendant. this must be one her worst days on the job

oh they got a countdown!

oh dear they cutting close on time

just curious: was there a content warning that was placed just before this episode aired? i know this show came out in 2008 but 9/11 was still fresh in people's minds. so to air an episode where a plane gets hijacked to crash, i feel like there was a warning placed for viewer discretion.

NOOOOO ALEC BABY HE SOUNDS SO DEFEATED :( HE THINKS HE'S GONNA LOSE THEM T^T HIS NEW FAMILY NOBODY TOUCH ME

HOW HIS VOICE CRACKS WHEN HE REALIZES HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND HE IS HELPLESS TO THEM NO

ohhhhh stressedstressedstressedstressedstressedstressedstress

AH OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOKOOOK

THEY GONNA LAND ON THE HIGHWAY

THEY DID IT

ok but is alec still in the boss's office? or is he back a HQ? how had no one found him? oh dear wait

ok nvm we got comedy all good

fuck off steve

aww we got soft sophie/nathan

haha she still won. love her

General thoughts

ok i have no clue why the episodes are mixed up like that because this episode feels like an ep4. it's just after the wedding job and the team isn't as solid yet. tbh this could even work before the wedding job but i wanna say no bc nathan was too up his ass in that one.

alec, my boy, you shined beautifully in this. i don't care if he wasn't the best team player! this was his episode and i loved it. i love that we got to see him geek out about video games and even about coding stuff that only he understands. i like how he is such a great people person! alec just met cheryl and yet he knows exactly how to work with her and make her believe he has worked at this place since forever. and maybe i'm hoping that he found her on WoW and they became internet besties

anyway, good episode, i enjoyed it. i laughed, almost cried, got stressed toward the end but all turned out well!

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake: kassy & nick. / verse: all american.

     he tells her its okay and she so desperately wishes to believe him, swallowing thickly as she looks at him with large, fearful dark eyes, nodding along as he assured her that he would stop this, make whoever this creepy bastard was go away. her jaw clenched and she took his hand immediately as he reached for her. "they---they're to my cell phone but the number, i know it, it's the number someone would call to ask for entrance into the building, the buzzer number you and everyone calls. but the times they've called..." she shook her head with a shrug as she looked up at him again, a small frown marring her face. "no one ever says anything, the first time i thought it was an accident or..." she shrugged. "then it happened again... it's happened like maybe five times? and it's just.." she paused now, feeling nauseous as she connected the calls to the picture. "just heavy breathing..."

     she winced, looking down as her skin crawled, hand squeezing nicks tighter before releasing it and hugging herself. "i thought it was a prank... by the fifth call i just hung up immediately. i didn't think..." she shook her head, hair falling free from behind her ear before nick gently tucked it back in place. at the mention to stay away from the cafe her frown deepened but she understood. she hated that she had to stop living her life the way she wanted because of this fucking creep. looking back at nick, she bit her lip. "...i think it might be a client," she then said quietly. "it would explain the note..." she felt ill, insides queasy as she tried not to think about what threat the note held. "someone pretending... but i don't post any information about where the fuck i live..." she exhaled shakily, rising from her seat as she shook her hands at her side, anxiety grabbing hold of her.

     "i don't share any personal information on there, and they've never seen anything but like, my bedroom---but even then, it's blurred. you think someone might.. have like.. hacked my account?" her mind was spinning out with possible ways this could happen as she began pacing. "what if he.. what if he knows i'm here now? I can't go to octavia's.. if i go there and he follows me? or.." she shook her head, breathing tight as her hands flexed at her sides, head shaking. "what the fuck," she hissed, hating the way her eyes stung. "i can't just hide somewhere, i have classes to go to! you think he could follow me there? or he already fucking has? and how many other fucking pictures of me did he take.." she shook her head, turning to nick, "recently, i've been feeling... i mean, i had dismissed it as nothing, as just... you know, a leftover feeling from the kidnapping but... i've been feeling like i've been... watched recently. i thought it was nothing but..."

@thewholecrew: kassy & nicklas.

she's not speaking right away and that sends a shock through his system. between the way her leg bounced and how she focused on her bag instead of him had fear trickling through him. something's happened, it has to have because this isn't kassy. slowly, much like he always does when she's feeling that panic the kidnapping has left her with overtake, he reaches towards her. gently, his hand rests on her knee, head tilting as he waits for her to meet his gaze and tell him what's going on but then she's pulling out some papers and a photo. his brows furrowed, hand lifting from her knee to the papers she offers as he takes them, drawing them closer as crystal hues rake over the disgusting note. he reads it once, then twice, trading it for the photo then another note before eyes lift to her, as she explains what's been happening.

the more kassy speaks, the faster his thoughts race. someone's watching her. clearly very closely and they have been for months. wrath darkens his gaze because whoever this twisted person is, they've gotten close enough to kassy beneath all their noses. " hey...hey hey, kass, it's okay, " he assured her as she admitted her fear. he quickly shifted from sitting in front of her to the couch beside her, placing her evidence beside him. " we're going to protect you all right? i'll make this go away. i promise you, whoever's doing this shit...i'll end it. " he promised as he reached for her hand. he doesn't admit that the vulgar note sends an itch of panic across his skin. that the way this person knows intimate details of her life concerns him.

" tell me about these calls, they to your cell? " he asked, needing as much information as she had about this stalker before he relaid all that he had to grant and rev. his head tilted towards the photo again, eyes narrowing at the coffee shop. " this is across the street isn't it, that one with the overpriced coffee..." his finger slid a note out of the way to get a better glance at the picture of kassy studying. " i don't want you to go back there right now...not without one of us, okay, kass? " nick pulled his eyes away from the photo, looking at kass as he gently tucked pieces of her hair back to get a better look at her face. " just for a few days while we check out your building spend a couple nights with rev or o, you can even stay with me, i just wanna get a look at things before you go back to your home... "

[coonhoundcat]

This, the Hill | Part 3 | Villain x Hero

@wolfeyedwitch -Whoopsies. It called me. Beckoned me. Have a third part now. ^^' -

@cuddlycryptid -Also, you are awesome. You made my day, THANK YOU-

Part 1 | Part 2

"You... you're back?"

"Of course. I promised. And I figure if you're going to make taking care of you a battle, you ought to have a worthy opponent." Hero took a seat at the table, setting a full tray in front of Villain just a little too enthusiastically. A bit of juice couldn't hurt the plastic surface, anyway. "I'm not entirely sure about the 'worthy' thing, but I've got the experience for the role, certainly."

Hero grinned expectantly.

Villain frowned. "I.... thank you?" They glanced at the overfull display, looking vaguely ill. "... You know I can't use my arms....?"

"Oh, yeah-- they won't let me take the straight jacket off. We're doing this the fun way." They snatched a plastic spoon from the tray, spinning it in their fingers. "Because I care."

---

"You're really going to make this a regular thing?"

"Every day, if I have to."

"I think you just like shoving things down my throat."

Hero hummed noncommittally.

