#nothing but love from questies

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

Disappointed and Disgusted with Bridgerton "fans"

Of all the fandoms I am a part of, filled with criminals, murderers, vampires, demons, and all sorts of other morally grey (dark grey at best) characters, some how the most toxic and offensive one is for a regency romance that was designed to be diverse and inclusive. No where else do I see such blatant racism, body shaming, homophobia and general disrespect for not just the characters but the cast as well. As is it is ever alright to talk about people you don't even know that way, they have the audacity to go so far as to tag them. What has to be broken inside you to behave this way? Make it make sense!

That last bit was obvious dramatic sarcasm. Don't be foolish enough to bring your hate speech here. I Will Not Tolerate It!

[mayaree-darling]

who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU

from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot

warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)

word count: 2k~

You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.

You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).

All has never been better.

Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.

The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?

But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).

The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)

It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It didn't take long for their will to break.

The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.

This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?

The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.

Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.

This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?

They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.

They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.

They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.

With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.

They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.

It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?

Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.

"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"

There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.

You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.

Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?

As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.

It was all better with you.

When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.

You are their beloved Creator.

As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.

"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."

You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.

Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.

A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.

They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?

Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.

Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.

"What happened to the Creator?"

You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.

"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."

They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?

For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.

It will all be yours.

You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.

They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.

You always had been good at adapting.

You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[mariclerc]

Soft fur | cl16

Summary: When your date with Charles takes an unexpected turn. Or when you have a new fluffy member in the family.

Warning: None, a lot of fluff from Charles and reader.

You and Charles have been dating for a long time, and occasionally you go on casual dates since you are both busy and hardly have time for a date as such, and today is one of those. You are both sitting in front of each other, the sun was coming through the window of the place, plates with half-eaten and delicious pastries occupy the space between you. You take a bite of a macaron, your eyes sparkle with delight.

“You're enjoying that, mon amour?” Charles asks while keeping a little smile on his face.

You nod with your mouth full. “Mmm! It's so light and airy, just like... Well, you.”

He chuckles. “Me? It's that because I'm sweet and fluffy? Flattery will take you so far, love.” He winks and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You blush lightly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

Moments later, you walk hand in hand down a cobblestone street. The afternoon sun warms up your skin, and the gentle murmur of conversation hangs in the air while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time.

“...and then the girl screamed very loudly in the office, and I was scared, she screamed because there was a bug in her coffee cup, she started shaking the cup, spilling coffee all over the floor. I swear it was something out of a movie.”

“Oh god, I can imagine it, baby.” he said while laughing.

Suddenly you feel something soft against your ankle, you stop and look down at the floor to see fluffy siamese kitten nuzzling you leg. Its emerald eyes looked at you with great curiosity and innocence.

“Oh god Charles, look! It's a kitty! It's so small, oh my!” You say while gasping.

He kneels while extending a hand. “Hello there, little one. Where did you come from?”

The kitten rubs against his palm, purring contentedly. You watch, your heart melting at the beautiful sight.

“It's so cute. Can we pet it?”

He smiles. “Of course, mon ange.”

He gently picks up the kitten, cradling it in his arms. You reach out with a shy smile, tentatively stroking its soft fur. Memories of your childhood flood back: begging your parents for a pet, daydreaming about cuddling with a furry friend, or simply being your companion while you study.

“You know? I always wanted a kitten when I was younger. But my parents never let me had one.” You said with your voice a little brittle.

He notice your wistful expression. “Is that something you still want princess?”

“I don't know... It seems a bit silly now, being an adult and all.” You say a little hesitantly.

Looks at you intently. “Silly? I don't think it's silly love. If it makes you happy, it's not necessarily silly.”

He holds the kitten out to you. You hesitate for a moment, then cautiously take it in your arms. The warmth of its tiny body fills you with a sense of comfort and joy.

“Thank you Charles.” You say in a whisper.

He smiles warmly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Consider it an early Valentine's day present.”

You let out a little giggle and continue walking together, now with your new furry friend, which is quite comfortable in your arms, the sun light becomes brighter and more resplendent. After walking for a while, you and Charles stand in a bustling pet store, the kitten nestled comfortably in your arms. Shelves overflow with cat toys, treats, and colorful accessories.

“There are many options! What can we choose?” Your eyes are wide with wonder.

He chuckles. “Well, let's ask the experts, don't we?” He approaches a friendly-looking employee wearing a name tag that reads "Sarah." “Hi there! We found a little lost soul and are looking for the perfect essentials to welcome it home.”

“Oh, how adorable! What a lucky kitty. Let's see what we can do.”

Sarah guides you through the maze of cat supplies, explaining the differences between food brands, litter types, and scratching posts. You bombard her with questions, your excitement growing with each answer.

***

Later, you stand in your cozy apartment, transforming a small corner of the living room into a cat sanctuary. Charles helps you assemble a cat condo, set up a litter box, and fill bowls with food and water. The kitten, now sporting a cute red collar and named "Sparks" by you, explores its new territory with playful curiosity.

“All ready! What do you think Sparks? Happy with your new digs?” You say while wiping some sweat from your forehead caused by the work of arranging things.

Sparks rubs against your leg, purring loudly. You kneel down and scoop it up, burying your face in its soft fur. A contented sigh escapes your lips.

“You look radiant, mon bébé! Even happier than with the pastries.” He said while wrapping his arms around you.

“Maybe it's the pastries, maybe it's the kitten, but mainly it's you. Thank you for making this dream come true, Charles!” You say with a little smile on your face as you lean into him.

He kisses your forehead, his eyes filled with love. Sparks, sensing the affection, snuggles closer to you, completing the picture of perfect domestic bliss.

“Now we have a little family!” He says while having a smile on his face.

“Maybe later, a little human addition to the family?” You say in a whisper.

Charles's eyes widen in surprise, followed by a slow, teasing grin. “Mon ange, are you proposing?”

“Maybe...” You say while blushing. “But I think for now we are fine the way we are.”

You don't rule out the idea of ​​having a family in the future, whether near or distant, with Charles, but at the moment you guys are pretty good with Sparks and their fun and curious things that they do every day and that make them smile at the least expected moment, no matter how stressed or tired you both are, Sparks is always there to make you smile.

[princessmaybank]

I Love You So Fucking Much

Pairings: Sweet!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Fluff, Pussy Whipped!JJ, Surprise Kiss, Mention of Heavy Petting, Oral (Fem. receiving, short lived), p in v, no protection, cliffhanger, not really edited, etc.

Summary: The guys have been teasing JJ about his crush all day.

Authors Note: My first fic in a while! It's a little short, let me know if you want a part 2! I hope you like it!

JJ's POV:

Pope and John B apparently woke up and chose to torture me today. All day we've been with the girls and they wouldn't stop crackin' jokes. Basically I like my best friend and the guys pressured me into telling them that information a few days ago. I haven't seen her since before I told them, and I guess the guys just got really excited and wanna be dicks. Can't say I wouldn't do the same to one of them.

We were hangin' out in front of the fire at the chateau. I was in a fold up chair in between Pope and Sarah. John B was obviously directly next to Sarah and Kie and Y/N were on the other side of the fire. I couldn't stop staring at Y/N. She is gorgeous, her eyes lit up in front of the fire. "Got a lil drool there." Pope teases and reaches for my face, causing me to back up and slap his hand. Everyone noticed me slap him and was staring. "Why'd you hit Pope?" Sarah asked.

"Because it's funny." Is the best I could come up with. Everyone went back to their conversations but I saw John B whispering to Sarah out of the corner of my eye. Next thing I know Sarah turned to me and gasped, of course he fuckin' told the blabbermouth. I glare at her and whisper 'don't' , hopefully she listens.

Pope noticed the events and giggled to himself. "I don't see why you're so scared." Once again I was the center of attention. Kie finally pipes up. "JJ Maybank is scared of something? Never." Everyone giggled, exchanging nods.

Even though the topic changed many times I was still the focus of the night. The guys, and now Sarah, have still been teasing the whole time.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer, anyone want one?" Y/N asked the group as she stood up. Everyone gave her a nod or a 'yes'. "Wasn't expecting everyone, can someone help me?" She smiled with that small laugh that makes her cheeks go pink. She looked so perfect, the fire made her eyes twinkle.

"JJ would love to help you Y/N." Pope said before anyone could offer. "Yeah JJ go help our dear friend Y/N." John B said with a smug look on his face. Y/N shook off JB's weird look as I got up and followed behind her.

She was bent over in the fridge handing beers to me, not looking back. My teeth involuntarily bit my bottom lip as I stared at her ass. She was wearing shorts but she might as well be naked with the way I'm gawking at her.

I didn't notice she had stood up and turned around until a hand waved in front of my face. "Hey there, anybody home?" She giggles. Fuck that laugh was gorgeous. "oh uhm yeah sorry-" I apologized. She giggled again. "What were you so fixated on?" "Uhm- nothing..it's not really important.." I said while grabbing the beers and heading to the door. She shrugged it off as we just went outside.

When we made it back, apparently Kie played musical chairs because she was in my seat now. Leaving the two across from everyone open. We passed out the beers and I begged Kie to give me my seat back but she only smirked at me and waved me off. So everyone knows now, fuckin' great.

"Just come sit with me Jay- I don't bite." She smiled, patting the chair next to her. "What if he wants you to..." Pope muttered almost too loud. "What?" She asked, looking confused. I shook my head telling her not to worry about it and I took my seat next to her.

Everyone on the other side of the fire is having a conversation- well Pope and Kie are, Sarah and JB are sucking each other's faces off. Y/N and I just kinda sat in uncomfortable silence for a little bit before she spoke up. "Why have the guys been teasing you all day?" I was not prepared for this question so the truth just kinda came out. "Oh- uh they found out I uh like this girl and now they won't leave me alone about it." I said not looking into her eyes. "Awe I wanna know!" She said, full of excitement. I shook my head 'no' very vigorously, not uttering a word. Everyone was looking at us again. "Oh please! I love love! I won't tell her Jayj!" She smiled and grabbed my hand for reassurance but I couldn't focus. "Yeah, c'mon Jayj! She won't tell her!" John B chimed in teasingly. My cheeks were heating up as everyone, including her, looked at me. Her hand was still on mine.

"I need to take a leak." I sprung up out of my seat and announced to the others. Everyone just shrugged as I walked towards the house. I headed to the bathroom and actually did have to piss when I got there, so I guess it wasn't a full blown lie.

When I was done I washed up and calmed down. I stared in the mirror at my bright red cheeks. How did she have this effect on me?

When my emotions were finally under control I went to walk out of the bathroom, but I was met face to face with the goddess herself. "Are you okay Jayj? You've been gone a little while." She sounded so concerned and the way she calls me that nickname makes me wanna bust in my pants right here and now.

"Uhm yeah, just a little overheated from the fire." I shrug trying not to let her fluster me. She crossed her arms like she didn't believe a word I said. "You're acting really weird tonight Jayj...did I do something wrong?" The look on her face made me upset, she looked sad. "Of course not.." I rush to say. "I told you the guys have been messing with me about my crush all day, it's upsetting me.." That also wasn't a full blown lie. I was upset over the things they were saying, but only because they were saying everything in front of said crush.

"Wanna talk about it?" She whispered softly, her eyes begged. I just nodded before motioning to the guest bedroom so I could talk about it with her privately. I sat down on the bed and when she got in the room, she shut and locked the door. I was instantly hard but I knew that's not where this was going. Y/N found her spot next to me and faced her body towards me. I stayed on the edge of the bed, not looking at her but I really really wanted to.

I felt a hand creep onto my thigh. "It's okay if you don't wan-" I cut her off by turning and kissing her. Surprisingly she kissed me back. I'm not sure where this confidence came from, but I'm running with it. Neither of us stopped this kiss until she needed some air. When our lips parted, her face was laced with shock.

"I-I'm sorry- I shouldn't ha-" I started tripping over my words before she cut me off. "I liked it." She said, still filled with shock, which made me happy inside but I wasn't sure where to go from here.

We sat in silence for about a minute before she straddled me and took my lips with hers again. She laid me down, deepening the kiss as she very carefully and slowly rocked her hips on mine. She was so scared to move her hips that I almost didn't feel it against me. I moved mine more harshly against hers to show her it was okay.

After about 30 seconds of heavy petting, I was tearing her clothes off. We had switched positions now and she looked perfect. I was standing in front of her only in my shorts and boxers while she laid there naked. I couldn't help my eyes from wandering all over her body, which unfortunately made her freeze and hide her body. I moved her arms away trying to slowly soothe her. "You're gorgeous.." I smile at her. Before she could say anything I massaged her perfect tits and then got on my knees in front of her.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. She gave a shy smile before eagerly nodding to me. "I wanna hear a 'yes', Y/N." It came out more stern than intended. "Ye-yes Jayj.." She stuttered. She fucking stuttered. Knowing that I'm the man getting her flustered and ready, is fueling my confidence. I just want to please her in this moment.

Her eyes followed my motions as I peppered kisses on the insides of her thighs. I couldn't stop staring into her beautiful, sparkling eyes. They had a hold on me and wouldn't let go. As I got closer to her heat, she made it quite clear that that is where she needed me most. I lightly placed kisses up and down, reaching from her dripping wet hole to her swollen clit. A moan escaped her lips as she stared into my eyes. I couldn't keep teasing I needed her now. I gave her a few good minutes of sucking and licking while reaching to fondle her tits. I would have continued but I heard a soft voice say-

"JJ please fuck me..."

That's all I needed to hear. I pulled my shorts and boxers down and gave myself a few slow strokes. Her eyes landed on my dick and went wide. Her jaw dropped and she kept staring. "It will fit." I chuckled knowing that's what she was worried about.

My hands reached for her cheeks to pull her closer into a soft, passionate kiss. I climbed on top of her, never breaking our kiss and lined myself up with her entrance. Y/N wrapped her arms around my neck as I pushed myself into her slowly which resulted in her pulling her mouth away from mine to let out a moan. I smirked and pulled her lips back to mine as I began to thrust inside her at an easy pace.

"Fuck Jay, you feel so good..." She said under her breath. I watched as her eyes and head rolled back with her pretty little mouth wide open, making the most beautiful sounds. "Keep your eyes on me pretty girl." I said pulling her gaze back to me by her chin with my first finger.

