#pale oliver stark

[fromkenari]

oh it's your bday?!?!?! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART. You shoud be eaten today good and nasty ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[andy-15-07]

The Midnight Covenant

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1259

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The gardens of the imperial palace were alive with the soft hum of nocturnal life, a stark contrast to the brutal world that General Marcus Acacius commanded during the day. By the time the moon hung high, its pale light bathing the stone columns and lush greenery in an ethereal glow, Marcus was already waiting.

His armor had been set aside, replaced with a simple tunic that allowed him to blend into the shadows. Yet, he carried the air of a warrior, his presence commanding even in solitude. His thoughts were consumed by her—the woman who had unraveled him, who made him yearn for a life beyond the sword.

Y/N arrived moments later, her steps as soft as whispers on the marble pathways. She wore a modest gown of cream-colored linen that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. The garment was simple compared to the finery she wore at court, but to Marcus, she had never looked more divine.

“You came,” he said, his voice low yet rich with relief.

“I always come,” she replied, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Though every time, I wonder if it will be the last.”

Marcus stepped closer, his expression softening. “As long as I breathe, I will find a way to be with you.”

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world beyond the garden ceased to exist. He reached for her hand, his touch reverent as though he feared she might vanish if he held on too tightly.

“Come,” he said, guiding her to a stone bench beneath an ancient olive tree. Its gnarled branches stretched out like the arms of a guardian, shielding them from prying eyes.

Y/N settled beside him, her heart pounding in her chest. “You risk too much, Marcus. If the emperors knew you were meeting me like this—”

“They don’t,” he interrupted gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “And even if they did, what could they do that I wouldn’t endure for you?”

Her eyes searched his face, finding only sincerity in his words. “You speak as though I am worth the wrath of gods and emperors alike.”

“You are worth that and more,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Do you know how many nights I’ve fought battles not on the field, but in my own mind? The war within me is fiercer than any I’ve faced in the arena or on the battlefield. And it’s all because of you.”

She tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Because of me?”

“Because I am a man who has only ever known duty and bloodshed,” he explained. “Yet you have made me long for something else. Something more.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, her heart aching with the weight of his confession. “I don’t want to be your distraction, Marcus.”

“You are not a distraction,” he said firmly, his hand cupping her chin and gently turning her face back to his. “You are my reason.”

Her breath caught, tears threatening to spill as she searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. She found none.

“Marcus,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You make it sound so simple, but it’s not. We cannot ignore the world we live in. The emperors would see us both destroyed if they knew.”

“Let them try,” he said, his tone fierce yet tender. “I have faced death more times than I can count. If I must face it again, let it be for you.”

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

“And I cannot bear the thought of a life without you,” he countered, brushing her tears away with his thumb. “So we must find a way to make this life ours, no matter the cost.”

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air.

“Tell me,” Marcus said softly, breaking the stillness. “If you could leave this place behind, where would you go?”

She opened her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Somewhere far from here. Somewhere quiet and beautiful. Perhaps a villa by the sea, where the air is always warm, and the sound of the waves lulls us to sleep.”

Marcus smiled, the image of their imagined life filling his mind. “A villa by the sea,” he repeated, as though committing it to memory. “And what would we do there?”

“Anything we wanted,” she said, her eyes alight with a mix of hope and longing. “We would wake with the sun, walk along the shore, and spend our days building a life together. A simple life, but a happy one.”

His hand tightened around hers, a spark of determination igniting within him. “Then we will make it so, Y/N. One day, we will have that villa, and we will live the life we’ve only dreamed of.”

She smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with a mix of joy and sorrow. “You make me believe it’s possible, Marcus. Even when I know it’s not.”

“It is possible,” he insisted, his voice steady and sure. “The gods may have given me the strength of a warrior, but they also gave me you. And I will not waste the gift of you.”

Y/N leaned forward then, her forehead resting against his. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them and the promise of a love that defied the stars themselves.

“Tell me about your dreams, Marcus,” she said softly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

“My dreams?” he echoed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “They are simple compared to yours. I dream of a life where I can wake each morning to see your face. Where the only battles I fight are for your happiness. Where the weight of the world no longer rests on my shoulders because you are at my side.”

Her tears returned, spilling down her cheeks like rivers of starlight. “You speak as though I am your salvation.”