After a moment, Villain grew serious. "Hero, Supervillain-"

"Have you been taking your medicine?"

"I-I...... yes?"

Hero looked disappointed. "I see. I guess we will be doing this every day, then."

"I'm not-"

Hero raised a hand, shaking their head lightly. "We're just trying to help, Villain. You have to let us."

".... I'm trying."

---

"Hit me."

"No."

"I said, HIT ME."

"Absolutely NOT. You already have a BUST-- you've LOST. You can't just keep adding cards!"

"On the contrary, we are no longer playing Black Jack. This is now a game of high scores. Hit me."

"Like HELL it is! Just accept that you lost!"

---

"How does it feel?"

Villain rolled up their other sleeve, stretching their shoulders with a satisfying pop. "Like freedom." They glanced at the pale walls, the same old white table. "Or at least part of it." They sighed, long and heavy.

Hero's voice cut in, suddenly dark. "Those new?"

Villain glanced down at the purple and black decorating the length of their forearm. ".... Yes... well. You... know how it is."

"You can talk to me."

"It's Su-" They hissed out an angry breath. "-It's hard to talk about. I'm getting through it."

"... Okay. I'll be here. If you need me."

---

"You know, I think I do miss shoving things down your throat."

Villain sputtered, nearly dropping their glass as they started hacking up cranberry juice. "The HELL-"

They gasped, slamming their cup on the table and taking in the damage. Red stained the front of their white hospital shirt. "What was THAT? Fuck-" Villain rubbed vigorously at the fabric, suddenly aware of how much the crimson looked like blood. "God- sorry-"

"No! No- it's my bad!" Hero was straight up crying, a hand pressed uselessly to their mouth. It shouldn't be that hilarious, but, well. "Just- Just take it off. C'mon-- we're all friends, here."

Hero watched their eyes widen-- like they realized they could-- and they reached for the hem, still laughing.

Hero kicked their chair back, unclasping their cape and bundling in their arms as they moved to stand by the villain, waiting as they peeled their shirt up and over their ears.

Their whole body might as well have been a bruise. Cuts and scrapes, blues, purples, greens-- they wouldn't have even noticed it, but- the yellow circles. Four of them, marked clear against the collar bone. Impossible to achieve, at that angle- Hero stepped up behind them, and reached out, cupping the shoulder, fingers curling over just shy of the marks-

"STOP!" Villain slammed forward into the table, thrusting their head down into their arms, practically heaving. Shivering, badly. "Please, I'll be good, I'll-"

Hero recoiled, snatching their hand away from the bare skin. "Is.... one of the technicians... doing something to you?" Difficult, keeping the horrified outrage out of their voice. Judging by Villain's whimper, they did not succeed.

"I-I...... it...." they choked, hands pressing up and over their head.

Hero laid their cape out around their shoulders, circling the table to face them.

"It-it's-"

"Look at me, Villain, c'mon-"

Hero rested a hand on their cold, dry skin, lightening up when a shudder drew Villain's hands into fists.

"Villain-"

Slowly, hesitantly, they complied, peering up from the table with hollow, bloodshot eyes. They took a wheezing breath in. "I did it. To myself."

"Villain."

Their fingers tightened around the frail wrist, almost subconsciously. "Last I checked, you're not a contortionist. Now, unless you have a new power you want to tell me about-- who?"

"You wouldn't- You won't-"

"Who?" Hero ignored the tears streaming down Villain's face. They needed a goddamn answer.

"Su... Supervillain-"

"Fucking hell-"

"I'm sorry-"

"Look at me-- Supervillain is not here." Hero shoved off from the table, hands running viciously through their hair. "They haven't been in the city since the two of us took them down. Don't you remember that? Can't you-" Their arms dropped to their side. ".... No- I'm sorry. Of course you can't. I just-" Suddenly, they understood the appeal of slamming one's head into the wall. "You can't help it."

The hero collapsed into their chair, exhausted. They stared into those wide, perpetually terrified eyes-- shame was not a good look, but it was one they both shared now. "I'm taking time off night patrols. We're going to figure this out, Villain. I'm going to help you. I promise."

---

Headquarters fought them over it. Called them in, repeatedly. "You're on night patrol. You're REQUIRED to be there." "Don't you WANT to be a hero?" "WHY ARE YOU TESTING US?"

Hero didn't tell them why. Didn't tell them about slipping into Villain's cell every night. Waiting in the pitch black. Alone. The body, strapped down, immobile, only a few feet from them, could've been a world away. The universe was a silent, dead room.

And yet nothing happened those nights. Hero didn't wake up on the floor. The cameras didn't cut. Villain didn't slip out of their restraints. Didn't even try. Hero always left just before dawn.

Hell, Villain's injuries even started to heal properly. Perhaps this was just what it took. To keep Villain calm. It wasn't too bad, waiting hours in the corner. It was worth it.

Until the night a rough, low voice cut through the quiet.

"How's my little bitch? Ready to play?"

Hero slammed a hand over their mouth, choking back a scream. Too dark to see, too dark-- but- HELL. The voice-- They really WERE-

[kiridarling]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐔𝐏!

shouto todoroki | f!reader, ceo heir!shouto, mirror sex, hair pulling, choking, inappropriate use of showerhead, alcohol. minors dni!

— 3k words

"You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

Miss Y/N,

I couldn't help but notice the latest project my father assigned is extremely difficult. If I'm going to be completely honest, you'll work yourself to death at this rate, and your greys double by the day. Drinks on me at Club 777 at 7 pm. Sound like a deal?

— shouto todoroki

“A club.”

“Glad you could make it,�� Shouto gives you a small smile; it’s anything but hostile. And yet, that’s all yours is as you assume the space to his right in the velvet crescent booth. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Club 777 is pretty popular around he—what are you doing.”

As your fingers fly across the keyboard, you give him an indignant huff, the screen highlighting the underside of your face electric blue as you continue hacking away at your presentation. If you’re going to be forced to go out, you’re going to make the most of it—and that’s by getting the work that you would be getting done at home, at a club. And a rather loud one, at that.

"You're a workaholic," he observes with a sigh, and you flash him a fat sarcastic smile. Stupid fucking CEO heirs and their entitlement.

"Congrats, you've solved everything! Can I go home, now?"

"No," Shouto frowns before he rudely snaps your laptop shut and sets it to his right. Pushing a plate of clear-colored shots your way, your eyes bulge—there have got to be at least fifteen. "Drink up—it'll take the edge off."

You blink between your coworker and the shots. You trust Shouto and you've known each other for a while...somewhat. His father is your boss, and with Shouto as the next in line you’ve got no choice but to play nice. He’s as cocky as he is aloof, but you suppose he’s fine overall—and he's seen you break your back over this project for a solid month and a half. Positive you won't be able to keep your conscious from running laps over all the work you have to do otherwise, you snatch the first shot and chuck it down your gullet with worrying enthusiasm. Shouto lifts an eyebrow and you reach for another.

"Thirsty?" He chuckles, before grabbing a shot for himself. The second shot burns, but never as much as the first, and the back of your hand catches what doesn't make it into your mouth as you say:

"More than you could think."