"D-don't call me that.. I'll cum" She said with a light laugh causing me to giggle a little. I hid my face in the nape of her neck because I felt embarrassed and also flustered. The way we were able to laugh and not feel pressured felt amazing. This felt natural. I started giving her neck small kisses before I found her sweet spot, I sucked on it until it was a deep red and purple. The moans I was responsible for slipping from her mouth were music to my ears.

When my eyes met hers again, I swear they were telling me that she felt the same way I did. That little sparkle from before seemed to only grow brighter. This is the most intimate I've ever been in my life, and I'm happy it's with her.

"I'm almost there Jayj..." She whined into my ear. My hips sped up and I pushed her knees to her chest so I'm able to pound deeper into her. "Fuck please don't stop, please." Her eyes were pleading with me. "I don't plan on it baby..." I rolled my eyes to the back of my head, half due to pleasure, the other half because I can't believe I just called her baby. But she smiled. She actually smiled.

I held myself back from kissing her anymore. I don't know if she liked me back or if this was a one time thing. I'm already beating myself up for doing this before taking her out first. But like I said before...it felt right, natural even.

My thrusts started getting faster and sloppier. The orgasm creeping up on me took all control of my body. Her legs fell to my sides as my hands held her waist and I pulled her close. Our eyes danced between each other's lips and gaze before we sealed the deal. My hips didn't stop their motions, and I knew she was about to bust by the way her sounds were getting muffled by our kiss. I nodded letting her know I was ready as well.

Next thing I knew, she pulled her lips away from mine to moan my name, then I felt her cum leaking out onto my dick. She was so beautifully undone beneath me. When it was my turn to release, I was a moaning mess. My load shot into her, the sounds we were making tangled together to make the most amazing music I've ever heard.

My head found its way to her ear as my arms wrapped around her torso. As I rode out our highs, I made one of the biggest mistakes you could make when having 'casual' sex. I didn't realize it until I pulled my head back and saw her eyes.

I can't believe I said it..

"I love you so fucking much..."

[normansnt]

Okay so I, myself, is trans masc and have bad body dysphoria. If it’s alright with you could I ask for something with Alastor and the reader cuddling or something with fluff along the lines of being overly sensitive about what they look like and such? If you’re not comfortable with that then something with angst (I love angst) with Alastor and male reader?

HERE YOU GO LOVE

I hope you like it I did put a bit of angst in it since you said you liked it🫡

Ok Alastor might be a bit OOC but like😎

Warnings: body dysphoria

Handsome boy

(Alastor x trans male reader)

Here you were again. Staring at your reflection in the mirror. You did this almost every day.

You hated your body, since it wasn't even yours. You truly didn't want to look at it, you were struggling to tear your eyes away. You just hated it so much. You just wanted to take the scissors and cut off everything that shouldn't be there.

Being born in a body that was never yours. It was like prison.

The tears started rolling down your cheeks. This was nothing new to you. crying was almost a daily routine at this point.

"Dear, are you ready to go?"

You heard the static voice of your boyfriend from the other side of the door.

"Shit" you whispered to yourself as you hurriedly went to put on your binder but thats not so easy.

You were staring hatefully at your body for too long apparently.

You were struggling to put on your binder when Alastor opened the door. The moment he entered you got it on but it was of no use. He has seen it. The prison you were born in.

He was standing there in the door. The smile fell from his face.

"Darling?" He asked.

"...please leave." You managed to whisper.

You never told him. You were scared that he would leave you.

However even though you never said it directly he knew. He knew because he had the tendency to over analyze everyone and so after some time he figured it out.

He knew the basic concept of being trans. He worked in the radio business after all he has met trans people. However the moment he noticed that you, his lovely boyfriend, were born as the gender which you aren't he started to get deeper into the subject.

He learned everything that is about transitioning, body dysphoria and most importantly, how to help with these.

Alastor surprised himself truly, he has never done this much for someone, but you, you were so important to him. He has never loved anyone as much as he loves you (perhaps his mother).

Alastor always believed that what a person looked like or presented themselves as had nothing to do with their value or personality, in fact he found the whole idea of connecting looks to self worth foolish. Male, female, neither, both it didn't matter to him much.

"My love" he proceeded to walk over to your kneeling form.

"Can my lovely boyfriend look at me" he said as without the static in his voice.

This got your attention and you looked up at him, he was wearing a small smile, not his usual grin, a smile that said: everything is ok.

Your eyes were red from crying as you looked up at him. The moment he noticed that his eyebrows wrinkled.

"Oh, dear, we cannot have that" he said at last as he lifted you off the ground (with the help of a little magic lets face it the man is a twig) and sat down with you in his lap on your bed.

"My darling, you do know I love you, yes?" He asked.

You hesitantly nodded your head.

"Lovely, then you also know that I love every part of you no matter what, you will be a gorgeous man in my eyes with or without female body parts, hmmm?"

You didn't answer to that.

"Well, now you know. I am aware that what you youngsters call 'body dysphoria' is. A major problem for you do not think I don't know how much you cry."

You looked up at him in shock, you were always so careful to be quiet.

"In fact that is why we were going to go out today I was going to get an answer out of you" he chuckled a bit.

"However, I think perhaps staying in is a better option for tonight?" He looked at you questioningly.

You nodded again.

With that confirmation Alastor hugged you even closer to him and laid down on your bed with you clinging to him.

"My handsome boy." He said

He hugged you and kissed your forehead. He started singing quietly with the static back in his voice, he knew you found it calming.

His singing was lovely, it was slowly luring you to sleep. Before you fell asleep you mumbled a 'thank you' to which he gave another kiss to your forehead as you drifted off, feeling loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you guys enjoyed (especially u @coffeewithcocoa) I just wanna say as a last word to every trans person out there that remember you deserve love and are worthy of affection.

Love you all have a great morning/night/afternoon💗

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown, losers bracket (Round 1)

Propaganda:

For Hershel Layton:

For a professor of archeology he wins a LOT of swordfights. why is he so skilled at the blade. why do these games include so many sword fighting cutscenes. why has no one else talked about this. 

He swordfought what he thought was a vampire while tripping on hallucinogenic gas and won. He also swordfought a crazy guy on top of a giant robot with nothing but a metal pipe. King tbh. As for the gay part: he is bisexual TO ME.

For Jade:

A badass lady in love with a badass princess. Damn RIGHT!

More Jade Propaganda: (mod note: this section is from a reblog and all from one person)

Jumps off the edge of the world to follow her girlfriend, who also jumped off the edge of the world.

Out of the three braincells that the Questies collectively own, Jade always has two. (Willow likes to think he has more, but I’m not so sure.)

So tired. So very tired. Please give this girl a break, a therapist, and some rational peers.

Guys, she is named after a sword. I don’t know if that matters, but….still.

Crazy repressed, and fighting like hell to hold onto her last shred in sanity. You can see in pretty much every scene that she is *this* close to losing it, but never does.

She is “totally, ridiculously, desperately, in love” with Kit.

But not so much that she wouldn’t choose her own dreams. I think that this is a really important part of her character, the way that once she knows what she wants, she goes after it. Whether is it to be a Knight if Galladorn, to rejoin her family, or to pursue the butch princess who gives new meaning the concept of a dumbass, Kit.

THE PINING! Oh my word, the PINING!

She sometimes just decides that it would be more fun to smash a troll’s head in with her pommel, instead of using her blade, and I appreciate that in a character.

She is a protector- through and through.

She is the archetype of the devoted knight, and does it SO well!

We only got 8 episodes of Jade, but she has completely re-wired my brain. I haven’t seen the dragon prince, which is now on my list, and I am thrilled to learn all about this disabled butch badass. However, I wanted to offer a bit more propaganda for my girl, Jade.

[that-ari-blogger]

Connection (Reaching Out)

In the wind up into a series’ final arc, episodes tend to feel janky. As if they are trying to pad out the series or are unsure whether the arc has started or not. As a rule, these tend to be below average in so far as quality goes.

The Owl House, however, exists by subverting expectations, so these episodes are some of its best. Reaching Out, for example, uses the plot limbo to tell a focused story that is by far my favourite episode of the series, as well as being one of my favourite stories ever put to screen.

This episode deals with family first and foremost, specifically through the lenses of grief and legacy. It’s about memory and tradition, as well as connection and love.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (The Owl House)

The Owl House has a very specific style of story that it likes to tell.

This is different from genre, and part of why I dislike that concept. It’s simultaneously more broad and more specific. The series plays around in fantasy and horror, it takes inspiration from classical epic fantasy as well as shonen anime, it’s a satire of itself.

But that’s just the breakdown of genre, The Owl House’s style of story is centred around quests and humour. Episodes give you a problem that can be tangibly fixed, and either find a solution or work towards it, Understanding Willow gives you a magical accident and a spell to fix said magical accident. It’s self-contained and questy. "Go do x." "Find y." "Bring back the golden hoop of hoopiness." Etc.

This episode does things differently, in the sense that I challenge you to find a tangible solution to the problem of grief and physical distance. Even in The Owl House, dead people stay dead, and there is no foreseeable way to get home within the next day. You can’t fix that; you just have to find a new way of doing things.

It will not have escaped your notice that the episode’s opening scene is the shortest in the series, and that is because it doesn’t need to be longer.

A cold open needs to do one thing and one thing only. It needs to establish the plot of the upcoming episode. It’s a tidy way of getting across the core conflict to come, and let the audience know what they are in for.

This is the issue I have with Batman Beyond, but it’s a minour issue and not the point, so I’ll leave that for a future post.

Reaching Out opens with an event reminder. The scene has no words in it, but it is sold entirely by the acting. The animation conveys the emotions going through Luz’s mind perfectly, and it’s unclear. Guilt, fear, sadness, its ambiguous to allow for a sense of mystery, but you do know that she doesn't feel good about whatever this may be.

Then she presses “Ignore”, and the scene ends.

That’s the entirety of the cold open, any more would feel cluttered, and yet you know exactly what kind of story you are in for. This will be an episode about Luz’s relationship with her mother and will provide detail into how Luz handles her own issues.

That jacket is a gift in this context from Eda. It may be Luz's technically, but this scene sets up Eda giving it to her to help her. Now Luz has a gift from a maternal figure, its a proxy that she will cling to over the course of the episode.

When the episode actually begins, Luz procrastinates on doing the thing she probably needs to do by making a list of everything else in the world that she would rather be doing. So, we get the defining conflict of the episode spelled out more specifically. She’s avoiding something. You could have got that from the opening, but now we get a little insight into why.

“Every year, me and Mom have this little ritual we do. It's nothing big. I just miss her. That's all.”

This episode has a slow burn to it, revealing more and more of the details of this ritual over time. It’s framed as a discovery, which works with the idea of the audience slowly discovering things about Luz.

I want to dwell a little more on the animation of this episode for a moment. I promise I’ll try to talk about other stuff as well, but this episode is just gorgeous to look at.

Luz doesn’t stop moving until the confession. She’s frantic, but in a really smooth way that I find rather interesting. In just the above shot, she flows from one thought to the next, from one action to another.

This creates a feeling of momentum that diminishes over the course of the scene. It’s dynamic, like the series as a whole, but it's slowing down to something slower paced signifies the episode’s decision to focus in on something small.

“What you need is a healthy distraction from your problems.” “I have a problem, and it could distract us all day!”

That’s a very specific word choice to happen twice in twenty seconds, it's almost as if the there’s a theme going on here, and there is. Luz is seeking that distraction from her issue.

Which brings me to the subject of said issue, the grief ritual.

According to a Psychology Today article titled “The Power of Rituals to Heal Grief”:

“Rituals are an important way for people to find meaning when they lose a loved one. Everyone is familiar with rituals. Perhaps you’ve performed them during holidays, in church, or even before ballgames. You may have performed rituals to acknowledge important life changes—graduations, retirements, and even funerals... The power of rituals lies in their symbolism. Consider the ritual of graduation. Walking across a stage and shaking someone’s hand is no big deal as an act in itself. We walk all over the place and shake people’s hands all the time. But this act takes on special meaning when it’s performed at graduation, symbolizing an important transition.”

A grief ritual is crystalised emotion, allowing you to act upon it and let the pain out in a healthy way. In Luz’s case, the picking of flowers brought about a connection between her and her mother. The two grieved together, and now their physical difference means that Luz doesn’t have anyone who understands her pain exactly to share the moment with.

Enter Amity, and I want to cover that scene last, because I believe it to be the series’ magnum opus, and it needs some more build up.

Please remember that this guy helped with the experimentation on the Basilisks. He wasn't just complicit; he was an active participant. Remember that when talking about Warden Wrath.

Amity is going through what I hesitate to call a generic The Owl House plot, but it's definitely something more in the series’ general wheelhouse. She has identified two problems, those being a rift between her and her father, and the decision that was made for her about joining the emperor’s coven; and she has decided upon a solution, win the Bonesborough Brawl.

This is achievable and presents room for hijinks. Its self-contained. But it’s also an example of how well The Owl House handles theme exploration.

Each episode of the of this series has an idea that it wants to explore, and every plot point within it delves into something about that theme. In this case, it’s connection and drifting apart. Amity is drifting away from her father, Luz can’t get to her mother, and the two of them are being driven away from each other by Luz’s increasingly desperate attempts to distract herself.

You would think that grief is a secondary theme here, but it’s not. Connection is a facet of grief as an overarching idea. That’s why this is about grief rituals rather than just the feeling of loss.

The article I mentioned earlier has a passage that goes into this concept in more detail, but from a slightly different perspective.

“For Donald, this ritual was meaningful because it shared his great love of nature with his dad. For his father, it was meaningful, because it kept a piece of his son alive and well. Eventually, Donald passed away. To this day, however, his father visits the preserve four times a year, once for every season. There, he speaks to his son, takes a few pictures, and doesn’t show them to anyone.”

It's about connection to the deceased, with the person gone by. It’s a way of communing with the only thing left of that person, their legacy.

Which reframes Alador a bit here doesn’t it. He’s set up as a mirror to Manny, and yet he’s still alive. Except, is he?

In a physical sense, yes. But the person whom Amity wants to connect with is long gone at this point. Young Alador and Old Alador are very different people, specifically in terms of agency. Young Alador acted, Old Alador reacts.

So, Amity tries her own ritual to connect with the Alador that once was. Alador gets to see this and is forced to think for a moment. Suddenly, his world has been rocked just far enough for him to start listening.