“You are,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She kissed him then, her lips soft and warm against his. It was a kiss that spoke of love and longing, of desperation and hope. It was a promise sealed in the quiet of the night, a vow to hold onto each other no matter what the world might throw their way.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together once more, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“Marcus,” she murmured, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and determination. “Promise me something.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you will never stop fighting for us.”

His hands cradled her face, his dark eyes shining with unwavering resolve. “I swear it, Y/N. I will fight for you, for us, until my dying breath.”

As the night stretched on, they spoke of the life they would build together, their dreams intertwining like the branches above. They shared laughter and tears, their bond growing stronger with each passing moment.

But as the first rays of dawn began to creep over the horizon, reality came crashing back.

“I must go,” Y/N said reluctantly, rising to her feet.

Marcus stood with her, his hand lingering on hers. “Until tonight?”

“Until tonight,” she promised, her voice trembling with the weight of their unspoken fears.

He watched as she disappeared into the shadows, his heart heavy yet full. For as long as he had her, he would endure anything.

And so, as the sun rose over the imperial palace, Marcus Acacius prepared to face another day, armed not only with his sword but with the knowledge that somewhere in the world, a goddess had chosen to love him.

[leth-writes]

Companion, part 2

yandere house of the dragon x reader

Summary: your first day in court.

Warnings: typical for my blog

As you walked toward the hall where you would attend court, you tried to surrepticiously ask Cassandra as many questions as possible. It was hard, trying to get her to voice her opinions; she was so nervous to so much as speak the Queen’s name, let alone truly express any opinions that reflected negatively on the nobles. However, you did manage to learn the basics; there was a current, ongoing war between two factions for the iron throne. It seemed that at the moment, the Greens held control, represented by Queen Alicent and her heir, Aegon, as well as her son Aemond and daughter Helaena. The blacks in contrast included Rhaenyra, the King’s old heir, Daemon, the king’s brother, and their children, Jace and Luke. Even without so much as seeing the noble family, you could feel the tension building in the castle. It seemed to ooze from the walls, permeating the air and creating a palpable sense of fear and anxiety. Every servant you passed seemed more anxious than the last, some even crying; you could imagine the constant fighting would effect them harder, since they were especially vulnerable.

As you walked, you started to piece together a backstory for yourself. You were the child of a lord, quite a low-down one, who already had an heir in the form of an older brother known for aggression and a lack of interest in the good of the people he claimed to represent. It seemed that you’d complained many times to Cassandra in the past; so you were inhabiting someone else’s body, it seemed, though the person you used to be did not sound to be the nicest. At least she treated Cassandra with respect, you thought.

Your mother seemed to ignore your entire existence, and none of your family had so much as written a letter to you in the many years you’d been by Helaena’s side. You could only hope they wouldn’t suddenly decide to come visit; they’d certainly immediately catch on to your new personality, and you couldn’t risk being suspicious.

Finally, you reached the oak doors that separated you from Helaena’s circle. Cassandra opened the doors and entered in, you following slowly after her, and she announced your presence. The room was imperious, dark and lacking warmth. Both the floors and walls were stone, intricate carvings of dragons lining the walls, with very few windows letting in the midmorning grey light. Candles lined the tables and walls, bathing the room in the flickering warm glow of their fire, though even that seemed to be smothered by the oppressive atmosphere in the room. 4 women sat in chairs in a loose circle, each seemingly working on a sewing project or needlepoint. This, it seemed, was Helaena’s court.

Cassandra nudged you, then went to join the other servants lining the walls. it seemed you had at least one ally. Finally, you reached the small empty stool, joining the group.

“How nice of you to join us, finally,” one woman said. She was tall, willowy even, with dark black hair pooling around her shoulders, pale skin standing in stark contrast to the green she wore. Her dress was opulent, dripping in gold accents, and her arms were coated in liberal amounts of jewelry. She was working on a needlepoint project, clearly the most advanced of the group. She had deep, cruel brown eyes and a nasty smirk, her little button nose accented by a slight smattering of freckles. 2 of the other women tittered. The third, a slight woman with long white hair, barely glanced up, seeming irritated at the interruption. She had small eyes, catlike and graceful, and a roman nose, her small mouth turned down into a small frown. She was beautiful, though unique, a classic beauty. Her dress was a dull olive, covered with a second layer of sheer black swirling dragon designs.