"And then—and then I was like, um no sir, I think you got my change wrong by at least five bucks! He didn't believe me, like at all."

"Did he make a fuss of it?"

"Of course."

"That means he has a small dick," Shouto advises with the second to last shot in his hand, wrist-watch glinting in the club light. His face is a deeper red than his hair and you've never noticed how nice a suit fits him as if you don't see him in one every day. You giggle at that, too far gone yourself to be offended on the stranger's behalf. Shouto's jacket drapes over your shoulders like an oversized blanket even though you bickered about not being cold, with enough alcohol in your veins to warm a village.

"Probably," you rest your head against the crescent booth, dismissive at the softness from the red velvet that’s probably ruining your hair. "Either way, I pulled a Karen and called the manager on 'em.

Shouto nods, "As you should. Once I tricked my father into thinking he had a very unhappy customer by sending him a million emails from 'John Appleseed' and calling his personal secretary twice as much."

You cackle, throwing yourself across the table at the thought of your Boss’ face hot and red with anger (as it does.) Shouto's loved nothing more than to make his animosity against his father well-known—to you, at least—and to say bored Heir been getting creative the past few months is an understatement. "Oh fuck—when'd you stop calling?"

Shouto shrugs, muscles rolling underneath his white dress shirt, "Once I filled his voicemail box.”

He holds a smile, small and distant, as he watches you wheeze as if he just told the funniest story in the world. In your defense, Shouto's never really been a funny guy, but he does funny things. Like when he stares at you when he doesn’t think you notice, or when he gets so close your chests nearly touch, but doesn't notice it. Doesn't point it out, at least. You find your laugh dying along with the smile on his face, though, and when he says nothing afterward but stare.

"...Shouto?" You snap in his face to make sure he's still in there—but it's hard to tell, with his glazed eyes and scarily steady breathing. His arms find either side of you, and you're too tipsy to realize you've been caged against the booth until it's too late.

"Your eyes are quite mesmerizing, Miss Y/N," he marvels. You can smell the vodka on his breath, and positive that compliment would’ve set your face aflame if the alcohol hadn’t already, any hints of cherry obscured by the neon club lights.

"I—um, thank you," you giggle, and if you were sober, you'd shoot yourself in the foot for reacting like a school girl. But you suppose you can give yourself some leeway—this is Shouto Todoroki after all, and for some reason, he's complimenting you. "You...you aren't too bad yourself."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a little closer, would you?" Though Shouto holds a cheeky half-drunken smile on his own, knowing any closer will result in nothing but a kiss and perhaps a little more. His eyes flicker to your lips the same time yours flicker to his, and you and you catch a heat in his eyes you didn’t notice before.

"Not at all."

You blink and Shouto's lips are on yours. They’re soft, painfully so, and it's clear he knows what he's doing—with his hands dropping to your waist and tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the right. Nudging your lips open, his tongue easily finds it's way around, mapping the insides of your mouth and taking note of what makes you shiver the most.

Shouto tastes like vodka. It's a familiar taste, one that you associate with seven minutes in heaven and quick make-out sessions in high school—and yet this time it spurs your heart to beat faster, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in even closer, as if it's possible.

When you pull away it’s clear neither of you really want to, but unfortunately you need to oxygen to live, chest heaving in unison as your eyes catch his own. Shouto's grip tightens around your waist as he licks over his already wet lips, glossed by what you assume is your spit.

“You’re one dangerous woman,” he rasps with swollen lips. You giggle, but you know he knows his words’ effect on you because goosebumps are impossible to hide.

“Thank you,” you respond, a bit awkwardly—because what else are you supposed to say?

"I'm positive it isn't the alcohol talking when I say I want to take you right here." Shouto growls as his eyes hold you in your seat. You shiver, the request sounding impossibly inviting, and your thighs discreetly rub together to take the edge off a bit.

"Bathroom," you breathe against his lips, this night turning for the most unexpected.

"Off, off, get all of this off," Shouto pants the moment you two step into a gender-neutral singles bathroom. You don't doubt they made it gender-neutral for this exact reason, but that thought leaves as quickly as it enters when Shouto pins you against the sink starts to pepper hot kisses down your neck. He scrambles to bunch your dress to your waist over taking it off completely and growls at the sight of your lower-half in absence of your usual attire.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you? Hmm?” He's breathless as he settles between your legs with a lick of his lips, pushing the excess of your dress into your hands. You really don't know how long he’s wanted you, but you find yourself biting your lip at the prospect anyway—that you've been driving your boss's son, your future boss, just as crazy as he's been driving you.

"Shouto—"

"Shhh," he interrupts, pulling your panties to the side. "Let me take care of you. You've been working hard these past few months, no?"

You guess so.

Either way, all clarity dies when Shouto licks a fat stripe up your slit, chuckling when you slide a tentative hand into his hair. Your grip tightens when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, slipping a finger between your folds to elicit a whimper or two. He bites his lip when you tug a little.

"Keep doing that and you just might ruin me," Shouto groans, before his mouth returns and he’s adding another finger. When the digits curl just right, your hips buck in faint frustration—they're moving too slow.

"Can you, um," you blush, eyes skittering to the bathroom walls instead. The club music permeates despite the fact that they look like they're made of solid brick, vibrating the floor and sink underneath you both. "Go faster?"

Shouto's eyes snap to yours. For a second you’re afraid he's going to say no, but he tosses your leg over his shoulder and adjusts your hips until they're at a perfect level, licking his lips and growling:

"My pleasure."

You're positive whoever loiters near the bathroom door hears your yelp as his mouth descends to devour your pussy, eating you so enthusiastically that you see you're slick smeared across his pink cheeks. Shouto pulls your hips deeper into his face with a defiant growl and you have to drop your forearms on the sink to keep yourself from falling to the hard ground, your grip around the porcelain ever-tightening.

"Feel good?" He rubs a heavy thumb over your clit in place of his mouth and stuffs you with a third finger. You nod with a broken moan as he pulls his digits out all the way out before burying them knuckle-deep again, grasp on the sink slipping. He flicks your clit, "Answer me."

"Y-Yeah," you nod again, near-hyperventilating. You’re sure Shouto’s getting a kick out of it—at least, if his chuckle has anything to say about it.

"Good girl," he coos, the circles on your clit slowly quickening, "You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

You're nodding along with him, though you're not exactly sure why—but then his mouth returns and suddenly, why doesn't matter as much.

Shouto's more vocal than you expected, groaning into your sweetness as your thighs trembles next to his head. He holds you like you're precious, like you're actually something to him, but you're much too drunk to unpack all of that right now. Instead, you tug at his hair. It pulls a much louder moan from his gut and you find yourself enjoying the vibrations, yanking harder to hear him again.

"W-Wait, Shouto," you whimper out, painfully close as you pull at his hair but this time to pull him away from you, "I wanna—wanna cum on your cock...if that's okay."