The conversation is all well and good. But for my money, the look of abject pride on Alador's face here sells the connection more than anything. This is someone who, for the first time, has looked at what his daughter is rather than what he wants her to be, and he is proud of what he sees.

“What? You don’t want to join the Emperor’s Coven anymore? But that’s always been your dream.” “No, that’s always been Mom’s dream. And you went along with it. I bet you didn’t even know I was dating Luz!” “Edalyn’s kid?” “See, you don’t talk to us anymore! You’re too busy making these monsters for the Emperor, and Mom’s been too busy trying to dye my hair green.”

Turns out, when you stop listening to your kids for a while, you miss things. Your assumptions might be wrong. Your understanding of who they are might be way off the mark.

That’s what Alador realises here, that the thing he’s been trying to connect with his daughter over was never truly there. So, he takes a different approach.

“I like your new hair colour. Its abomination coloured.” “Finaly someone gets it. Can you tell Mom that?” “I’ll talk to her.”

The hair dying has been a symbol of agency for Amity over the course of the series. It was green as she sought her mother’s approval, then that faded and she was given the choice of what to do, and she chose the pink. It’s an expression of her own wants and desires, and she wants to be like her father.

Alador’s new approach isn’t to bond with his daughter over expectations, its to take an interest in something she does, and find common ground there.

I like the act of reaching for a hug and getting subverted. The relationship has mostly collapsed, and they’re now rebuilding it almost from scratch.

“It’s a start.”

Connection, relationships, love, loss. We have some key themes, let’s get into that tree scene.

I’m not going to give you the entire scene here, watch the episode. Writing out the words doesn’t have nearly the same impact as the stellar voice acting.

Instead, I want to highlight how this episode achieves its nuance, and that is through the grief rituals that I have kept mentioning. Any story can talk about how loss makes someone feel, but this doesn’t mention that at all. Instead, it highlights how the physical separation interrupts with the process.

Luz’s grief centres around sharing that emotion with her mother, she expresses it through the practiced motion of picking flowers with someone else who can share her pain.

“I don’t know what rituals you have in the Human Realm, but, I’ll help you pick some flowers, and we can do something here!”

Amity doesn’t know what Luz is going through, but she can empathise. She can see her girlfriend is going through something and help her out. She can take the place in the ritual and allow Luz to grieve.

Love isn’t about the good times, it’s about everything. Love is about joy and heartbreak and triumph and loss. Its about sharing emotions together, lifting each other to new heights, and supporting each other in the lowest moments.

The episode doesn’t give us a fix to its issue. Luz is still separated from her mother, but it gives us a substitute, and that leans in to a theme I haven’t really mentioned yet at all in my coverage of the series, distance.

Yes, the obvious of Luz being away from home and wanting to get back has been a core part of the plot, but the series hasn’t really engaged with what that means up until now.

Sometimes distance separates people, whether it be through forced movement, or just the twists and turns of life. And sometimes that comes in the way of rituals like this. Do you bottle up the emotions until you get back? No. You find a new way of doing thing, you adapt, you change. You find the light.

Light, do not faulter.

Final Thoughts

This episode also establishes lore for how the Wild Witches work, specifically through that idea of connection again. The Wild Witches are a group of people who accept and protect each other, you don’t have to be skilled at anything to be a Wild Witch, you don’t have to meet any criteria. Which is good, because Edric is awful at potion magic. But that’s not the point, the point is that he has an interest in going outside the box, the point is the effort not the execution.

Considering how the Emperor made wild magic illegal, the Bad Girl Coven takes on a ton of queer/pride coding. They support each other because nobody else will. Anyone who slips through the cracks has a home in the Bad Girl Coven. Just like pride, where there isn't a bar at a parade that says: "you must be this gay to enter", it's about accepting everyone for who they are.

Next up is Them's The Breaks, Kid, so stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[braveclementine]

Chapter 8

Warnings: None. (Will however be a 18+ reader book)

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"Beach wedding?" T'Challa questioned. "That sounds pleasant, although for you to become part of the Wakandan royalty through marriage, we'll have to do a separate special ceremony. It won't disrupt or affect the marriage bond though, so there's nothing to worry about with that."

The idea of being a Queen was still rather frightening to you.

"Beach wedding, beach wedding." Fury was singing underneath his breath with a slight wiggle of his hips. Well, he was extremely excited about the idea. Apparently he loved the beach so much, the ship that he was visiting with had a simulation so he could pretend he was at the beach.

Your sister bounded into the room, "You're on the news again Y/N!"

You shrunk into the couch you were sitting on. It had been six months since the incident. You had gotten comfortable with every person that you were soulmated to, along with their friends. Your own friends were absolutely enthralled with the idea. All three of them were invited to the wedding as well.

Once the news had gotten ahold that one, the Avengers were finally getting married, and two, it was to the girl in the record book who had eleven bonds, well the news had been covering it for almost three weeks now.

You had quit your job at this point. There was no reason to keep it. Tony kept everything you could possibly needed in the room and if you really, really needed something, he had a special card that you were supposed to use.

You very rarely spent the card. Even if Tony was a billionaire, you weren't entirely okay with spending his money if you really didn't need something.

Tony's voice brought you back to the conversation, "I was thinking that we could move into a large mansion instead of trying to continue to live in the Tower. Especially once we have kids. It would be easier to live in a house instead."

"I agree." Steve said with a nod.

"If it's far from civilization." Fury pointed out.

"Can we move back to the topic of those kids?" You asked.

Everyone looked at you.

"It's just. . . with the kids, are you guys going to care if like. . . you don't have one that isn't biologically yours? Or do you all want one that is yours or. . ." You asked.

"I don't care whose they are." Steve said with a shrug. "I'll raise all of them as my own."

Everyone agreed with that sentiment except for T'Challa. "I agree with that," He started, "However, the King of Wakanda still has to produce an heir. I hope you understand."

You nod. "Yes, of course."

T'Challa seemed relieved that you agreed so readily.

Preparations then moved forward for the wedding. Wanda invited her brother Pietro, since he would be consider family with the rest of us. Thor was inviting someone named 'Rocket' and his 'clan' who were called the Guardians of the Galaxy.

You met Agent Coulson, who was a very nice man. He, Fury, and Hill all did really seemed to get along well.

Loki and Thor were inviting a few people from New Asgard. (pretending they never died) Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Heimdall, and Valkyrie. Also someone people named Korg and Miek.

Clint was inviting his sister Laura and her soulmate and their kids. Sam invited his sister.

You were sure that there would be more than family there, but the biggest question for you was whether or not you invited your father to the ceremony.

You didn't think he'd cause any trouble, but at the same time, it had been a few years since you had last seen him.

"Let's go for a walk." Clint said enthusiastically.

You quickly leaped from the couch to take his hand, leaving the others behind, Sam and T'Challa being the only ones that went with you two.

It was a sunny day out and the three of you strolled across the well tended lawn of Avenger Tower.

"How overboard do you think Tony will go with the house?" You questioned.

Clint snickered, "You should see the house he got for him and Stephen. And that one is just for the two of them."

"I just don't like the idea of him spending to much money, you know?" You said.

"That's how Tony shows he cares. He does it in gifts." Clint explained. "He built Pepper an Iron Woman suit when her and Happy got married. He gave Nat and Bruce a house, smaller by Stephen's standards, but it's nice sized when they got married. Wanda and Vision got a flat in Paris."

You nodded, a little overwhelmed.

Sam lifted you up on his shoulders. "Anyways, I was thinking about kids."

"Me too." You said. "I'm hoping that everyone looks at them as their own."

"I'm sure we will." Clint said, sounding nonchalant about it. "After all, we're all your soulmate. After the bonding ceremony, we'll all be connected. We should expect that to be in our children too. Besides, it's not like you're going to have eleven children, even if we all wanted our own kid."

You laughed, "Yeah, eleven kids is ridiculous."

"Although, it does sound fun." T'Challa admitted. "A huge house, lots of kids running around cheerfully."

"I think at least. . . what, four or five?" Clint asked. "Maybe six. I guess it would depend on how many attempts it takes for you to get your heir."

"I do feel bad about that." T'Challa said quietly. "Unfortunately, Wakandan customs can't be avoided."

"It's alright." You said, resting your chin on the top of Sam's head. "I don't really mind. I'm actually kind've excited to start our family life together. Although the marriage bonding ceremony will probably be exhausting."

Clint chuckled, "Probably."

The marriage bonding was, well, sex. Except you had to bond with all of your soulmates in one night. Which meant eleven orgasms in one night. One from each of them, eleven from you. And you were a Virgin (as most were) so it would certainly be a no walking day the day after.

"Have you decided on whether or not you want to ask your dad to the wedding?" Sam asked up to me.

You shook your head, your chin scratching on the top of his head. "No. I mean, my sister is going to be there and that's really all the family I need. But at the same time, I don't know. Maybe he should be there. I just don't know how Y/S/N would feel about him being there either."

Once you guys had made it down to the pond, you climbed off Sam's shoulders to take off your shoes and socks to dip your feet in. Clint had already done so and Sam was getting ready.

"Scared of water kitty kat?" Sam teased as T'Challa simply stood behind you, your back against his legs.

T'Challa chuckled dangerously. "Cats eat birds little Falcon."

You giggled at their friendly bantering.

"What colour suits are you guys thinking about?" Clint asked sincerely.

"Matching our soulmate bonds." T'Challa said.

You giggled again, "Does that mean Sammy is wearing pink?"

"Oi, brown is a part of that. Pink and brown." Sam pointed out.

"Hey, you're the one that pink is your favorite colour." Clint pointed out as Sam got defensive.

"I can see it." You said, reaching over to touch Sam's shoulder. "One of those crisp pink dress shirts with a brown suit jacket and brown dress pants. Maybe even coffee brown dress shoes. You'll look rather dashing."

"Ooh, you hear that boys. I'm gonna be dashing." Sam grinned.

Clint grinned before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "This is going to be fun."

***

"Y/N, this is Pietro, Pietro, this is Y/N." Tony did the very quick introduction to Wanda's brother.

He looked nothing like Wanda. His eyes were blue, his hair dark before it turned blond. It was wavy and short. He had faint stubble and a facial do like Stephen's, which showed that brown was his natural hair colour. He was a bit taller than Wanda, on the lean and muscular side.

He held his hand out, "Nice to meet you."

His voice was quiet, heavily accented with the Sokovian lilt like Wanda's.

"Likewise." You said.

"Do you have a superpower?" He questioned as the two of you dropped hands.

"She's hits peoples with umbrellas." Tony answered for you, receiving an elbow to the kidneys.

"No." You said, rolling your eyes. "Ignore him."

Pietro grinned. I spent most of the day with him, Wanda, and Clint talking. He told us about how he had met someone named Makkari and they'd had several races, though they weren't sure who was faster.

"Don't suppose you know someone with an Aqua and gold soulmate mark, would you? Or a blue and silver one? Or, this one is strange but it's yellow, red, green, blue, and black." Pietro asked.

You shook your head, "Sorry."

He shrugged, "Oh well, they're out there."

"Maybe you just need to run into the King of Wakanda and go apologize to him." Clint smirked.

You rolled your eyes. "How was I to know he was the King of Wakanda? What was the King of Wakanda even doing in a low part of New York? Not my fault I didn't do a proper apology right then and there."

"Well I'm glad you didn't." T'Challa's voice sounded behind me. He had me sit up so that he could behind me, pulling me flush against his chest. "Cause now we're here."

"Very true." You said, tilting your head back and he pecked your lips sweetly.

"Ew." Clint said like a child before winking at you. You flipped him off.

"I'm sure it's equally ew when she kisses you." T'Challa said, resting his chin on your head.

Clint smirked, "I'm excellent kisser, thank you very much."

Wanda rolled her eyes, "They are constantly comparing themselves."

Pietro shrugged, "Typical male species."

You giggled.

Later that night, dinner was a rather chaotic affair. Tony had doordashed a bunch of food from Panda Express, Larosas, Auntie Annes, Greaters, Papa Johns, and Applebees. This resulted in a large buffet of food while everyone settled in the living room with the first season of Bones on.

Loki and Coulson sat as far apart as the room allowed. Valkyrie sat with him. Fury and Maria sat with Coulson. Tony, Stephen, Rhodey, and a man named Wong were sitting around the coffee table. Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha were sitting on or against the couch. T'Challa, Shur, Okoye, and a few of the other Wakandans he had invited were sitting at the dining room table instead in the adjoining room. Thor was standing around with Volstagg, Hogun, Sif, and Fandral.

Peter was there was well, with his Aunt May, Pepper, and Happy, though only Ned could make it as MJ had some sort of job thing.

Y/S/N was there with Y/S/BF/N, though they were more out of place than the others. Vision, Wanda, and Pietro were talking to them.

And then there were Guardians. There was Peter Quil, also known as Starlord, with his soulmate Gamora and their daughter Nikki. Nebula, who scared you just a little. Drax and Mantis, who were soulmates. Rocket turned out to be a raccoon (maybe?) along with a tree named Groot. There was also a man named Kraglin who had an arrow tucked into his belt.

It was funny. Kraglin seemed almost terrified of Nebula, yet they were soulmates.

Also, it turned out that Gamora and Nebula were both the adopted daughters of Thanos so that just made them a little scarier.

Thor very happily greeted the raccoon and the tree. You could sense some sort of male prideship fight between him and Peter.

Peter Parker greeted Peter Quil. You assumed they were friends.

All in all, it was a very crowded room. And they would all be here for another two months until the wedding preparations were put into plans.

Of course, there were still some people missing according to Fury. Someone named Captain Marvel. You knew she was the one that had snapped the glove to kill Thanos.

Scott and Hope were over in California, visiting Scott's daughter Cassie.

You took your own plate, looking for a place to sit. Stephen motioned to you and you moved to sit between the space that Tony made for you between the two of them. Tony's hand immediately found it's way to your thigh while Stephen held your hand under the table.

You were so busy observing the new comers in the room, you didn't even realize that Tony had asked you a question.

"Sweetheart?" He said and you snapped your head towards him.

"Sorry, what was the question?" You asked quickly.

"Some of your favorite things to do."