“Dyana,” she chided. The woman in the green dress, Dyana, looked down, seemingly chastised. “Yes, lady Helaena,” she replied. So the woman in the dragon dress was the noble you were to be attending. You nodded gratefully at her, and she nodded back. You picked up a plain needlepoint canvas, ready to begin. Luckily, you’d always enjoyed sewing, so you didn’t struggle too much.

As you worked in silence, you tuned in to Dyana’s conversation with the other two women. The first was short and chubby, with a circle face and beautiful doe eyes. Her skin was a deep brown, complementing her hair, which was pulled back, well. She wore a deep red dress, accentuating her figure perfectly. She seemed to be the nicer out of the two remaining women. From the conversation, you gathered her name was Clarysse. The second was the tallest, though not as thin as Dyana. She had beady green eyes, seeming to bore into the side of your head with anger, despite you not so much as commenting on their discussion of the latest gossip among the lords. her other features were average, and she wore a deep blue dress, simpler than the other women but still fancier than yours, with light silver accents and swirling wave patterns. Her name was Catlina.

“I have heard that Lord Cannion’s daughter is to be married this fall,” Dyana began, smirking. The other girls, excepting Helaena, gasped.

“So soon after her last engagement was broken?” Catlina gasped, chuckling quietly. You weren’t sure how this was such big news, but then again you still didn’t really understand the court gossip being spread. Helaena seemed largely uninterested as well.

“Ah, but the engagement only broke because her fiance was unfaithful, no?” Clarysse responded, looking down sheepishly. She seemed the quieter out of the three, largely unwilling to engage in the cruel gosip both Dyana and Catlina were engaging in.

“Yes, but it’s no wonder… She was to be a terrible bride and an even worse mother,” Catlina chortled, hiding her mouth behind her thin hand.

“She has such a short temper, it’s no wonder…” Dyana added on, smiling.

“Did you hear that Lady and Lord Voss have given birth to a child?” Clarysse changed the subject, looking uncomfortable. You felt bad for her, understanding her discomfort with the chatter.

“Ah yes, the lady Voss has named her daughter Breyna… One wonders if perhaps Lord Brey played a role in the matter?”

Wow, they were unable to so much as be happy for the woman, despite her just having a daughter! You could see that Clarysse seemed to share your feelings.

“Clarysse, how have you been?” You asked.

Dyana’s head shot up and her face morphed into a harsh scowl. “Are you not forgetting something, girl?” You felt the room chill.

“Lady Dyana, please, it is no bother!” Clarysse begged, holding her hands up placantingly.

“Lady Clarysse, you are too kind, but they must address you with the proper title… They have been attending court for years,” Catlina replied, a sharp smirk on her face. Helaena was watching the entirety of the interaction, seeming more interested in the conversation. Her eyes flicked to yours, and you could sense the kindness in them.

“I apologize, Lady Clarysse, I am overtired and did not mean to insult you,” you said, bowing your head slightly. You didn’t really understand what you had done wrong, but you were smart enough to know that it would be a bad idea to get on their bad side.

Clarysse acknowledged your apology, though Dyana looked to Helaena. “Lady Helaena, do you accept the apology?” she asked, tone clear she was expecting you to be kicked out.

“Yes, it was an honest mistake. The rats have yet to bite,” she replied, gazing off into the distance. You couldn’t help but be confused by the comment, but judging by the expressions on the other girls’ faces, you weren’t alone.

Shaking off the confusion, Clarysse answered your question, updating you on her family; it seemed her brother had just completed training to enter the next jousting tournament, and she was excited to see him compete.

As the conversation continued, you caught Helaena glancing at you more often. She had a pensive look on her face, seeming quite contemplative.

Finally, it seemed as though visiting hour was coming to a wrap, the other girls slowly packing up their projects and filtering out. As you finished your piece and put it down, the last to leave, Helaena called out to you. Confused, you turned to face her.

“My lady?” You asked.

“I apologize for Dyana and Catlina’s actions today, they were quite harsh. It is hard, to be a dreamer among those whose eyes are closed…” She continued, ignoring your question.