Shouto blinks once, twice, and then you're staring at yourself in the mirror listening to him frantically undoing his belt, cursing when the metal slaps him across the palm. You giggle.

"Eager, are we?"

"You don't even know," he pants, and the tip of his cock kissing your entrance has you biting your lip. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they melt when he fits the head of his cock inside, the grip he has on the porcelain sink turning white as he pushes further.

"You are—you are painfully tight, Miss Y/N," Shouto wheezes into your neck, teeth grit as his pelvis finally brushes against your ass. You resist the urge to wheeze with him, his cock filling you to the point where your lungs struggle to find room to breathe.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you joke, eyes fluttering shut. Shouto tuts, grabbing the underside of your face as he says:

"Eyes open, Miss Y/N. I want you to watch yourself fall apart as I fuck you."

Your eyes peel open, albeit reluctantly as you whine, not understanding why you need to watch your own face when you can enjoy the sight of him instead, "But Shouto, that's embarrassing..."

"Just trust me," he grunts, and his hips are snapping into yours, sending you jolting into the sink to the point where you have to brace a hand on the mirror to keep yourself from being squished flat against the porcelain. Shouto leans over, "You trust me, don't you?"

And well. When he puts it like that...

"Look at yourself, not at me," Shouto says, catching you redhanded. You whine when the hand holding your head moves to your neck and squeezes, cutting off your oxygen supply just enough for your eyelids to drop halfway. "See? See how good you look? So wrecked for me already and we've barely started."

"S-Shut up," you moan more than you say, finding yourself mesmerized in the way your lips part and by the redness of your cheeks. Shouto dips his head into your neck and sucks, prompting your free hand to find his multicolored hair again and pull. His reaction is almost automatic, the way the smooth rock of his hips changes into a quick snap in a heartbeat. It has you keening, his cock reaching places spots you weren't aware you had, and he crushes you against the sink to rub at your clit.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous for me," he grunts, hips finding the energy to pick up the pace. You whimper and he's sucking a hickey into your neck, hot breaths punctuating along with his sharp thrusts. "Feel so good around my cock, like you were made for me—shit—"

This time you break the rules, eyes flickering to look Shouto in the mirror as you watch him come undone. His hips stutter as he muffles a broken moan in the back of your neck, body shuddering while he fills you up. His thrusts slowly dissolve into nothing and soon it's just your heavy breathing between brick walls, until Shouto pulls out with a hiss.

"You didn't cum."

"O-Oh, um," You blink at his unimpressed gaze through the mirror as if you got caught redhanded. "I...usually can't. Without a vibe.”

Shouto hums at that but says nothing. You watch something in his brain churn, eyes surveying the room before a lightbulb appears above his head and he's snapping his fingers.

"The shower."

"...What?"

"The. Shower." Shouto says, a little cheekier this time, as he guides you towards a simple shower hidden behind a curtain. Now, why there’s a shower in a club bathroom is beyond you.

"Well. This seems awfully convenient," you click. Shouto shrugs.

"Sun (the author) says it's to clean up the drunks who vomit all over themselves." He takes the only shower seat available, back pressing against the tile.” I think she just wants you to ride a showerhead ****if I'm being completely honest."

"Maybe she tried it for the first time recently or something,” you hum absentmindedly, but that thought flies out the window as Shouto grunts:

"Either way, it's irrelevant. Strip."

"I—completely?" You exclaim, covering your body despite the fact that it's already covered by your dress again. Shouto raises an eyebrow, settling both elbows on his knees once grabbing the showerhead from its bar.

"Unless you want your outfit to get soaking wet, yes. Completely."

Touché.

You're naked fairly quickly and Shouto lays you across the tile even quicker. You watch him test the different modes on his hand, before choosing the one with the most...gusto. You spread your thighs and fight the embarrassing blush dusting your cheeks from the exposing position.

"Ready?" You roll your eyes.

"I swear Shouto, if you do—o-oh."

He presses the rushing water to your clit, and you have to take a step back, fully unprepared for how nice the pressure would feel. Shouto chuckles at that, the soles of his loafers soaking in the lukewarm water with you as he sits with his legs spread, brazenly enjoying the view.

"Feels good?"

You nod, hips subtly grinding into the hot stream. Shouto bites his lips at the view and it turns you on that much more to know you can have such an effect, before his free hand drops to his palm himself through his dress pants.

"I get the perfect view, too," Shouto growls to himself, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as you release a broken moan, bare hips stuttering against the tile. "A perfect view of that pretty little pussy. Ah ah, keep those legs for me."

Your inner thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, the edge looking much closer than it did previously. The combination of Shouto's words, his sounds, and the steady beat of the water against your clit is enough to have anyone shaking, and the only complaint you have is that you wish he wasn't so fucking far.

"S-Shouto," you whimper, hands scrambling across the slippery tile. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Do it then, make me proud," Shouto growls with a feral smile, grip tightening around his cock—you nod, chest shuddering.

“Y-Yeah just adjust the—oh fuck, Shou, right there!”

Your thighs clench as you gasp and your fingernails dig into the grout between the tile as you orgasm, your moan nearly bordering on a scream. Shouto groans, grip tight on his cock through his damp suit pants, and you nearly giggle as your high ebbs.

“Have I ever told you how dangerous you are, Y/N?” Shouto says cheekily. You grin back, cocking your head to the right.

“Only a million times.”

“Well then I owe it to you again,” he says lowly, and you get the message you two aren’t done as he joins you on the wet floor to cradle your jaw.

“You’re one dangerous woman, Y/N.”

a/n: i fully expose myself in this, and you know what? i'm fine with that.

click to return to CLUB 777

[ja3hwa]

Yunho || Never Let You Go

Word count: 2.1k

Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Sad times

Warnings: Too many!! Swearing, heavy verbal and physical abuse. Spitting, hateful words about readers body image (nothing specific but its still there). Degrading readers intelligence. Let me know if I missed something.

Notes: Readers Boyfriend is an abusive person. Yunho is our saver that gives great bear hugs. Honestly I don't really like this but I've been thinking about this scenario for a while, so yeah.

Also this not to make abuse look aesthetic nor romanticise it. This is purely for reading purposes. If you don't like it please block me.

Lightings everywhere, loud music blazing and chatting among colleagues. An evening party to celebrate a new year for K-idols. You are grateful to be able to meet or catch up with anyone from different groups, both male and female. It was amazing, given your only a dance teacher for most of these people, you don't get the closeness like this evening is giving.

"I'm going to just speak to someone and then we can leave." Your boyfriend spoke quick, blunt and emotionless. Leaving in a second but not before demanding you to meet him outside in the parking lot. You sigh, agreeing before heading out. You didn't want to leave but deifying or biting back at him would lead to unspeaking actions. But that was what your relationship was, that's how it was supposed to be. right?

- Earlier that evening -

You and your boyfriend were walking towards the back entrance of the event hall after Luke was finally finished his cigarette. He didn't want to leave you inside by yourself because in his words spoke I don't trust you to not talk to other males. You keep your arms crossed over your chest keeping in the warmth of your body, seeing your breath as you sigh quietly.