"I love camping." You said immediately. "I had a friend when I was young who was in boy scouts and I went on all the camping trips with them and his family. My favorite spot was either at Mammoth Caves, Wright Patterson Airforce base, or Hueston Woods."

Tony seemed surprised, "Camping? Really?"

"Oh yeah. Now that I think about it, Mammoth caves was really my favorite. We stayed on the campground and then we got to explore the caves in tours. It was a lot of fun." You smiled as you thought about all of the memories you had.

"Caves huh?" Tony said, seeming a little pale.

"Yeah." You nodded, "There's a specific tour that we always did whenever we did. I don't remember the name off the top of my head but it took you through something called Fat Man's Misery, which was this tight spot in the cave. But it's not a good tour if you're afraid of the dark or tight spaces."

"Duly noted." Tony said.

The night passed in soft touches between the two of them, funny conversations provided by the Guardians about space, and quick bantering between Loki, Thor, T'Challa, and Sam.

Everything was really starting to feel like home.

⬅️➡️

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c4. The waltz of the Snowflakes.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Harden my heart, Quarterflash.

abstract: he can get fucked, and his captain too. it's Jude if you haven't noticed. I have nothing more to add really, he's an ass and I'm not getting paid enough to deal with this shit, see ya. also, forgive me for the swearing it's a real problem I know!!

Well. That didn't exactly go to plan. Simon Whatever, what the fuck is your problem? She called a friend while driving home. 'Salvo, io gli volevo mettere le mani addosso, stu scemu…’ She was going over the speed limit, holding her phone with one hand. ‘Una merda Salvo, mi hanno mandato via come una cretina, son andata, ho parlato, mi ha detto non si puoi fare guagliù, chi cazz si pe me dicr chell c’agg fa oh!’

Now, to all my readers, I will translate. Jude speaks dialect when she's mad, bare with her. Her voice usually drooped an octave when she spoke it to accommodate the guttural and rough sounds of her language. Swear words that would make your racist grandad cry. She was calling Salvatore, she met him in 2021, he was currently deployed in South Korea. She told him she wanted to hit him, she said, they sent me away without hearing me out, they said what you're suggesting can't be done. 'Scusa, cosa hai proposto tu?' She loved Salvo, he was so understanding, he could read her mind. It was refreshing, when she found out he was from the same country as her. Speaking a bit of Italian with him was a break from all the English, the accents and the words she didn't know how to pronounce. 'Cosa ho detto, ho proposto che lo seguissero, anche grazie al cazzo vorrei dire… ( I refuse to translate all the swearing, Jude.) Questi vogliono aspettare e non fare nulla, però mi fanno perdere tempo con ste cazz'e riunioni!' (This means, 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.')

Salvo tried to reassure her that it wasn't really her problem, to which she replied, Arash was her patient. He asked her about the captain, she commented he stood there, watched her argue with his guard dog Lieutenant without saying a word. Coward, she called him. Who's the Lieutenant, he then asked. She told him, maybe she messed up the name a bit, but he seemed to recognise him. 'No, veramente?' He asked. 'Il Fantasma'. That made sense, you know, the mask an all. He told her he was quite famous for his mask and his story, which he didn't fully know. Lots of trauma I think, you could work with him. She parked her car in front of the dance school and got her bag. 'Non me ne fott, possono fare quello che vogliono, non sono io che ci rimetto. Lui nu strunz, fammi dire…' She explained she didn't care anymore and that they could do whatever they wanted. He was a dick, that's what she added, probably referring to the famous Lieutenant.

The girls could sense she wasn't having the best day and didn't want to mess with her. They stood quiet and avoided their usual chatting. They did warm up, barre and some center, she sent them off early. 'Miss Alba, we're gonna start rehearsals soon? For the Nutcracker.' It was Luna that spoke. She almost forgot. 'Yes girls next time.' Shit.

The Waltz of the Snowflakes. That's what she was gonna have to teach them. The owner of the school was crazy, the piece was way too difficult for her class. She didn't have time or strength to explain the piece was not meant for girls that young, she would have to simplify it. She put on a video on her laptop, trying to remember the best she could the original piece. She stripped of her leg warmers and her black shrug. Her mind kept wandering off the meeting with Price, not letting her concentrate. She was mad. Not because she didn’t get her way, they were the ones dying in the Middle East, not her. But because it was fucking humiliating. As a woman as well, you know. Maybe she made a mistake, going in there looking all pretty. But again, why would she sacrifice herself just to earn some basic respect? After she failed her pirouettes for the third time, she decided it was time to go home. She would talk to Arash and, if needed, follow him on her own.

notes: Since this is a shorter chapter (I've been incredibly busy with uni and work), here are some details about Jude:

height: 5’2’’ - eye colour: green - hair colour: blonde

traits: mole on her cheek, slightly crooked nose. mole on her right butt cheek, scar on her knee. at least 30 smaller moles all over her body. small boobie queen.

if she was a colour: dark blue

if she was an animal: killer whale

if she was a place: a forest

if she was a food: spicy pho - motto: for the plot

favourite position in bed: on top/doggy

favourite part of her body: eyebrows, hips

what she looks for in boys: loyalty, someone stable, good manners, honesty.

tattoos: big flower on her back, her grandmas house on ribcage with ivy on it, lavander flower between breasts, dagger on right arm, wine glass and whisky sour ingredients. nike (goddess of victory) statue on left arm, goth looking stars and white ferrari doodle. oui, non written on both knees. heaven written on ankle made with stick and poke needle.

loves to talk about: time, space, her dog, humanity, world wars, greek mythology, vegan recipes, life after death.

do not talk about: her family, weight, fire, not being the best in school and at work.

she would like to: try hotpot, paint pottery, start a podcast, go on more hikes, visit thailand, get another dog, attend a wedding.

she will never: have kids, get married, go to australia, go skiing again after she fell, have plastic surgery, drink beer.

if you’d like to know more stuff about her let me know!!

notes: Salvatore, Salvo for short, is a common southern Italy male name. Salvatore means 'the saviour', Salvo means 'safe'. Full translation of the speech: 'Salvo, I wanted to hit him, this fucker. It went to shit Salvo, they sent me away like I was stupid, I went there I told them what I thought, he said we can't do that, who the hell are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?' 'Sorry, what did you say to them?' 'I told them to follow him, obviously. They don't want to do anything, they want to wait and see, and yet they make me go out of my way for these fucking meetings.'

'No, veramente? Il Fantasma' means 'no, seriously? The Ghost.'

notes: if you want to hear what the dialect sounds like you can hear it in the tv series 'Gomorra' on YouTube.

taglist:

@ummmmmwat @ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[sailorsplatoon]

New dedfour chapter incoming!!! This one's a little more mundane, but it's important to the storyline!

First (prologue)

Previous

Next

Read it on ao3!

(Fanfic under cut)

“I found my way into the Deepsea Metro because I was trying to find a club to DJ in. I guess my music eventually caught the attention of…” Acht’s voice trailed off and they waved their hand in the air, trying to indicate who they meant rather than say the actual name of the telephone that had controlled them, as if they might resurrect it from the dead. “It offered for me to be able to focus on nothing but my music. I was kind of doing that already, so I said yes. I can’t really remember much after that, but then I showed up here and I was myself again.” Four listened attentively. They’d been talking about what the two of them had been through for some time now. Neither were ready to leave 21F. Pearl, Marina, and Eight seemed content to stay as well.

“How do I know that I chose the right world? Like, there’s one side of me that’s screaming for order and one that’s screaming for chaos and I can’t tell which one is real.”

“There is no one that’s the right one, just different parts of your life. Being sanitized, or I guess greyscaled in your case, is just going to be a part of you now. It’s hard to accept that something bad and scary happened and that you’re never going to be the same afterwards, but if you can’t come to terms with that then you’re just stuck in this in between space. What you have to decide is which version of you is the one you want to be. It doesn’t matter which one is right or wrong, just that you’re happy.”

“Are you happy?”

“Oh that’s a big question. I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out together.” Acht stood up and offered Four their hand. They took it and Acht pulled them up. “Let’s get back to the elevator. We’ll keep climbing and you’ll be able to get more of your memories back.”

“Yeah!” Four smiled. They bared their teeth when they did, and their entire face seemed to light up. Acht felt their hearts thumping in their chest. That was new, most of the time their organs didn’t work at all. They didn’t even need to breathe, yet right now they felt short of breath. They could only hope Four didn’t notice their palms sweating. What was happening to them? Sanitization was a total loss of emotion, but now Acht felt the exact opposite— a rush of every feeling in the world all at once.

The two entered the elevator and Acht pressed the button for the next floor. Four and Pearl left moments later to begin the challenge. 

“Marina? Can I ask a question?” Acht typically wouldn’t go out on a whim like this, but they needed answers.

“Sure thing, Acht. What do you need?” Marina seemed excited. She knew whatever Acht needed to ask would be really interesting.

“How do you know you’re in love with Pearl?”

“Oh where do I begin! Being around Pearlie makes me feel better than I do when I’m with anyone else. It’s like I can really open up around her. Just thinking about her makes me blush. She always knows exactly how to make me happy and she cares about me so much. And when she sings it feels like my heart is singing in harmony with hers! And her eyes are some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. And when she sets off her Killer Wail…” Acht had slowly stopped listening. They should have known Marina would end up talking about Pearl endlessly. 

As if summoned by Marina’s gushing, Pearl and Four came back into the elevator.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?” Pearl did a little flip as she entered the lift. Four followed close behind.

“You and how wonderful you are.” Marina smiled at the drone.

“Aww well if you’re gonna talk about me then I guess I have to talk about how wonderful you are.”

“Here we go again,” Acht thought as they pressed the button for 23F. Again, the elevator dinged and Pearl and Four left to complete the floor.

“Soooooo Acht! Why did you want to know how I know I love Pearl?” Marina asked.

“No reason. Just curious.” Acht tired to dodge the question. 

“No I think there’s a very good reason. Acht do you think you might be… ooh I’m too excited to say it. Eight, help me out here!” Marina squealed.

“Are you in love with Agent 4?” Eight grinned. He was a sucker for a good romance.

“Hey look I think Pearl and Four are almost done.” Acht looked out the elevator doors at the two. They were no where near done, but Acht needed something to distract Marina and Eight.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation so easily. We can pause for now, but this isn’t over,” Marina said before turning her attention to Pearl just as she set off a Killer Wail.

“That sounds like a threat.” 

“Maybe it is.” Eight flashed a mischievous smirk. It seemed like he was getting more comfortable around Acht. They weren’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Does it even matter if I like them or not?”

“Of course it matters! Acht, you have to tell them how you feel.” Marina emphasized each word.

“I haven’t felt anything in a long time, Marina. How do I know if the way that I’m defining this is even right?” Acht was very ready to be done with this conversation. But at the same time, the thought of telling Four they love them made Acht’s hearts thump even harder than they already were.

“You remember your brother, right? And your dad?” Marina pressed.

Acht was silent.

“It’s not the same kind of love, but you still love them. You know what love feels like, Acht. And I know that you don’t fall in love easily, you have to have the right person. I think Agent 4 is your right person.”

As Marina finished her sentence, Pearl and Four came back into the elevator.

“Welcome back you two.” Acht rushed their words.

“Four absolutely rocked that floor, they took down those Jelletons like it was nothing!” Pearl was enthusiastic. Now that Four had most of their personality back, they were way more fun to fight alongside. “Let’s head to the next floor and get them back out there, they’re on a roll!”

“Great, let’s get you to 24F.” Acht clicked the button and the elevator continued onward.

As Four set their chip into their palette, they jumped slightly in surprise. “Holy fuck!” they shouted before turning to face Eight and wrapping their arms around him. “I’m sorry I forgot about you. And I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

Eight hugged Four back, saying, “It’s okay. I missed you.” Acht couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how affectionate Four was towards him.

The two let go of each other and Four turned to Pearl and Marina. “I remember the both of you now too. I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Agent 4. What happened wasn’t your fault at all. If anything I should be the one apologizing.” Marina twisted the bottom hem of her jacket.

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t try to murder all of you.”

“And that doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault.”

“I don’t blame you at all.” Four gave a small, sad smile before looking over at Acht. “I still don’t—”

“You wouldn’t.” Acht interrupted. “We’ve never met before. I’m Acht. I know we’ve already done introductions, but you’re more you now.”

“Nice to meet you, Acht, I’m Four. And thank you for all your help earlier.”

Acht didn’t know what to say for a moment. Then they muttered, “You’re welcome.”

[andreal831]

Idk if you’ve ever spoke about this but in a world where Hope was raised by her family, how do you think she would’ve turned out as opposed to how she is in canon? Also what issues do you think she’d have - because no child raised by Klaus Mikaelson , let alone the rest of their family - would be without issues?

I've talked about this briefly, but never in depth.

But this brings up a nature v. nurture debate in me. I do think a lot of Hope is just who she is. But we can't deny how her life shapes her.

The first time in canon we ever get a sense of Hope's personality is when we meet her as a seven year old, who is being raised by Hayley alone. Hope is a gentle, sensitive, and caring girl. I do think that is the baseline for Hope.

However, if she had been raised with all of the Mikaelsons, I can't help but feel that she would be corrupted slightly. We met Marcel briefly as a child and he was also a sweet and caring child. However, the Mikaelsons made him like them. Marcel was still caring, but there was an edge to it. He was willing to starve and imprison his best friend for betraying him. He was willing to lock Davina, a child, up for his own gain. He was willing to unleash a horde of vampires on New Orleans to defeat his enemies (the Mikaelsons). He was willing to hurt those he claimed to love for power. Marcel became a Mikaelson through and through. The same thing would have happened to Hope.

Legacies, from what I've seen, loves to talk about Hope being Klaus' daughter, but in reality, canon Hope is Freya and Hayley's daughter. And not even the Freya we first met, but the Freya they turned her into after they killed Cami off. Being raised by them and feeling abandoned by the rest of her family really shaped who she became. For better or worse.

I also have trouble with this question because it depends what version of Klaus stuck around. We saw various different versions of Klaus as a father, but one thing was consistent is that he wasn't a very good father. He wanted to be, but let his fear and quest for power interfere. Even when he was around for Hope's life, we see him often handing Hope off to Freya or Elijah or Jackson and Hayley or just vaguely to the bayou.