You couldn’t quite get a read on Helaena. Her words were usually quite confusing, almost as if she was talking to someone else rather than you. You weren’t sure how to interpret the things she said.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t quite understand…” You responded.

“It’s alright, most do not. I am glad to see you here, though I sense you are different than the last time I saw you. I do not expect you to understand yet, though I hope we can grow close and begin to connect. Would you like to take a walk with me?”

Well, if the future Queen was asking, you couldn’t say no. You turned to Cassandra, who was already out the door, ready to inform Lady Worner.

The two of you went to walk through the gardens.

The gardens were beautiful, teeming with life, though lacking in color; it seemed not even the garden could escape the suffocating tension.

“You are not yet betrothed, correct?” Helaena asked gently, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

“No, my lady, I’m not. Though, I believe my father is working to arrange one.”

She hummed, looking concentrated. You wondered what was going through her head.

“Well, I believe your luck shall soon turn. I see the fire blazing.” She continued, almost as though she was talking to herself rather than you.

“My lady?” you questioned, hoping she would elaborate. She did not.

The two of you continued on in silence.

“Helaena?” Aegon asked, shocked to see his wife up and about so late at night. She was sitting by the lone window in her room, gazing out at the moon. “The little bird’s chirps are so quiet under the roar of the fire,” she answered.

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I have found Aemond a wife,” she responded.

“Who?” He asked, moving closer toward his wife. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of kindness.

“The little bird in my court, there is something different about her,” Helaena said, turning to look up at where Aegon stood behind her.

“Ah. Of course. Well, we shall introduce her to mother, and see what her verdict is. Then, it will be up to Aemond.”

“We shall need to persuade mother. I see this being a bond to strengthen our family greatly.” With that, the conversation was done.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Rumor has it - Tom Riddle x reader - Part 1/2

...i-i dont even know, enjoy this fic that I've been giggling and kicking my feet over Afab reader, has a last name, she/her reader

=

There was a rumor going about school-that apparently had started from a Slughorn party-after party. It was quite outlandish-many didn’t believe it-others hoped it was true and they were the one involved in it.

What was that rumor? Tom Riddle had a crush.

Who was he crushing on? No one knew, all anyone got out of him was the word ‘yes’ when asked if he liked anyone during truth or drink. It had been the first time anyone had seen him blush-his pale cheeks and ears during apple red, his cheeks puffed slightly as he sunk into his chair and sipped at his butterbeer.

Many wondered who started this rumor, and if it was true or not; because Tom had never shown any interest in romance before-boy or girl. He had flirted once or twice-then usually abandoned that tactic when he got what he wanted-which garnered him a playboy title. He really wasn’t; a playboy by definition was someone who didn’t care for personal feelings and had many sexual relationships.

Tom didn’t care for sexual relationships, before now(as the rumor suggested) he hadn’t even had a crush before.

The great hall was a mess of voices, many of them whispering about the rumor and Tom felt eyes on him as he tried to study. It was bloody study hour after all-that usually meant ‘be quiet’ or at least be respectful to those who are trying to study.

“Who do you think it is?” one voice whispered from the Ravenclaw table-which right now had several Slytherin and Hufflepuff sitting at it-since house tables were really only assigned during dinner. “I dunno, I know Olive Hornby hopes it’s her heh-did you see her face when she first heard the rumor?”

“yeah, her eyes lit up like Christmas had come early,”

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose-heavily regretting not taking a shot when he had been asked that question during the after-party. He had thought-possibly, maybe, it wouldn’t spread about. He had thought what happened at a party-stayed at a party. But he had been wrong, and now his secret was out and being spread like wildfire.

Yes-Tom Riddle had a crush, and he had had it since 4th year. Who? He would never tell; he had hardly admitted it to himself this past summer when he realized why this particular person plagued his thoughts like no other had before-they had even overtaken the chamber and horcruxes in his mind.

Tom was 16 years old, and dealing with liking someone for the first time.

He detested it(he didn’t), he just wanted them to disappear from his mind and life and never have to think of them again(a lie, he wanted nothing but to be around them all the time).

“Honestly, you’d think Tom Riddle is the only boy in existence with how they talk about him,” Tom glanced up from his potions work, seeing Viktoria Klopstock arm In arm with (y/n) Alexander; the two talking about the rumor swirling through the school. (y/n) snorted at Viktoria’s quip and shook her head, catching Tom’s eye for a split moment and smiling at him like she always did.