"So a little birdy told me that you've been with that ateez boys again." You heard him spit out his words, making your heart drop.

"Uh, what are you talking about baby? I-I only work in the same company, I would never--." You cut yourself off afraid of getting into more trouble. Tempting to lie to him was not the best but if he found out you were sneaking around to hang out with people, especially with males, you and them would certainly die.

"Don't lie to me." He stops dead in his tracks, making you turn to look at him. You try not to make eye contact as he walks closer to you, only becoming an inch away. He grabs your arm, making you flinch slightly at the sudden pressure.

"Aw baby." He strokes your arm sinisterly, pulling you face up by your chin so you are forced to look at him in the eyes. He brings twos fingers up to a strand of hair that fell in front of your face, pulling it behind your ear. A disgusted feeling hits in the pit of your stomach, feeling your jaw whimper at the feeling of the terrifying male towering over you.

"You know lying causes more trouble. Now tell me, am I not good enough? I know we don't have sex but that's because your body is disgusting and you don't satisfy my needs. You know I come first. So tell me why you must go around being a slut and sleep with them. And out of anyone, them?! it's like you are trying to make me mad." He pinches the bridge of his nose, spitting out swears and profanities. You stay frozen unable to find the words to say, too scared if you say something wrong you'll upset him further.

"I'm sorry but I didnt--DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME." He slaps the left side of your face hard, making you fall to the cold damp ground. You feel tears swell up, beginning to fall from your red eyes as your body starts to tremble.

"Get up, mutt." He hacks, spitting down at you. You shakily get up, unaware of what his next moves were. Your legs wobble, threatening your balance. He grabs your wrist pulling your numb body to him, digging his nails into the rough flesh, fearing to draw blood.

"Luke, please... I didn't" He grabs your neck, holding it tight, blocking your air pipe with a hard grip. Your breath hitches, brain starting to go into panic mode but you don't dare put your hands up to try and stop him, letting him have his way with your ragdoll body.

"If I ever catch you with another man, especially them. I'll break your legs and blame it on a car accident. I'll destroy every part of this pathetic body and make sure you have nothing left. Cause I own you." His eyes filling with rage, his grip threatening to snap your neck. You feel weak, your vision blurring, life leaving. The feeling of loss and helplessness. He won yet again.

"I-I'm sorry." You finally get out a word, apologising for your actions. With that, he lets go of your neck scoffing as he watches your body fall back to the cold ground. You cough out feeling the oxygen flooding back to you, trying to take a deep breath.

"Let's go back inside and if anyone asks you why your face is red, you better come up with a good story." He couches down to pick up your face up by your chin. Looking at you with a head tilt giving you a blank expression.

"I do this cause I love you. You need to learn my baby." He tucks the same small piece of hair that fell in front of your face earlier that night back behind your ear.

"I love you too." You smile at him as he gets up and walks back inside leaving you alone to cry softly. You hated him, you hated yourself and what's more, you hated that in your mind you somehow thought you still loved him.

-

"Oh hey Y/n. Leaving so soon?" You glance up from looking at your feet to see none other than the Ateez boy's hanging around in the back entrance parking lot, seeming like they were waiting for their ride to also leave for the night.

"Yeah, it's getting late. Besides, I have practise tomorrow. I'm helping Lisa with a photoshoot so I can't be late for that." You chuckle lying about your early retire. The boys all laugh along with you knowing the pains of getting up early.

"Y/n." You froze, instantly regretting opening your mouth, reminding yourself the reason you got hurt earlier this evening. A pit in your stomach begins to form, knowing you are going to get a worse punishment once you get home.

"I-..Luke, you ready to--"

"Why are you talking to them?" He growls clearly angry at your stupidity to talk to males. He sighs trying to keep his cool, pinching the bridge of his nose once again.

"Oh w-we work together. We were just talking about wor--."

"Did I give you permission to talk to them?" He strides towards you griping your already bruised wrist, pulling you towards him. You glance over at the others, all clearly shocked at the situation that's unfolding in front of him. But this is normal for you, to be yelled at 24/7 by the person that's supposed to be the one to make you feel safe.

You look over at Yunho, he's staring at you with so much concerning his eyes. His blood boiling at the sight of Luke gripping onto you. You feel your head spin, wanting nothing more than to break down and scream out how much Luke is abusing you. How much he hurts you. How much he makes you feel useless.

"Let's go." He pulls at your wrist but you pull back, breaking out of his grasp. His expression drops, fury in his eyes, slowing filling his body with rage.

"What are you doing?" He spits out.

What am I doing? You thought gulping at your dry saliva, heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

"Come on babe, let's. go." He states stern. Sweat forming on your brow, hands clenching into fists with balls of fabric from your shirt. You finally look at him on your own, looking dead in his eyes.

"No." You whisper, unable to speak any higher.

"WHat?" A shocked expression wipes over, biting the inner of his mouth, feeling the urge to throw his hands. Time seems to feel like it has stopped, a build-up of rage. So many emotions fuzzing your brain.

"I said no." You clear your throat. He goes to grab your arm once more but you sidestep away from him.

"Y/n I swear to god if you don't come with me right now."

"What? You'll hurt me, you have an audience now." You spat, pointing at the boy's standing awkwardly in the cold parking lot. He looks over at them making eye contact with Yunho. Mingi holds him by the shirt not wanting him to get involved just yet.

"I'm done. I don't want to be with you anymore." You finally broke your silence, the ball in your throat melting away, letting your words spill out like a river.

"What?! You're acting crazy. Did that fall mess with your brain." He lowly chuckles, trying to fake out a small laugh.

"Oh you mean the fall that happened when you hit me, yeah probably." You snapped. Hearing your words, Yunho broke from Mingis hold, fists in balls. He aimed for your boyfriend. Luckily Seonghwa grabbed his arm, making all the boys come closer to the verbal fight, trying to not step in unless you say otherwise. Luke however flipped finally having enough of your words, grabbing your arm, pulling you towards his body.

"DON'T TOUCH ME." You elbow him in the chest, pulling yourself free. Your heart swells the beat quickening as if it was going to burst outright of your chest. You look back to see Yunho with rage in his eyes being held back by not only Seonghwa but now Mingi and Wooyoung too. You scan the parking lot to see no one else. Sighing, you give a brief smile to the boys before looking back at Luke.

"You know what Luke, you are a disgusting, selfish, and pitiful women beater." Your words spill, choking lightly, you forbid yourself to cry in front of him, not to dare give him any satisfaction. Your heart snaps, breaking your silence.

"If you don't get what you want, you hurt people until you do. I'm done. You always tell me to fake a smile and tell everyone how perfect our relationship is. But in fact, I have nothing to smile about when I'm with you..." You step forward, making Luke take two steps back. You point at him, your face flushing red as rage now fueled your words.

"I've been waiting so long to finally have the strength and courage to tell you I don't owe you a god damn thing!" you scream your last words, finally getting your first breath of freedom in a while. He drops his image, glance at the males watching the intense show. Clicking his knuckles not caring about them seeing what is unfolding anymore.