But, for arguments sake, let's say he was actively invovled in raising Hope. He would spoil her and teach Hope that the world owed her everything. We would have seen a much more entitled Hope. She would still be caring underneath, but like Marcel would feel that she was owed more than she was given and do questionable things to get there.

I do think Elijah would try to temper this more, he saw what his hands off approach did to Kol, Klaus, and Rebekah. Elijah and Hayley would have had to be the disciplinarians, constantly fighting Klaus and his inability to actually parent. I would hope that we would still see Elijah realizing that the pressure he put on Hope as a baby was too much and he would be able to tell her that earlier than he did in canon.

We also wouldn't see Hope feeling the pressure the way she did because their wouldn't be the sacrifices. Hope's point system she kept was because she felt like she had to make the Mikaelsons' sacrifice worth it. That she had to be worth it. No sacrifice, no pressure. Even if Elijah didn't realize his mistake, there would be nothing telling Hope that it was her job to "save" Klaus.

This is good, but also would just feed into the entitlement with nothing to temper her out. Rebekah and Kol would also spoil her, encouraging her problematic behavior. Freya, even in canon, often viewed Hope as an adult rather than a child, letting her make decisions that she was too young to be making.

But the saving graces would be the in-laws and Hayley. We see Hayley really mature as a mother. Part of this is likely because she was doing it on her own, but I think she would still have this growth with the Mikaelsons, encouraging them to have their own growth. Cami would have forced Klaus to confront his issues that made him a questionable father and showed him how problematic his techniques of parenting were. Davina would have been one of Hope's biggest advocates, knowing how much pressure was on Hope. Same with Marcel. He knew how much the Mikaelsons broke him and he wouldn't let them do that to Hope. Keelin would also have pointed out all of their problematic behavior, never letting them get away with it.

Hope would have been similar to the Rebekah we met in TVD. Kind of a bratty teenager who has a good heart underneath it all. She would grow and mature and hopefully find her own footing outside of the Mikaelsons. She would also be less afraid of the "darkness" inside of her because there wouldn't be the lingering ghost of the Mikaelsons hanging over her. They would just be her family. Instead of learning of them from books and people who hated them, she would be able to form her own opinions. She would learn to embrace all parts of herself as she got older.

Thanks for the ask!

[plussizefantasia]

The Black Queen

Summary: An evening at Prince Thor's naming day ball, leaves you with a conflicted head, and heart.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Wordcount: 1k

A/N: This is for @salenorona23 who left me a request. I'm thinking of doing a part 2 but only if people would read it, so let me know in the comments.

_________________________________________________

Your very being exudes power. You are a queen. You command armies. You rule an entire realm. This is apparently intimidating to some men; the type of men who demand respect without doing anything to earn it. The ones who want a woman to live in their shadows, the ones who want a maid, not a life partner. 

However you needed a consort, the laws of your realm were very clear and very hard to change, you had tried. So for the past several years of your life, you had been searching, not necessarily for love, you weren’t foolish enough to believe that love was something you’d ever have but you at least wanted someone you didn’t hate. Lords from all over the nine realms had come to attempt to win over your favor. The issue you faced was weeding out the ones who saw you as nothing more than a stepping stone to their own throne. 

Like this idiot. 

“So what other things do you do? Needlepoint? Knitting perhaps,” the snide man whose name you never bothered to learn asks. You were growing increasingly more frustrated the more this man talked to you. You were in attendance for a ball being thrown on Asgard, Prince Thor’s naming day ball as well as a celebration of the Warriors Three’s latest victory. You were dressed in finery, a silken gown in a deep blue color cascading down your body. The dress had sheer scooping sleeves which rested parallel to your collarbones. Running up your forearms were matching arm braces, they were metal and looked entirely decorative depicting the image of shooting starts intertwined with one another, but could be used to deflect a blade if need be. Speaking of blades you had several hidden on your body, and were growing ever more tempted to use one on the insufferable man next to you.

“I think it’s just wonderful that women have found things to do to occupy their time, one must get so bored waiting at home all the time.”

“I’m afraid My Lord, that I do not often have the pleasure of indulging myself in hobbies, I am much too busy ruling my kingdom. But I should hope that whoever I shall marry will have their own ways to occupy their time. When they wait for me at home as you put it.”

Alas, your blades were not needed this time as the man sputtered and excused himself when your words reached him.

“Who needs blades when you have barbs that sharp” a voice called from behind you.

“I take pride in my ability to handle fools, as I’m sure you do as well.” You turned your torso slightly to be able to get a better look at the raven-haired man to your left. “They call you silver-tongued do they not, Prince Loki?”

The Prince raised his eyebrow in your direction wetting his lip with his tongue. “It is one of my titles, yes.” He smirked in a roguish way while making his way towards you. In one hand he held a goblet, full of what you can only assume to be wine. “I seem to recall they call you the Black Queen if I’m not mistaken.” His tone was sultry in a way that sent shivers up your spine.

“I have not heard that name in years, it's a shame, I was quite fond of it.” In a brazen move that you might scold yourself for later, you grab the goblet out of his hand and take a sip. Mead. the sweetness hits your tongue and causes a smile to involuntarily spread across your face. 

“It is lovely to meet someone interesting at one of these things, usually I turn to making mischief to entertain myself.” The raven-haired prince said.

“Well, I’m happy to amuse you, your highness” You responded. “Although I suppose I should be spending my time trying to find a suitor, as was my intention when I arrived.”

He raised an eyebrow at this, “A suitor? But don’t you already have a throne?” He questioned, genuine curiosity bleeding through his words.

“That I do, but the laws of my kingdom are clear, I must find a consort and soon if I were to remain in power.” It wasn’t like you to divulge this much information, especially to someone you had just met. But something about the Prince made him easy to talk to, which was dangerous in more ways than one.

“And who, may I ask, will take the throne if this fails to happen.” He tilted his head to the side and his eyes bore into your own. The green pools full of something mysterious, something alluring, something disastrous. 

“I am my father’s only heir. If I were to be forced to forfeit the throne, the custom in my kingdom is a tournament. The lords will fight amongst themselves with the weapon of my choosing until one is victorius, he will be named king. And as much as I would love to witness the lords fighting to the death, I would much rather keep my crown.” You explained.

“My brother, the blonde oaf fumbling about the other side of the ballroom, is also looking for a suitor. It might be worth pursuing, you both are heirs to your own thrones and while he may be dull, you’ll not find a better option. Besides, he’s not looking for love, only a match that will stop Father from pestering him. I’d imagine you’re somewhat the same in that regard.” Loki’s words caused you to pause. Never in a millenia would you have throught that he would offer Thor instead of himself. From what you’ve heard he was very self-serving. You heard of his play to take the crown and while his attempt had failed you would’ve thought he’d vye for yours once he knew it was possible.

“You seem a strong ruler, I’d hate for you to lose your crown becuase of a foolish law.” He took his goblet out of your hand and began to turn away. You let him

Your mind was muddled, and you had no idea what to think. You could not deny the attractiveness of the younger prince, he was witty and cunning and very very handsome. It also seemed that he respected you, thought of you as a good leader and wished the best for you. In a few short moments he had contradicted everything you had evr heard of him. You were left with one thought reigning over all the others in your mind.

Thor was not the prince you wanted.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

[instead fic title here when I finally think of one]

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who out her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @ethereal-maia @cartoon-clifford

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's sa references (not explicit), ptsd references, descriptions of blood and wounds (not very graphic), discussions of death, religious trauma, drug abuse, and a very short implication of suicidal thoughts (not explicit or graphic)

Chapter 4 - Maya

Maya had been 13 when she met Celina. She’d been in the city for just over a year and her Kerch was still rough around the edges; there are lots of words that 13 year old girls aren’t supposed to learn, and she had not yet learnt them when she arrived, confused, empty, and alone, on the doorstep of Yennefer Baars. Yen used a lot of words Maya didn’t know yet.

On Maya’s first night, it had been 17-year-old Celina who snuck into her room to dry her tears. It had been Celina who held back Maya’s hair the first time she was given drugs and spent the early hours of the morning bent over a sick bucket. It had been Celina who bandaged cuts on Maya’s arms and sat on the floor with her all night when Maya couldn’t face getting back into the bed. There were at least 30 girls at the Tulip Mill, Maya didn’t know them all, but she and Celina were the only Fjerdans. They were noticed in the parlour for their white blonde hair, for their porcelain skin, for their long limbs and tall backs. They were noticed by Fjerdan soldiers who wanted the illusion of a marriage, by men who like the idea of turning a modest Fjerdan girl into something else, by the Kerch and their fascination with anyone from anywhere else.

Maya was 15 and Celina 19, a man came to the Mill and told Yennefer that he wanted to feel like he was deflowering a modest Fjerdan girl before her marriage. He chose Maya. So Yen told Celina to braid Maya’s hair in the traditional way of unmarried Fjerdan women, and when Celina dared, stupidly, to say such things were sacred, Yen hit her. Then she hit her again. Maya remembered screaming for Celina before a blow landed on her as well, then, for a short time, darkness.

Maya had sat at the vanity in her little room, decorated like some kind of glitzy version of whaler’s cabin - which didn’t even make sense, because Fjerdans didn’t live in the cabins they just stayed in them during season, if they happened to be whalers. Celina stood behind her, fashioning her hair into a crown of braids. After about half the hairstyle had been completed in silence, Celina stopped and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the braids if I think about why you need them. My hands get all shaky. So I’m trying to pretend I’m preparing my little sister’s betrothal braids,”

“Is it working?”

“It feels more like I’m preparing you for burial,”

“You might as well be,” there was silence for a moment, before Maya said: “Perhaps I should find my own way to Djel. I’d rather be with him than be here,”

Celina gasped.

“Maya you cannot say such things! You cannot reach Djel if you take matters into your own hands,”

She continued to braid, pulling Maya’s hair a little. Maya didn’t think it was by accident.

For a while the quiet held between them. Maya watched Celina in the mirror as the braids began to take their final shape.

“Do you think Djel still loves us?” she ventured, finally, as if the words had been forced from her lips.

Even if she wasn’t sure whether she wanted an answer, there was some relief in asking the question out loud. It had been weighing in her chest since the first night.

Celina swallowed.

“Djel will always love us, for as long as we love Him,”

“But we have betrayed him,”

“No,”

“By not saving ourselves have we not failed him? Have we not -?”

“No!” Celina banged her free hand against the table, making Maya flinch so hard that her hair fell from the older girl’s grasp.

Maya had never heard Celina shout before.

Celina turned crimson as she gathered up the dropped hair and tried to fix the part of the braid she’d lost.

“Maya, listen to me,” her voice fell soft again, and Maya closed her eyes to breathe, “You can never fail Djel through something outside of your control. He knows this is not our choice, and he knows that we are good, and that we are devoted. And he knows how hard it is to stay that way when we are so forced to question Him, to question everything,” she finished the plait and knelt to Maya’s side, took her hand, “but because we stay devoted, even now, He will so greatly reward us afterwards,”

But Celina would never get an afterwards.

Maya took a breath. The woman with Inej had not been Celina. She couldn’t be. Maya knew that. She needed to concentrate. She needed to pull herself together. There was a demjin out there that needed to be destroyed, and she couldn’t do that if she fell to pieces every time she saw a Fjerdan girl who looked vaguely like Celina.

Think about better things. Think about killing the demjin.

She didn’t know what Kaz Brekker looked like, but dreams did not need faces. She imagined her fists meeting his stomach, her boot pressed against his neck. She imagined him on his knees, begging her for mercy that she would not give. Maya had already given Celina her revenge, now it was time to get her own.

She was struck by the painful thought that Celina may not have wanted vengeance, and tried to push it away. In the moments they could share, when neither of them were drugged or otherwise occupied, Celina would talk a lot about Djel. Maya didn’t mind that, but she thought that they saw Him differently to each other. Celina believed Djel would forgive her for everything that she had to do at the Mill, and that if she was ever free again it would be like having a clean slate in His eyes. Maya believed Djel demanded penance, but not from her. She could become Djel’s hand, use the gift he had given her to move against the monsters who’d taken his devoted and warped them into this. Because surely if she could ask Djel for forgiveness of this, she could ask him forgiveness of anything? He forgave this, Celina had told her, because they did not have a choice. What other reasons would he let slide? Maya thought revenge was definitely one of them, because she still had no choice. She had to enact this vengeance or it would eat her from inside out, so Djel would understand whatever she chose to do to be rid of it. Wouldn’t He?

Someone was knocking on the door. Maya jumped out of her skin, then with horror realised she’d been crying.

“Maya?”

Inej’s voice.

“I… one second - one…”

“You don’t have to come out, I just wanted to tell you that Fiona is going to be here a little longer than she thought. Are you okay?”

“Still breathing,” Maya called; her head was between her knees and she was panting raggedly, but the statement was technically true.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

She heard Inej’s footsteps recede and threw her head back to lean against the wall.

Perhaps she should let her herself cry. It had been a long time since she’d dared to.

She thought about Celina stood behind her at the vanity, fingers moving slowly through her hair. It felt so long ago. The edges of Celina’s face were starting to feel blurry. Maya could not let that happen. She could not just remember her as blue eyes and blonde hair. She forced herself to think of the arch in Celina’s brows, the little freckle on her forehead. But it always ended with Celina’s blood. On the floor, on Maya’s hands, seeping in long blonde hair splayed out across the tiles.

Maya thought she might throw up. She put her head back between her knees and tried to think of revenge. She would carve her name into Kaz Brekker’s bones.

It would not bring her father back. But for as long as Maya was alive and Celina we still very much dead, she would hunt the demjin to the ends of the earth and beyond. She would find his gang, find some way to eat away at his business, let his empire collapse around him. And then she would… her mind could concoct a thousand different methods of torture, murder. None sufficed. Nothing was good enough for him. But she would find something. She had Djel’s gift, after all.

Perhaps she could drown him from the inside out. She thought that might be possible. There was water everywhere, she just had to find it. If she could pull water from the air already in his lungs… she could barely hold a bubble for more than a few seconds. Maya may know this was Djel’s gift but that didn’t mean all his followers did; she had no training, barely any knowledge of it was she could do. She’d been practically useless in the Grisha workshop of her first indenture - the merch had wanted her to find a way of removing salt from sea water, she supposed so that instead of being so reliant on rivers people became reliant on him. But Maya could not sense the difference between the water and the salt, she could barely lift water from one container to another. She would sit for hours with a container of fresh water and a container of seawater, hands held out above them. She could feel that they were different, but she could not feel the exact edges of what needed to be changed. And then the mercher died, and suddenly water and salt became very distant, very foolish things to be worrying about.