"So you think you can do whatever you want because you have an audience behind you?" He growls bending to your eye level.

"You're so fucking stupid somethings. God, you make my life so fucking difficult." He sighs throwing his hands in the air, you flinch slightly, trying your best to stand your ground but your body is still afraid of him. He notices that giving out a light chuckle.

"I own you, I own your life, I gave you everything! You are mine!! I control you." He throws a tantrum feeling himself not getting his way. You look to the floor giving out a small laugh at his words, quickly wiping a stray tear before he could see.

"You own me? You gave me nothing! If you really did own me, control everything I do. Would I be able to do this?" You turn around looking Yunho dead in the eyes, Seonghwa and the others let him go, giving him the clear to finally intervein. You walk up to him in a second wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him close.

"Kiss me," You whisper, pulling him into a fuzzy and warm kiss. Passion spilling from both of you. Your heart skipping, never feeling such an emotion from only being with Luke. The kiss is different, something loving. You let go of him as he lets out a small droughted breath, shocked yet elated. Your attention back to Luke, you see him walking with full force toward Yunho. You move in front of him slapping him clean in the face, nearing making him lose his footing.

"You..." He holds his right cheek, spitting onto the floor. You hear faint 'ouch' and 'oohs' from the boys behind you. Luke noticing the noise to he grunts, standing up while fixing his suit.

"You know what, I just realised I'm still needed inside." He closes the button on his suit jack before scoffing off back towards the side entrance of the hall.

"I'm going to call the police." He stops dead in his tracks looking back at you in disbelief.

"I'm going to get all my things from your house. then I never want to see or speak with you again." He doesn't respond, taking in a large breath from his sniffling nose, he walks back inside. The minute he disappears from your view. The world feels like it came crashing down, all the pain and fear that was building for years, washed away in a second. You fall to the ground as your legs gave out from under you, finally letting your emotions overwhelm you. You sob, tears falling faster than rain.

"Y/n." You're quickly comforted by all the boys, all around you, calling out 'are you okays' and other worries they had. None of them came thew, as your brain felt like it was slowly shut down. The cold of the floor and wind was soon taken away from a large bear hug, engulfing you into comfort. Yunho stroked your hair whispering soft 'shh it's okay, I've got you now.' letting you cry into his shoulder.

He was never going to let you go...

-

Tag list : @yunhofingers @softforqiankun @violetwinters @kpopmademygradesgodown @lmhmh01

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[vgbellylover]

World of Belly - Chapter One

The first chapter of a story I'm writing based on a Fire Emblem Heroes RP I'm currently doing with someone. Unlike some other pieces I'm working on, this one took less than a day to write. Quite a bit of the dialog was pulled directly from the rp and all in all, I think it turned out rather well.

Send me your favorite part I wanna know.

Chapter One

Kiana, the Askrian Hero Summoner, sat at her desk in the palace, reading a thick book of powerful spells. Her window was open as the sunset, filling her room with the amber tones of twilight. 

There was a light knock on the heavy wooden door. The summoner answered and the door cracked open. It was Camilla, the Nohrian princess. "Kiana, honey, have you eaten yet? Overexerting yourself won't do you any good. Come, take a break."

Kiana shook her head. "Not yet. Let me finish this chapter." She turned back to her book. She had only just started a new chapter. 

The princess stepped into the room and walked to the desk. "Now, that won't do," she said, taking the book from the young woman's hands and closing it. "You need to keep up your strength. We need you and you won't be any help if you're too exhausted to stand up. Now, come." She took hold of the summoner's upper arm, hauled her to her feet, and led her out of the room towards the dining hall.

Glancing back at her desk, Kiana struggled to get free, but Camilla's grip was firm. "But... my studies..." 

"They're not going anywhere, honey. You can go back to them later." They soon arrived at the dining hall and found a couple of open seats among some of the more prominent members of the order: Marth, Ike, Corrin, Byleth, and others were talking and laughing amongst themselves at a table overflowing with food. Camilla pushed the summoner into the open chair next to the Radiant Hero, then took her own.

"Where have you been? We were worried about you." The hero finished the turkey leg in his hand, dropped the bare bone onto his plate, and patted his belly in satisfaction. His shirt was stretched tight across his gut, which churned loudly as it worked on its cargo.

Kiana stammered out an apology, a little intimidated by the Hero's presence. "S-s-sorry, I've been b-busy with my studies l-lately."

Ike laughed. "There's no need to be so nervous. I'm not gonna hurt you, but geez, you're just like Soren. Always with your nose stuck in a book." She responded by sticking her tongue out at him. He smirked at her and leaned forward to refill his plate, dropping a few bits and pieces into the young woman's. "Eat up. You're so small." 

Sighing, the summoner picked up a bright red apple and bit into it. Camilla watched her, engaging in idle conversation with those around her when Ike, who had just downed another tankard of ale, belched loudly.

"Ike," Marth said, exasperated, "that's disgusting." 

Several in the vicinity laughed. Corrin and Byleth seemed to disagree, with Corrin suggesting it was sexy. Byleth, her eyes occasionally flicking down to his stomach, was staring at the legend, a light blush across her cheeks. He smirked at the young royal. "Sounds like you're outnumbered, princeling." 

Kiana finished her apple, placed the core on her plate, and reached for a dinner roll.

Marth sighed. "I've asked you not to call me that."

"Yeah, and I told you that I'll stop when you beat me."

The summoner inhaled sharply, nearly choking on the bite she had just taken. She coughed, pounding her chest. The others at the table turned to her, concerned. "You okay? I've found it's not a good idea to inhale your food. It goes in your belly, not your lungs."

She hacked up the food that had caught in her throat and was breathing heavily. "I'm f-fine, I just..." she swallowed hard, "w-what you said simply s-shocked me..." 

The hero blinked. "What was said that was so startling?"

"I'd... rather not say..." she mumbled, looking away.

"Is it that I've kicked Marth's ass? More than once?" 

"That shouldn't be surprising, Kiana," Camilla said. "you know he's one of the most powerful heroes here."

The summoner flushed. "In my defense... I d-didn't even know you would f-fight each other..."

"It's training, not fighting," Byleth said from the other side of the table. "There's a difference. It improves skills and teamwork, and gives insight into allies' strengths and weaknesses."

"And since Ike is so good, a lot of swordsmen to spar with him." The young Altean prince glanced at the Radiant Hero, who was still smiling, then closed his eyes in resignation. "He... has yet to lose a match." 

The two of them started arguing again, the summoner waited for a chance to slip away. As she stood up, ready to make a run for it with a basket of cookies in her hands, Ike caught her by the elbow. "Where do you think you're going? There's no way you're done, you just got here."

She tried to shake off his grip, nibbling on a cookie. "Uh... to go s-study?"

Camilla rose and took the basket of sweets from the summoner's hands. "Kiana, honey, your body needs more than just fiber and sugar."

"You might as well back down," Soren called from Ike's right. "I don't think they'll let you leave until they're satisfied with your intake." He turned back to his commander. "Can I go now?" Ike agreed and he stood up. As he turned to leave, he spoke to the summoner again. "They're doing this because they care about you. Believe me, I speak–" he belched suddenly, holding his stomach with both hands– "excuse me, from experience." 

Kiana pouted and sank back into her seat. Her stomach gurgled loudly as Camilla placed a large plate with steak, baked potatoes, grilled mushrooms, fresh salad, and warm bread in front of her. She begrudgingly began to eat. Her pace increased rapidly. She was apparently more hungry than she thought, shoveling several bites worth into her mouth before forcing them down her gullet.

"There's a good girl," the hero next to her commented, laying an arm across the back of her chair. He began filling his plate again. "Don't even think about leaving anything behind."

Marth stared at him. "How are you still hungry? Dear Naga, how much of our budget goes into feeding you?"

Ike shrugged, laughing. "I wouldn't know."

The summoner had stopped eating and was watching the hero. "Ike, please remember you're not my father. At least... I don't think you are..." She trailed off. Who were her parents? She couldn't remember anything prior be being summoned to the World of Zenith.

"Pretty sure I'm not," the hero was saying, "but–"

"Ike," Camilla cut him off, shaking her head. He put his hands up in defeat. The Nohrian princess laid a reassuring hand on the young woman's shoulder. "It's alright if you can't finish everything, honey, but try to eat at least some of everything."

She nodded and resumed her meal. Slower this time - she was getting rather full by this point - absently listening to the surrounding conversation.

Ike had turned to Byleth, who had snatched Soren's empty seat almost as soon as he had left, laying her head on the Radiant Hero's shoulder. She had pulled up the front of his shirt, revealing the tight globe of flesh beneath.

"That appetite of yours is super hot," she whispered to him, running her fingers across his pale skin.

"Yours is pretty cute, too," he teased, reaching over and poking her in the belly. 

She squeaked, blushing furiously. Then, she quietly resumed her exploration of the Hero's gut. "Ike?" she finally asked.

"Yeah?"

"Are you... free later next week?"

The hero though, scratching at his cheek. "I... don't think I have anything planned, why?"

"There's... a tournament in the city that's accepting applications right now. It's a team battle and I was wondering if, maybe, you'd... want to enter... With me."

The legend had cocked his head, a look of mild confusion on his face. "Byleth... are you... asking me out on a date?" He glanced down at her. She nodded shyly. 

He held her gaze for a minute or so, then he smiled. "Sure, why not? I like you."

She smiled faintly, then rested her head on his shoulder again, stroking his massive muscles.

Kiana finished her second plate and leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her taut belly. She was full now, her stomach bulging beneath her clothes. A light burp escaped her. Ike and Camilla glanced at her, then at each other, nodded once, and hauled themselves out of their seats.

"Let's get you to bed, honey."

"Ok, Cami," the summoner said, following the princess out of the room. The two of them went one way, Ike and Byleth went another. Kiana absently noticed they were holding hands.

When she and Camilla reached her room, the princess turned to her. "Go to sleep, Kiana. I'll come get you for breakfast in the morning."

The girl nodded as the older woman walked away. She entered her room and closed her window, drawing the curtains closed. She pulled several books off one of her bookshelves and sat down at her desk to leaf through them, trying to find some hint as to why she had been summoned to this particular time and place, and where she had come from. 

—————————

She must have lost track of time. Before she knew it, sunlight was streaming through the slit in her drapes. 

Camilla knocked on the door again. "Kiana, honey? Are you awake?" 

The sudden announcement caused the summoner to start violently, setting off a fire rune on the open face of one of her books, and the world went white.

There was a sudden rush of footsteps as the Nohrian princess was blown backward. 

"Hey!" Ike called as he rounded a corner. He and Byleth dug Camilla out from under the remains of the door. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine–" she pressed a hand to the side of her head– "I think, but Kiana..." She glanced at the time of the summoner's room. Just about everything that happened to be wood had caught fire, and debris from the collapsed walls and ceiling filled the room and hallway. Byleth led the princess down the hall away from the smoke. 

"Somebody put this fire out," the hero commanded, carefully stepping through the hole in the wall. "Kiana?"

The girl coughed. Her ears were ringing and her body ached from the force of the explosion. "I-Ike?" She coughed again, her voice hoarse. "Is that... A-are you okay?"

"Yeah. My ears are ringing a bit, but that's about it." He cleared away the rubble she was buried under and knelt beside her. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"

"I..." She accepted his aid to her feet, but her knees bucked beneath her, and she collapsed against him clinging to his clothes. She was shaking pretty badly. 

He sighed. "I'll take that as a 'no'." He leaned down and scooped the tiny girl into his arms and easily carried her out of the smoldering ruins to a bench some ways down the hall. Byleth followed them. He lowered her to the seat and knelt in front of her, his expression serious. "Now, tell me: what happened"

The gaze he fixed her with was direct and she squirmed under its intensity. "G-got surprised... accidentally set off a fire rune..." She wiped her face. Her hand came away bloody. Byleth sat next to her, taking her face in one hand while touching the wound on her forehead with the other. Kiana felt a slight surge as the professor healed the wound. She turned back to the hero in front of her, then looked away again. 

"Everything, Kiana. What were you doing when it happened?" She didn't respond. He sighed. "You were up all night again, weren't you?" 

She hung her head but still didn't respond. Shakily, she did to her feet, ready to run. 

Ike caught her by the wrist. "Kiana, listen to me. This is about your parents, I understand your want to know more, but this–" he gestured to the wreckage at the end of the hall– "is exactly why you can't push yourself as hard as you have been. No one was seriously hurt this time, but we may not be so lucky if this happens again." He gripped her firmly by the shoulders. "Do you understand?"

Kiana was struggling to hold back tears. A tumult of emotions coursed through her. Mostly a mix of frustration and guilt. She conjured a small portal and ran to the castle courtyard. A bit of fresh air should do her good.

The two older heroes watched her disappear. "Ike," Byleth said, a little reproachfully. "Don't you think that was a little... harsh?"

The hero sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I warned you I'm not very good at talking." He sat down next to her. "Maybe I should have let you deal with that." 

"Ike!" a voice called from the other end of the hallway. The Asker royal siblings, Alfonse and Sharena, were sprinting towards them. "What happened?"

"Kiana accidentally set off an explosion."

"Kiki? Where is she? Is she okay?" the young princess asked, her green eyes full of concern.

Ike sighed and leaned against the wall, regarding the ceiling. "She teleported off somewhere. She was a bit shaken but otherwise unhurt. Except maybe a few cuts and bruises.

"Why would she teleport?" the prince asked, skeptical.

The older hero shook his head. "I... may have been a bit short with her." He fixed Alfonse with an apologetic stare. "She trusts you two, right?" They nodded. "You should go find her, then. Get some food in her belly, then get her to bed. I think she needs rest now than anything right now."

The two siblings nodded again and turned to go find their friend. "Let's start with the courtyard."