Maya thought of seawater, of Celina’s hands in her hair, of steaming tea in glass mugs, of the smell of blood in the air. She gagged. Djel, was she really going to throw up? She hadn’t done since the first time Yen had made her drink the tea, when she was 13. The steam had risen from the surface in swirling patterns, and still with her little girl’s mind Maya thought they looked like monsters. Yen had leant forward, elbow on the table, chin balanced on her hand. Maya thought Yen was beautiful.

“I heard you struggled last night,” she’d said, voice silk but with something more to it as well, “Clients don’t like it when girls cry. So as a rule, my girls do not cry.”

Maya had nothing to say. It was her second day at the Tulip Mill, she felt hollow and alone and all she could think of was whether Djel would still accept her after what she did the previous night.

“I want to make it easier for you. Drink your tea, my dear. It will help you relax,”

Maya didn’t move for a moment and Yen’s eyes grew hard. She darted to take the cup and lifted it to her lips. It was too hot to drink yet and it burned the roof of her mouth and her tongue, creating a mask for its own bitter taste. She felt like she was being strangled.

“That’s right,” murmured Yen, her voice becoming discordant notes as more and more of the liquid found its way down Maya’s throat, “Deep breaths. Drink up, now. Good girl,”

Maya’s next memory was throwing up, Celina holding back her hair. Maya had cried, but who was there to care?

Images were flashing through Maya’s mind as she tried to breathe; tea in glass cups, someone holding her wrist so tightly her hand went numb, Yen smiling as she called Celina forward, sweat dripping down her neck, a stranger in a black, mercher’s suit. She held on until she couldn’t anymore, until she gagged again and felt herself lurch sideways. Unsure of whether or not she’d meant to, she found herself banging on the door and screaming for Inej.

[martianbugsbunny]

Personally i doubt thor knows loki loves him

U know what I'm gonna take the challenge on this one. Now, this post will only discuss their relationship in the movies before Ragnarok, because I don't really like that movie and I think it did a great disservice to both the characters and their relationship; the brightest and best of them comes from Thor, Avengers, and Dark World in my opinion, so I will be talking about what I love rather than what I have at best apathy for. Sticking it under the cut (it got looooong because I love to think about their dynamic), so if you want my opinion, read on, and if you've seen enough opinions for a lifetime and don't want any more, scrumble away and have a lovely day

Okay so let's start with Thor. In the beginning of that movie, there is absolutely no doubt in Thor's heart that Loki loves him, and here's why: Thor is an arrogant man who is largely blind to the things he doesn't agree with or understand. He has this mentality of other people just being made to love and adore him, because he's the future warrior king of Asgard, he's the golden boy, and because Asgard's people really do love and adore him, so his arrogance is only being confirmed by other people's actions. And of course, there's nobody who should love and adore Thor more than his brother, right?

Now, here's where I want to digress for a minute to talk about how incredibly unhealthy their relationship is. Thor kind of has the same outlook that Loki expresses in Avengers, that people are beneath him, and that's why they should all be looking up to him with awe and praise, and that extends even to his own brother. He tells Loki to mind his place and kind of brushes off his advice, because even though they're brothers and that's the closest anyone could get to being his equal, it's still not enough. Thor views Loki as another person who is beneath him, but who ultimately can't do anything but look up to him and love him.

This is an illusion.

Loki does love Thor. Their relationship, with how complicated and messy it is, only works if they truly love each other, and they do. But it's not the blind, adulating love that Thor expects. It's a jealous, aching love. Loki craves being equal to Thor, a problem that's only exacerbated by the way Thor denies him that position. He craves to be loved as he's assumed to love. And the problem with a love like that is how quickly it can turn. If Thor won't give Loki the affection he needs, then Loki isn't going to show Thor affection the way Thor wants him to, either.

That first movie is in multiple ways a brutal awakening for Thor. He's not the man his father wants him to be. His entire life he's been training to be king and then that future seems like it's been ripped away from him. He has his power and then it's all gone. And his brother, this person around whom he's constructed a narrative of almost reverent adoration, suddenly turns against him, tries to keep him in exile and then to kill him, tries to take the life that was promised to Thor. That looks absolutely nothing like the love Thor has believed Loki feels for him.

I would feel some doubt at that point. I think anyone would. My sibling tried to kill me. Does he still love me? Did he ever love me?

And to add to that natural doubt, Thor doesn't understand Loki. He never really has. He doesn't know what it's like to be, as Loki says later, living in the shade of someone else's greatness, the trickster brother who's never really trusted, let alone lauded. And correct me if I'm wrong, but even by the end of Thor, he doesn't know what really tipped Loki off the deep end. He doesn't know that Loki's just found out he's a Jotun in a land of Asgardians, that he's the very thing he's been brought up to hate and fear, so Thor doesn't understand why Loki is acting so erratically, which must compound the doubt for him. From his point of view it's like a light switch flicked and now Loki's trying to kill him, which increases the did he ever? question. Was it always a facade? And I don't think Thor ever quite realizes the illusion he built around Loki, the difference between his expectations and reality to begin with, so he also wouldn't be seeing that it's not quite instantaneous, that there were years of building resentment and longing that contributed to the tipping point of Loki's changed behavior.

So by the end of Thor, yes, he's got to be wondering if Loki loved him.

But when Thor appears in Avengers, do you remember what plea he makes? He says I grieved for you, I want you to come home. That's not the kind of thing you say to someone you think doesn't care about you. That's a plea to the heart. That's Thor trying to get to the love he knows is in there somewhere, behind everything else that's built up around Loki's heart; that's Thor saying I know you still love me, I don't know what changed, but please let our bond be enough to fix it. Whatever he's been thinking about between the events of those two movies, he's moved past that doubt enough to think maybe Loki's love for him will be enough to bring him home, even if some part of him expects Loki to say no anyway. We know that in the interim he learned of Loki's status as a Jotun, so maybe Thor's even begun to try to understand. Maybe he's been thinking about the fact that life got very hard and very confusing for Loki very suddenly, and he wonders if now that some time has passed, there's a chance Loki wants to come back and work through it with him and their parents. When he says "we were raised together, we played together, we fought together," he's not just trying to convince Loki that he's loved, he's trying to remind Loki of his own love.

Again, during the Battle of New York itself, Thor makes a similar plea. He offers that he and Loki stop the fight together, and his eyes are so incredibly soft when he says it, you know he believes it can still work. That belief comes from knowing there's something in Loki that wants to say yes, something that loves Thor enough to give up his dream of kingdom and stop the invasion. His use of together is interesting not just because he's offering Loki a way out, putting it on the table that Loki can exercise his heart and choose a better path, but also because he's finally putting Loki on the same level he is. We can do this, we can return home, you just have to find some part of you that loves me enough to choose equality with me in this fight over equality with me in having thrones. He also holds back when he's dueling Loki, which is a horrible idea if you actually believe a person has the capacity to kill you, but if you don't believe that, it's an ultimate show of trust. Thor kind of puts his life in Loki's hands by not using his full strength, and only after Loki rejects his offer and stabs him does he finally use more brute force, although it's still not enough to kill Loki or even knock him out. Thor really believes, not just wants to believe, that Loki will not kill him given the chance, that there is something in him that wants to go home, and it's all because Thor, after all his shattered illusions, still believes there is love for him in Loki's heart, even if it has been touched and twisted by anger and pain.

In Dark World, Thor is much more pessimistic when he breaks Loki out of jail. He basically says that his brother is no longer in there, that he won't hesitate to kill Loki if he steps out of line. I think this is important to note because Thor isn't saying I don't believe you love me anymore, he's saying the person who loved me is dead and this shell is all that remains. Thor says he no longer has hope, but he's still clinging to that belief that Loki did love him, in his own way, and he would rather view Loki as dead than let go of it.

But beyond that, there's the fact that he not only lets Loki out of the handcuffs, he gives Loki a knife. Once again, you don't give a weapon to someone you wouldn't trust not to kill you, and you don't trust someone you've had so much tension with not to kill you unless you believe they love you. Loki says "trust my rage" re: Frigga being killed, but I would argue that actually wouldn't go in his favor. Thor has seen what Loki resorts to when he's not processing his emotions in any way other than rage: he attacks Thor, he falls into perfidy, he just lashes out at the closest target. And even despite that, despite having fought Loki in Thor and in Avengers, having witnessed firsthand what destruction Loki was willing to either cause or help facilitate, Thor still gives him a weapon and trusts that Loki isn't going to kill him. There is clearly still a part of Thor that is saying he loves me, he's not going to kill me.

Of course, by the end of that movie, Thor is rewarded in his faith. Loki stabs Kurse to save Thor, and it appears to cost him his life, and as he's dying, what does Thor say? Stay with me. In essence, loving me so much you'll die for me isn't enough, love me so much you'll stay alive for me. It's not a rational thing to say to someone who appears to be bleeding out; a person can't generally stave off death on willpower alone when they've been stabbed in the gut. Thor always ends up speaking to Loki's heart, because he knows that heart is bitter and full of rage and grief but also love, even though Loki is absolutely horrible at expressing it most of the time. I want to talk about why Loki might've faked his death and taken Odin's place at the end of that movie in another post, but part of me really thinks he chose that specific way to fake his death because he wanted Thor to see that Loki did love him, and that was the only way he could think of to reach out without actually having to confront his own pain and the enormity of the breach between them. Now, the "I didn't do it for him" could be taken one of two ways: it was actually for Frigga, or it was actually for Thor. I'm very much inclined to believe the latter, as Thor is the one present in the scene. Also, the expression on Thor's face when Loki says that is so frozen, like yes, I wanted more than anything to be told that you still care, but not like this. And it feels like Loki is doing his best to communicate that he does love Thor, but his communication skills, especially with Thor, are severely distorted, partially by that unhealthy relationship they had early on where he most likely never felt entirely welcome to speak his true feelings, and partially by the chasm that opened between them when Loki went into his downward spiral of destruction, both of himself and of others. I genuinely think Loki doesn't know how to just say it. To quote myself from an earlier post I made about Loki, he feels like "there’s no way he can possibly repair the relationships he’s broken," so he doesn't try to apologize and make up for it. Like someone else (I forget who) has already said, sacrifice is the way Loki makes up for things. So he gives Thor this image of a sacrifice, the ultimate expression of love and devotion, because he doesn't know how else to say it.

What's the point of all this? Thor knew Loki loved him. That's the whole point of their story. Their love for each other is the cornerstone on which that immense cosmic narrative is built. Even with doubt, anger, bitterness, frustration, grief, pain all complicating their relationship and getting in the way of actually expressing love to each other, the fundamental truth of Thor and Loki is love. Is faith. Is hope. Is saying maybe you don't know how to say it, maybe you're trying to shut it down, but I know there is something in you that loves me and that's the part I choose to believe in.

Thor knew Loki loved him.

[icey--stars]

Born For Tragedy: Part 19

Series Index

She was tragedy. Nothing except death, fear and pain followed in her wake. When she was young, she was beaten. Now she’s the one doing the beating as an assassin. A mysterious stranger comes to her, paying an absurd amount of money for her to kill Beron Vanserra, and protect the eldest son until the job is done. She stumbles across a story much similar to her own, and knows what must be done.

WARNINGS: slight nsfw (its the morning after), somewhat graphic depictions of a dog birth also rhys is kinda an ass in this (does that count as a warning? idk, i see it more as “seeing the other side” from a previous hewn city citizen’s pov) AND NSFW content (SMUT) after the words “I am a deadly warrior,” She growled, shoving her face into his chest. “Fear me.” - there is a secondary warning farther down!

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

The next morning, they woke up to loud pounding on the door. Which, in all honesty, scared Valda shitless and sent her tumbling to the floor, barely dressed and going for her knives. Eris was even worse. He had leaped right off the bed and had fire crackling from fists as he marched toward the door angrily.

It was actually both very endearing and she wanted to kiss him again because holy fuck, he was hot, but also hilarious and wanting to make her break down in laughter at the same time.

Eris snapped his fingers after a moment, fully dressed. It looked a bit ruffled, but good enough for the High Lord of Autumn. He glanced at Valda.

Valda snorted and stepped out of view of the door as Eris swung it open and raised a flaming fist.

“What the fuck is the reason for bugging me and my mate this early in the fucking morning? Shall I take your head? Is that it?” Eris yelled.

The male on the other end let out a fearful squeaking noise and Valda put a hand to her lips to stop her laughter.

“Sir-” The male began. “It’s-”

“It’s what?” Eris snarled.

“T-Taunya, sir. She’s- She’s in labor right now,” the male stuttered.

The flame in Eris’s fist disappeared as he sighed.

“Next time, don’t you fucking dare bang on that door unless I have actually risen for the day, got it?”

“But-”

“If something is urgent, you get one of my brothers so I don’t burn your face off,” Eris growled. “Now go. My mate and I will come when we please.”

The male squeaked again and she heard hurried jogging down the hall. Valda finally let loose some of the laughter she’d been holding in.

Eris sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I swear, I’m going to burn his face off anyway.”

Valda laughed harder, putting a hand on her mate’s shoulder for support. “That’s-” she gasped for breath. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve seen in a while.”

Eris rolled his eyes, grinning. “Alright, calm down my love. I do actually want to go see Taunya.”

“Oh, for sure,” Valda said, walking to the closet. “Give me a moment.”

When she leaned down to get into a drawer for socks, she felt Eris slid a hand from the small of her back down.

She turned to flash an amused look at Eris as he lightly groped her ass. He smirked. “What? You expect me to think clearly and resist this beautiful ass of yours?”

Valda sighed and chuckled softly before taking off Eris’s shirt and then sliding her clothing on– still black.

However, Eris chucked her a sweater of his when she came out wearing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt. “It’s cold out,” he said in explanation.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and then put the sweater on.

“I won’t freeze,” she said, moving toward her boots.

“Oh yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you uncomfortable,” Eris replied. “Plus, I know you’ll complain.”

“I would not,” she protested. Eris tilted his head and raised a brow. Valda sighed. “Fine, maybe. But seriously, this place is at least warmer than the Winter Court.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment before he sighed and released it. “This is bad timing, Taunya,” he growled, mostly to himself.