They found the young summoner under a tree, knees pulled up to her chest with her head resting on her arms. Her shoulders were shaking with grief.

"Kiki?" Sharena called from the arched doorway. "Are you here?"

Kiana raised her tear-stained face briefly and quickly returned to her contemplation of her sleeves, pulling her hood over her head. 

The two siblings sat on either side of her. Alfonse silently took his friend's hands in his own as his sister wrapped her arms around the trembling girl's shoulders. "Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice gentle and caring. "Are you alright? Tell us what happened."

The summoner stared at him, then broke down in a fresh wave of tears. "Wh-what's the p-p-point?" she cried. "I'm s-s-supposed to be the s-strong one..." She couldn't continue, her grief consuming her once again.

"You are strong. You just made a mistake. We all do that. But don't think you have to shoulder everything alone. We're here for you. All of us." The young prince kissed the back of her hand.

The two royals held her until she had calmed down enough to speak again. "...I hurt them... I destroyed your castle because of my ignorance. I do my best to push through everything to be there for them and I hurt them!" She wiped at her face. Her sleeves were soaked through. 

Sharena spoke softly, stroking her hair. "That's why we want to help you. So we can avoid as many mistakes as we can."

It took a few more minutes for Kiana to stop crying. "Are you feeling better?" She nodded. Guilt still gripped her heart, but its grasp had loosened somewhat. 

Alfonse stood up and offered her his hand. "Come on, then. Let's get you something to eat."

She sighed as he pulled her to her feet. "Was that Ike's idea?"

"If it's what he said that mage you feel this way, I'm sure he didn't mean come across the way he did. He had the best intentions at heart." The prince smiled, then. "Besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, regardless of what Ike says." He reached down and prodded her in the tummy. She squeaked, stepping back and wrapping her arms around herself. Her face was bright pink.

The two siblings laughed, leading her to the dining hall, looking for enough open seats. Alfonse caught sight of several, and the three of them made their way toward them. They were intercepted by Ike, Byleth, and Soren halfway there. Sharena offered to go ahead and save enough for them as the Radiant Hero addressed the summoner.

"Hey, I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier. I realize I may have come off as cruel, but I promise that's not what I meant. I've made plenty of mistakes as a leader and I want you to understand that I'm only trying to help you from making the same mistakes more than once. Can you forgive me?"

Kiana didn't move at first. Then, she threw her arms about his waist. He returned the gesture. She was barely chest-high on him and she suddenly felt very safe in his strong embrace, his calm, steady heartbeat filling her ears. Her heart had warmed at the sincerity of his words and a small flicker of confidence bloomed in her breast. 

"If you ever need anything, kid, don't hesitate to ask. I'll help however I can," he said, releasing her and ruffling her hair. "You've got a good head on your shoulders. Try not to lose it, yeah?" 

"That was nicely done," Byleth whispered to him as they and Soren found some open seats among the Greil Mercenaries.

She and Alfonse then joined his sister and began to eat. Aside from accepting a plate of waffles covered in chocolate and heavy whipping cream, Kiana didn't pay much attention to what she put in her belly. She simply ate until her stomach was good and full again. She felt much better now what she had eaten. 

Once the three of them had eaten their fill, they left, returning their dishes to the kitchen on their way out. The royal siblings led the summoner to her new room, where Commander Anna was shelving an armload of scorched books. She turned to them as they entered. "You'll be staying here, now," she told Kiana. "We saved what books we could, but most didn't survive, sorry. You should try to get some rest. We can look for your parents after you've recovered." 

The tired girl nodded, stuttering another apology. "You don't need to apologize. Just go to sleep." And with that, the commander ushered the two siblings out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Kiana sat on the bed, trying to finish restoring books, but her mind was too muddled to focus. Her eyelids drooped and her head nodded. Eventually, she toppled back onto the bed into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

[sylvari-bouquet]

❝ have you ever had something…missing? like something just doesn’t feel right inside you but you don’t know what it is. ❞ (for Beulraith?)

Ooh, it seems I've not written anything about him ever since his intro post! Time to fix that!

It's raining somewhere else

The rain was a ceaseless downpour, battering down on dirty rooftops and dirty citizens alike, those poor bastards that had been caught unaware of the unpredictable moods of the weather and were now running desperately to find any kind of shelter. One of them, of course, happened to be Beulraith too. He cursed his usual luck, trying to pull his cape around him to get more cover, but it was a futile effort - the cloth was already soaking through. Instead, he ducked underneath one of the larger alcoves, hoping to get out of the direct rain and wind. Back against the heavy wooden double doors, Beulraith leaned towards them to catch his breath. He'd have no other choice than to wait for the storm to pass.

The cold rain reminded him of the summer storms back in Caledon, but those rains had been warm. Hundreds of tiny waterfalls pouring through the leaves, droplet after droplet dropping down to the large pools underneath the roots, like nature's miniature concert. That person had never liked the rain though. They had always asked him to close the windows when it rained, and he'd done so. "It just makes me feel miserable", they had said. Beulraith had wanted to do anything that would make them feel less so.

A cough jolted him from his thoughts, nearly making him ready to run into the rain once again, until he perceived there was no immediate danger. Beulraith had completely missed that there was someone else in the same shelter, but as they were hacking their lungs away, they likely weren't going to be a threat. At least, not just yet. It was a charr, but older than any Beulraith had seen so far.

"My apologies, sylvari. I didn't mean to spook you", the old charr spoke up, "the weather is just not quite agreeing with me."

"I think I can share that sentiment", Beulraith nodded and replied. And for some time, neither of them said anything, merely shared the space in silence, watching as the rain run along the walls and pool around the clogged sewer holes. At least the city would be a tad more cleaner come tomorrow.

"What brings you to Lion's Arch?" the charr finally asked, "Fame or fortune?"

"A bit of both", Beulraith answered, "So far I've just encountered infamy and misfortune."

The charr laughed dryly at his remark, until he coughed again. "That is the Lion's Arch for you, I'm afraid", the charr replied when he could breath again, and continued talking:

"Let me make a guess, since you seem like the type. have you ever had something...missing? Like something just doesn't feel right inside you but you don't know what it is. And now you're trying to fill that void with anything you come across. I've seen that happen a lot to good soldiers, back in the day I was still in a 'band", "just a word of advice, and for free - don't let it become the boss of you."

Beulraith felt irritated - by the stranger's words, by the cold, damp air and the heaviness between his ribs that the weather had caused. It had been a mistake to stop here.

"I have no idea what you are talking about", he replied, pulling his still soaking hood up. The coolness felt almost refreshing, or at least he could pretend it was anything else than miserable. He was very good at that.

"Besides, the storm's all cleared up, so, goodbye." Beulraith walked back into the raining streets without even looking at the old charr anymore. The charr however, kept looking at his back until he disappeared behind a street corner.

"He seems like a good candidate, I'll have to see if my old contacts are still in need of a pair of hands and ears", the charr mused to himself, "ears to the ground, so you'll hear the whispers of the city better..."