Valda hummed, sliding her boots on and tightening them sufficiently. “Why’s that?” She questioned.

“Because of the stupid mating frenzy,” Eris admitted. “And honestly, if any male or female looks at you a certain way, I think I might take off their head.”

Valda’s thoughts took a turn and she thought of how she might react to something similar and felt rage and lust burning under her skin within seconds.

She sighed. “We’ll try not to take off anyone’s head or mist anyone to a bloody mist,” she said.

Eris gave a little half-chuckle as she walked over, offering him her hand. “And I suppose we’ll try not to scandalize your entire court as well.”

“Shall we winnow?” He offered. She nodded and then they were whisked away to the kennels within seconds.

There were three other individuals in the kennels in addition to the dogs. Kuhn Vanserra and then two servants.

Kuhn turned to glance at Eris and then his nose wrinkled. “Cauldron, remind me not to bother you in the mornings,” he grunted, turning back to Taunya who was laying in a pile of comfortable looking blankets with… 1 puppy already suckling. Nimbus, the male and father, looked stressed and was sitting next to Taunya’s head, whining softly.

Valda went to lean against the wooden walls of the kennel, watching from afar. Eris leaned down beside Nimbus, petting the male ghost hound gently and then Taunya.

“Hey girl,” he said gently. Taunya whined, moving her head straight into Eris’s lap. “You weren’t due for another two weeks,” he continued. “Didn’t wanna wait on these pups, did you?”

Nimbus whined, nudging at Eris’s elbow with his nose. The dogs seemed to take great comfort from Eris being there, which was adorable. They seemed calmer than before.

One of the female servants cast a gaze over to the High Lord and Valda tensed, biting her lip on a snarl.

Kuhn stood, moving away and toward Valda as Eris took over his job of petting the poor laboring female.

Eris’s gaze snapped up and he seemed to scowl at Kuhn.

Kuhn glanced between them before understanding dawned on his face and he moved to the other side of the kennels, still watching, but not near Valda anymore.

Cauldron, the pair of them, Valda thought with a chuckle. The Forest House was about to be set on edge.

“Is the pup healthy?” Eris asked, looking down at the one suckling on its momma.

“He is,” a servant answered. “We’ve got another one coming very soon.”

Eris nodded, looking down at the pup and then at Taunya who tensed suddenly.

“There’s the head!” One cried.

And another puppy slid out, covered in a bloody and clear looking mess.

Taunya sat up with a groan and immediately began licking the puppy clean. The pup whimpered and everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief. Valda didn’t know much about dog births, but she did know that them making any sort of sound was a good sign. The same was for fae– crying was a good sign.

Taunya pulled the pup to her belly before huffing and laying back down again. Eris gently checked the gender by taking a hold of the rump and head and turning it over before gently guiding it to nurse. 

“A female,” he noted aloud to everyone. “Good girl,” Eris praised the ghost hound. “How many more?”

“Just one sir,” one of the servants answered.

It was a while before the third pup finally made an entrance. At first, the pup appeared to not be breathing but Taunya kept furiously licking at the pup. One of the servants pushed her away, but the mother growled and continued.

Eris was allowed to gently take the pup into his hands and then let out a sigh of relief. “She’s breathing,” he told everyone. “Just a quiet one. Go ahead, Taun,” he told his hound.

Taunya licked Eris’s fingers for a moment before moving back to her puppy.

The servants did a few more checks, double-checking on making sure there were no more pups and then giving Taunya a little protein snack before leaving. Almost not soon enough for Valda’s nerves as they kept getting too close to her mate that she felt like leaping the wall and pulling them away forcefully.

Kuhn leaned down beside the dogs, smiling. “What are you going to name them, brother?”

Eris hummed. “Two females, one male,” he mused, glancing at Valda. “I have names in mind.”

“Well?” Kuhn prompted.

“Bane, for the male. Zelda for the eldest female and then Tempus for the quiet one,” Eris said.

Valda instantly recognized those names. The two female names had been ones that she’d told Eris.

She sent a little smile toward Eris who grinned back.

“Those are good names,” Kuhn said. He put a hand on Eris’s shoulder and stood.

Valda snarled, her resolve to not break gone.

Kuhn immediately removed his hand from Eris’s shoulder, standing and putting placating hands up toward her. “Sorry,” he said. “Forgot already. I’d rather not be killed-”

Valda sighed, walking around the wooden wall to stand beside Eris. “I won’t kill you, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Kuhn dipped his head. “Yes, Lady Valda.”

Eris turned sharply and called after Kuhn. “She might just be High Lady one day, brother.”

Kuhn laughed. “Then I shall call her High Lady Valda… Vanserra?” He said hesitantly.

Valda remained frozen as Kuhn made her way out.

Eris slid a slightly sticky hand into hers and pulled her down and kissed her gently. “You don’t have to do anything,” he assured her. “It was just an idea. I just like messing with him.”

Valda nodded, smiling as she kneeled beside him. “Would you ever want to get married?” She asked hesitantly.

Eris hummed. “Only if you wished for it, mate. Though, I doubt you would want Vanserra as your last name.”

Valda hummed. “Why’s that?” She asked.

“Didn’t you kill my father?” Eris teased, poking her with a smile.

Valda huffed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, but why would that stop me? It’s your last name.”

“What about yours?” Eris questioned.

“Callahan has no value,” she answered. “It’s just a poor mining family in the Night Court. Honestly, the only reason I keep it is just to see if anyone is smart enough to actually track me down. And so my dear brother might still learn of my wonderful achievements.”

“Is he even still alive?” Eris questioned.

Valda nodded. “According to the fact that my tattoo hasn’t disappeared, yes.”

Eris hummed. “Hm, maybe if I visit Hewn City again I’ll see if I can meet him.”

Valda rolled her eyes. “You want to murder him, don’t you?”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Eris asked. “Honestly.”

Valda scoffed, chuckling. “I’ll let you meet him as long as I get to spit in his face first. Maybe my mother’s as well.”

“Anything you wish, love,” Eris answered.

She hummed, testing the name on her tongue. “Valda Vanserra, High Lady of the Autumn Court.” Then she chuckled. “That sounds hilarious. And I have a feeling Rhysand would be extra terrified of the Night Court with a fae from his own court here.”

“Oh, completely,” Eris agreed. “He’s still demanding who the hell you were. Apparently, his dear shadowsinger can only find so many clues and not enough. By the way, did you ever manage to get paid for killing my father?”

Valda laughed. “I did. The male didn’t even protest, just handed over the gold like it was nothing. Weird ass male though.”

“How so?”

“I mean, it was an Illyrian,” she mused. “Paying for the assassination of a lord of the Autumn Court. It sounds so weird. And even weirder, the male seemed to be covered in weird ass darkness. Like he was a bastard with some High Fae powers, you know? However, he didn’t have any siphons I could see, so maybe it was just that.”

Eris’s brows furrowed and then he froze. “Holy fuck, that bastard,” he growled.

“What?”

“There are only two fae with Illyrian wings with that sort of darkness,” Eris explained. “And you know of both.”

Valda tilted her head, looking toward the ceiling for a moment. Then her jaw dropped. “Holy fuck, the Night Court paid me to kill Beron?! What the absolute-”

Eris growled to himself. “Seems it's time I have some words with Rhysand.”

“I’m coming,” Valda said sternly. For multiple reasons. First, she was not leaving her mate to Rhysand’s fury. Second, she wanted to hear why the hell she was hired by the Night Court from his mouth herself. Honestly though, why the fuck did they pay her to kill Beron?

“You don’t-”

“I’m coming,” Valda repeated. “I want to see their faces myself.”

Eris chuckled. “Very well, love. I will set up a meeting once I feel like not yanking you under the sheets and killing every male in a fifty mile radius.”

Valda felt heat in her core set alight.

——

It was nearly two weeks before the constant lusting seemed to end. Valda didn’t even think it was possible for lust to last that long. They split their time between the bedroom and Taunya. The council tried once to bug Eris about coming to a meeting, but Eris declined and said he would deign when to come to a meeting without any hesitation. Their faces were… indescribable. It was hilarious.

Taunya was doing adorably with her new puppies. Each one of them already had custom collars made, despite not wearing them because they were so young and barely able to even sit up.

However, Eris had decided it was time to get to the bottom of Rhysand’s infatuation with the Autumn Court’s business and planned a visit to Hewn City.

Valda prepared herself for every scenario possible, planning to go in armed to the teeth.

“Ready?” Eris asked, making sure his sleeves were straight one last time before offering his hand.

Valda took it with a little grin. “I’m ready,” she said.

Eris turned back to face forward, but cast a small glance at her. Assuring. Comfort and love flooded the golden bond between them and then she felt the familiar whirr of winnowing.

They landed on a marble floor and Valda let loose some of the darkness that lived within her, glancing at Eris whose eyes were ablaze with amber fire. He wore a crown on top of his auburn hair while she’d taken to simply become a complete walking weaponry.

They were right outside of the ballroom. She knew this place and took a deep, calming breath, letting the feeling of the bond within her lead her forward with Eris into the open space.

On top of the dais, there were two thrones. One with a male and the second with a female. There were two winged brutes standing as guards on the third step of the dais, and a golden-haired High Fae female on the first step.

Valda tried not to shake as the male on the throne turned his gaze on them. The violet eyes made the flight instinct within her very, very loud.

“Rhysand,” Eris began, walking confidently into the room. Valda walked at his side, her hand in his. She let his hand center her and raised her chin higher.

“Eris,” Rhysand said, leaning back into the throne. The picture of a male at ease. “To what do I owe the visit?” Cauldron, that voice.

“You know why,” Eris said, his voice taking a deeper, more lethal tone. “And I expect answers.”

She glanced over to the brute Illyrians, fixing them both with a glare. The bigger of the two, with bright red siphons that were glowing, she knew was the General. Cassian, to be exact. The other, with blue siphons and had shadows swirling around him was the Spymaster. Azriel.

The females– Morrigan, and the High Lady, Feyre Cursebreaker.

Rhysand fixed Eris with a bored look. “Oh really,” the male mused. “Answers for what, I could ask? And perhaps why you are bringing that High Fae of yours into my domain.”

Valda finally fixed her gaze on the High Lord and took a deep breath, settling the fear in her gut. Gods, the things this male had caused for her. The things he’d done…

She spoke confidently and clearly as she glared right at Rhysand. “Valda Callahan,” she said. “Of course, you might know me as the Shadow. If you’ve done your homework, then you know what I am capable of.”

Rhysand tilted his head curiously. “That might explain a few things,” he mused. “And explain the rumors I’ve been hearing from the Autumn Court.”

“What have you heard?” Eris asked, his tone bored.

“Oh, this and that,” Rhysand toed around the point. “The most interesting news has got to be that you’ve fallen deeply in love with the assassin of your father.”

Valda smirked. “Does it scare you, Rhysand?” She asked. “That Eris has someone so powerful at his side?”

Rhysand turned his gaze on her, and then down toward her feet where her darkness obscured some of her feet. “Not in the slightest,” the High Lord answered. “Your power is easily understood and conquered, as it is my own.”

Eris tensed, his hand squeezing hers tighter. “Conquered?” He repeated.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve upset the High Lord of Autumn again,” Rhysand said, turning towards Feyre. “Whatever shall I do?”

Valda felt like she was buzzing with leashed fury. “You will do well to respect him,” she growled. “And me. I’m sure you’re familiar with the effects of the mate bond? Hmm?”

Eris seemed to relax as Valda gained some of the upper hand again.

“Either way,” Valda continued, not letting Rhysand reply even as the male’s jaw opened to do so, “This is not the topic of our meeting. The topic of our meeting is why the fuck you decided to hire my services to kill Beron Vanserra. After all, there are only so many Illyrian males with money, and the darkness of the Night Court.”

Rhysand froze, the fae stillness settling on his features like ice.

Eris gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It does beg the question, Rhys, on why you decided you had so much power over the Autumn Court.”

Rhysand sat up slowly and then stood. Azriel immediately walked toward the dais as the High Lord began to descend.

Valda tensed, resisting the temptation to bite her lip nervously.

Rhysand paused three feet before them and looked Valda up and down. “Perhaps I underestimated you,” he mused. “Perhaps the Shadow isn’t all knives and has some brains after all.”

And that comment must’ve snapped Eris’s impulse control as her mate snarled aggressively and flames appeared in the hand that wasn’t currently holding her hand.

Azriel drew a dagger from his side. Valda fixed him with a glare. “If you draw a dagger, shadowsinger, then you will be the cause of the fight that will occur.”

Azriel glared at Valda, his shadows behaving oddly as they raised up on his shoulders like asps preparing to strike. However, his hand paused where it drew a dagger from his thigh. She put her free hand on the handle of her sword at her hip.

“You were hesitant to act, Eris,” Rhysand finally began. “So slow, so careful… or perhaps afraid? Of what your father could do. So I took it into my own hands.”

Valda bit the inside of her lip roughly at the comment on Eris being afraid. Her mate had faced more at Beron’s hands than Rhysand could ever imagine.

“You had no right to do that,” Eris said. “The Autumn Court is not in your filthy hands.”

Rhysand tilted his head and then smirked a little. “Isn’t it?”

Valda drew in a sharp breath, inaudible, but she felt like pouncing right then, or sprinting as far as fucking possible.

Eris was unwavering though and grabbed her tighter before replying. “It is not,” he growled. “The Autumn Court is not under your control, Rhysand. It never will be. You have no control, despite what you think.”

She felt mental claws suddenly slither along hers and she sucked in a breath and fortified her mind, closing her eyes for a split moment. She had not practiced her mental walls very much, but she’d learned them young, while living in Hewn City. The claws seemed to scrape along the walls before drawing away.

When she opened her eyes, she glared at Rhysand. “You dare to try and enter my mind, Rhysand?” She asked, growling. Valda gathered her magic, letting the feeling of it sit heavy in the air. “Do you think I am weak? Do not forget that I successfully killed a High Lord alone. What could I possibly do with the most powerful High Lord that Autumn Court has ever seen at my side as my mate?”

“Are you threatening me?” Rhysand asked.

“Do you want me to threaten you? I will protect my mate with my life, and through that, my court. If you dare to think the Autumn Court a puppet you can control, then you are sorely mistaken, Rhysand. I was raised in this nightmare. This Court of Nightmares. I know you, High Lord. I know how you work. I know how fucking cruel and weak you can be.”

Rhysand’s power rose to muffle my own and I tried to not take a step back, forcing my legs to be stone. “You think this is weak?” Rhysand growled. “I could shatter your mind without even a thought.”

Valda merely smirked. She’d gotten him riled up now. “You are incapable of controlling your own people, what else am I to think? They fear you, they do not respect you. The Autumn Court has achieved more change than you have in centuries.”

Eris seemed to be pleased as he watched her, though the bond still flickered with anger.

“Does this assassin speak for you, Eris?” Rhysand finally said. “Better find a leash soon.”

Eris abruptly heated, the feeling of it filling the air, but the heat never touched her. “I’d be careful, Rhysand. That assassin is set to be High Lady of the Autumn Court.”

Rhysand’s gaze flicked from Eris back to her and she merely smirked. “Does this get under your skin?” She asked.

Azriel seemed to snap beside his High Lord and suddenly lunged forward, dagger drawn toward her. “You will not speak to my High Lord in such a way.”

Valda glanced down at the dagger in his hands, held inches from her throat. “Did you think that would scare me? I’ve killed the most powerful assassins on Prythian. I’ve had a knife held to my throat before.”

Eris growled. “Put the fucking knife down,” he snarled, a flame appearing in his hand and then jumping out of his palm to be held near the dagger. Valda couldn’t even feel the heat. Eris was exceptional when controlling that power, she’d learned. She should’ve known that from when it didn’t burn her after he came to power, but alas, it took a bit more convincing. But she no longer feared his fire in any way. However, Azriel did seem to.

The male pulled the dagger back by a fraction.

She glanced at his hands. She knew a little about the scars of the shadowsinger. Burn scars. She knew it was a dirty move to use someone’s trauma against them, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction in the way the male seemed to be apprehensive.

“I said put it down,” Eris growled.

Azriel reluctantly lowered his hand. The fire dissipated as well.

“You must think yourself above me or something,” Eris growled, glaring at Rhysand. “You dare to try and manipulate my court, and threaten my mate, even try to enter her mind, and hold a dagger to her throat? Do you think I am weak? The Autumn Court is not under your control and will not be manipulated in such a way ever again.”

“Technically, it was Azriel who held a dagger to her throat-”

Eris cut the pretentious fuck off, “Bull fucking shit.”

Rhysand glared at Eris before seeming to gather himself and rolling his shoulders back, picking off an invisible piece of lint. “Very well. You’ve proved your point. Congratulations.”

Well, if that wasn’t sarcastic, then Valda never once managed in her life to be sarcastic.

Valda rubbed her eyes with her forefinger and thumb. “You really are as bad as I remember,” she muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” Rhysand questioned.

“You’re a pretentious motherfucker with no regard for anyone else but yourself and your family. This court under this mountain doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “What do you know of my court?”

Eris squeezed her hand.

“You wouldn’t remember, considering all that has happened since but you do not care for the wellbeing of the citizens here. Not at all. My father was executed needlessly, and so was the lord who killed him. I don’t care for either of them, but I know quite a bit about how this court works just by sneaking into this room for a day.”

“What were you doing in here?”

Valda’s lips tightened. “You don’t need to know the specifics,” she answered. “I am not under this mountain anymore. Though, I suppose some of my family might still be.”

“Ah,” Rhysand chuckled. “Yes, your brother is. As is your mother.”

“I see you’ve done your research at last,” Valda mused.

“You seem quite uncaring of the fact I know who they are.”

“I have no care for the people who abused me,” she answered emotionlessly.

Eris squeezed her hand comfortingly. She felt that assurance flooded through her and gave her more confidence.

“What sort of abuse?” Rhysand asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You have no business knowing that,” Valda retorted.

Rhysand smirked a little and hummed. “What a fiery female you’ve chosen, Eris.”

Feyre Cursebreaker stood from her throne and walked down. I eyed her carefully, but I did not know this female. All I knew was rumors and stories from Under the Mountain. Supposedly, she was intelligent and powerful. Enough to break the curse, collapse the Spring Court from within and even use powers from all the courts. Absolutely terrifying, but of course, I was also quite terrifying.

She met my gaze briefly before glancing at Eris. I tensed, but waited for her to speak.

“Eris,” she began, speaking clearly, but not too loudly. Eris seemed apprehensive, but waited patiently. Feyre continued, “Yes, we did hire an assassin to kill your father, and how wonderful that it succeeded. Our methods were not the best, but in your hesitance to act, we decided we were done waiting. Our goal was to kill Beron. Now that the Autumn Court is ruled by someone we are more… familiar with, and is less likely to help anyone rule the world, we are perfectly happy with allowing the Autumn Court to be as they are. We did not control you, we did not mean to exude the fact that we control Autumn, but I can see how it may seem that way.

“Valda, yes, we did hire you as the Shadow. However, you seem to be taking on a role that is not the assassin we knew you as, so I do dearly hope we can move forward.”

A moment of silence went by. Valda considered Feyre’s words. She certainly was convincing.

Rhysand curled an arm around Feyre and put a hand on her hip. Possessive fae males, she thought.

“Don’t try to pull the strings again,” Eris said sternly. “And perhaps we can move forward.”

Valda yielded to her mate’s decision. She wouldn’t have cared either way. It would be best to move forward, but the Night Court must also not think that Autumn is weak in any way.

Feyre gave an odd smile. The smile both seemed real and fake at the same time and made Valda think that she expected that answer. Confident, Valda thought.

“Now, let’s all stop threatening each other, shall we?” Feyre asked. “Perhaps a drink?”

Eris glanced over at Valda and she dipped her head.

The drink surprisingly… went well. The threatening went away with the problem mostly squared away. However, I did notice that Azriel kept a very close eye on me. Eris glared at him quite a lot for it. Despite the room being extremely tense, once Eris and Valda winnowed home, it seemed that the meeting had been mostly a success. Autumn Court had shone their strength.

“Val?” Eris asked hesitantly into the dark when they lay in bed.

“Yeah?” She asked groggily, looking up toward Eris’s chin where she was settled. He looked down and smiled slightly.

“Would you-”

“Spit it out,” she groaned. “I’m tired.”

“Would you ever become High Lady?”

Valda grumbled for a few seconds before sighing. “I mean, probably. If you think that’s a good idea. We’d probably have to get married for that to happen.”

Eris hummed in acknowledgement. “We would,” he agreed. “But only if you want to.”

“I want to.” Valda yawned. “But not tonight. I’m tired.”

Eris chuckled, amused. “You’re adorable,” he mused.

“I am a deadly warrior,” She growled, shoving her face into his chest. “Fear me.”

~ REMINDER: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, 18+, MINORS GO AWAY ~

Eris laughed and his chest jumped. Valda grumbled, pressing him onto his back so she could lay mostly on top of him and force him to stop. The movement seemed to have a different effect on Eris, however.

She chuckled as he hardened against her thigh. “You seem to enjoy me on top of you too much,” she muttered.

Eris paused, sliding his arms up her back teasingly. “You can’t act as if you don’t love it.”

Valda grinned, lifting her chin and scooting forward to near Eris’s lips. “I do,” she agreed and kissed him gently.

He brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, pressing his lips to her. This kiss was gentle, edged with need. She felt arousal sliding down her spine and she groaned, reaching for the bottom of Eris’s shirt.

“Cauldron, I can’t resist you,” she muttered and moved her lips down his jaw, lingering by his ear, causing a little whimper to escape her mate. She grinned, and kissed her way down his neck before settling on a spot that would show above even the highest of collars. She nipped the spot and sucked gently.

Eris seemed all too happy to let her mark him.

When she pulled away, she grinned as she examined her mark. A nice red bruise was there. “You’re mine,” she muttered.

Eris gripped her hip with his other hand.

“You need something?” Valda asked, smirking down at him.

“Please, for the love of the gods, fuck me,” Eris begged.

Valda chuckled and slid his shirt up over his head, and helped him get his sweatpants and boxers off before taking off her own pajamas, groaning as she felt Eris grope her ass.

“Needy,” she noted and leaned down to kiss Eris again.

She reached down with a free hand and angled him to slip inside of her. She let out a muffled moan at the same time as him, curling one hand into his hair and the other along his neck, just resting.

“You feel so good,” Eris muttered.

This dark, loving sex felt amazing, Valda thought.

She grinded her hips against him slowly, lazily even. “I fucking love you,” she groaned.

Eris wrapped both arms around her, hugging her close. “I love you more.”

“Debatable,” she chuckled.

Eris thrust his hips upward in retaliation. Valda gasped, pressing her forehead to Eris’s. “Fuck,” she groaned. “So good.”

Eris continued the movement and they grinded against each other, moaning and saying dirty praises aloud.

Valda felt herself building rather quickly. “Close,” she muttered, kissing Eris again.

Eris renewed his efforts. When they broke away, Eris spoke roughly. “Come for me.”

She moaned, feeling herself crest over the edge of that sweet pleasure. Eris followed, heat exploding within her.

The pleasure felt endless and when it finally faded, they were both panting and relaxing lazily into the sheets and each other.

A brief thought occurred to her and she opened her eyes, letting Eris slip out of her with a little wince.

“I should probably take a tonic,” Valda muttered, rolling to Eris’s side so she could curl up into his side.

Eris seemed to be silent for a few moments before asking, “What do you think about children?”

Valda yawned. “Maybe one day,” she managed to say. “But not now. Being a mother is hell. My little alias about being a nanny wasn’t a complete lie. The young assassins needed some babysitters. Toddlers are absolutely horrible to deal with.”

Eris chuckled, running a hand through her hair gently. “I don’t think I’d be a good father without researching quite a bit.”

“Why’s that?” Valda asked curiously.

“I didn’t really really have the best role model, did I?”

“That’s fair,” Valda chuckled. “I didn’t have a good one either.”

“The pair of us,” Eris joked. “Somehow trying to become better than our parents.”

“It’s hard,” Valda chuckled, shifting so her hand rested on top of Eris’s chest, right where she could feel his heartbeat. “I mean honestly, how does parenting even work?”

Eris huffed a little laugh. “We’ll figure it out if we want it,” he said, turning to kiss her forehead gently. “For now, we try.”

“We try,” Valda agreed and snuggled closer to sleep.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

For those listening- I'm gonna be real with you. I don't have pt. 20 written AT ALL and its smut, which takes a particular mood for me to write it. so, just saying this now so its out there: pt 20 may not be on time, i apologize. life is busy atm and writing takes energy lol

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @imma-too-many-fandoms, @mali22, @sassybluebird, @bubybubsters,

[highladderbed]

Stuck With The Cold

It's been a hot second since Freezy gave him control of this body they "shared" and the first few

minutes felt burning hot. He was paralyzed to the bed and trapped in the cover of darkness. The blanket was too small to cover him anymore but the cold betrayed him way before that. "Did that

buffoon gives me control so he wouldn't have to deal with this cold! Typical." ICK said in a

defeated tone. Even if he wasn't sick and could get up easily. 

bellasbarginart

There would be nothing for him to

do at 3:00 am. All the good things he would've loved to do and the people he'd fight wouldn't be

out until 3-4 hours later. But he knows he can't stay awake for that long. He'll get other chances,

he thinks. He'll just have to let this one pass. With no choice, he lay flat on his stomach and

closed his eyes to escape from the uncomfortable sensations that won't leave him until the sun

rises.

Just like that he was able to sleep peacefully for the first 20 minutes. After that a child's crying

began to go down his earlobes and filled the darkness within his eyelids. At first he thought it

was a dream, the second time he just wanted to deny it and continue to sleep. But on the third

time he reluctantly turned on his side to be face to face with Kid Putte - Freezy's little brother

who in a way was his as well. That was a bit hard to think about at the moment. He can see in

the dim light of the moon coming through window Putte in his favorite orange pajamas, the

teddy bear Freezy gave him as a gift tucked safely in his arms, and the lack of his iconic gray

glasses not comfortably placed upon the ridge of his nose revealing his small dotty eyes turned

red from all the crying.

Gabistar2

"I-I heard a huge creak from your room (hic) and th-think someone is coming to get you." The

boy cried "Can we stay together? I don't want anything bad happening to you o-or me."

Under his breath ICK gave out a small snicker "Afraid it's too late for that Fre- I mean Putte."

ICK had a sudden realization that made him feel so dumb. Maybe it was because he had

physical eyes now but Putte was a carbon copy of freezy from his bowl cut blonde hair and two

buck teeth and his cowardly personality. It was as if Freezy was there before him not as an

hallucination but as a real person and exactly how he imagined him as: a small kid who's about

to pee his pants. It felt almost too good to be true. By instinct, he raised a huge bulky hand and

hovered it towards the crying kid. Putte couldn't see it so he didn't try to run away. His hands

were an inch away from his forehead now. ICK didn't know what he was gonna do but he felt

like he was gonna enjoy this. Suddenly he stopped. As if, someone frozen his arm in time, it

stood in place and ICK couldn't take it back. He has a strange feeling being injected into him. It

was… reluctance? Where did that come from? He fought through it and victoriously grabbed the

kid. Only to put him in the same hold as Putte is with his teddy bear and was able to do nothing

else. He was shocked by his sudden lack of control. He was even enraged. Knowing

begrudgingly well that it would do absolutely nothing. The little kid within his arm was too tired to

give mind to his bigger brother's larger frame. With a satisfied smile and the tears seizing he fell

asleep beside him. It took ICK a lot longer to comprehend what just happened. Until he just

shrugged, he said to himself that he let this chance slide. So he continued his quest of falling

slept and succeeded definitely.

The next day:

As predicted, in the bed that somehow isn't broken was Freezy and Putte hugging him under

the comfy blanket. The soft sunlight and pleasant bird chirpings tickled Putte's eyes and ears,

Making him cheer out loud for making it through the night. He jumped on the cushions up and

down with all the glee of a wonderful child. This didn't sit well with Freeze as he still had a

headache. "Putte! What are you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse voice. His question was

greeted with a hug from his brother. While very appreciated and was reciprocated by him it

didn't answer what he was doing here. But based on how he felt last night, he had some

guesses.

Cut art:

bellasbarginart