Tom couldn’t help but stare.

“Well, he is the heartthrob of the school, or did you not say that only a few months ago?” (y/n) teased back, laughing as Viktoria sputtered and glared at (y/n) with flushed cheeks, her pale complexion stark against her dark brown hair. “You-I was simply making an observation!“ (y/n) just hummed in response to Viktoria’s sputter, sitting down with their other friends, Walter Deville and Lucy Billington, and laughing as Viktoria attempted to defend herself over her past comments on Tom.

“Keep telling yourself that Viv, we all know you fancy him,” (y/n) teased and Viktoria just kissed Walter in protest, who chuckled and shook his head, brushing back his dark curly hair. (y/n) tossed her head back while she laughed and Lucy shook her head at her friends, returning her attention to her divination book.

Tom tore his eyes away when (y/n) glanced back at him, swallowing harshly against the dryness of his throat.

Yeah, Tom Riddle had a crush all right, and no one would ever know who it was.

But…

Tom glanced back up-seeing (y/n) still looking at him, seemingly lost in thought and Tom had to look away as he felt heat buildup in the tip of his ears.

He had a feeling it wouldn’t stay a secret for long.

-

“Hey Tom!” Tom forced himself to stay perfectly calm as he turned on his heel to face (y/n), who was walking up to him with her broom in hand-clad in her Slytherin quidditch uniform. “Alexander,” Tom greeted, mentally patting himself on the back as he forced down the waver of his voice. “is there something you need?”

(y/n) shook her head, just smiling, a strand of her hair falling into her eyes. “Not really, just wanted to know if you’ll be at the game this Saturday?” Tom shrugged, he had never been one for quidditch, it was a brutal game that always resulted in pointless injuries. But when he looked at (y/n), who seemed so excited at the prospect of him being at that game(her first game actually, a chaser had gotten injured and she was finally coming off the bench after being on the team for a year), he caved.

“I’ll be there,” Tom said instead of saying he was going to be busy, and (y/n) beamed. Tom couldn’t help the flutter of his chest at the sight of it, meant for him. “what time? I’ve never been to a match, not since first year anyway,” Tom asked and (y/n) happily told him what time the match was, it was Slytherin against Ravenclaw, and he nodded, taking a step back as she went off to practice, giving him one last grin.

“Oh I’m so doomed,” Tom breathed, feeling that now familiar heat travel to his cheeks and ears, catching a glimpse of his apple-red face in the reflective glass of a window. “so doomed.”

To this day-he had trouble figuring out why he was attracted to (y/n), it wasn’t as if she had come out of nowhere, they were in the same year, and same house-and she was a high-class halfblood(pureblood father and halfblood mother), from one of the richest families in the uk-right behind her friends, Deville being the richest of the four.

Tom had noticed her from the start really, while he was walking down the cars of Hogwarts Express, seeing her with her three friends laughing away with her head in Deville’s lap, a chocolate frog in hand. She had seen him and smiled, waving at him shyly.

Tom had just blinked-the socially awkward child he had been-and carefully waved back, then continued down to find an empty car.

Then she just kept showing up, sitting next to him in class, being partnered with him in assignments; always smiling at him and greeting him with a wave. Tom simply got used to her, almost began expecting her really, she was probably the only person in Hogwarts that didn’t annoy him to all hell just by existing.

He supposed that’s how she slipped through the cracks-by not being one of the several banes of his existence.

But then the calm expectancy became heat rushing to his face when she sat down with him in the library to study, butterflies in his chest and gut when she glanced at him, trembling hands when she smiled at him, sharp intakes of breath when her hand rested on his shoulder to pass by him in a busy hall.

Tom was utterly infatuated with her and he had no idea how to handle it, but he dreaded the idea of disappointing her(agreeing to come to a stupid game just so she would be happy), felt the burning pit of jealousy in his gut when someone got far too close to only want friendship(he had never wanted to fist fight someone before then), and had the desperate need to just-hold her hand.

He had never wanted to hold anyone’s hand before.

But then he wanted to be around her all the time, just to stare at her freely, curl his fingers into her hair, touch her lips with his thumb, and bring her into a kiss.

Tom groaned at the thoughts going through his mind, his face burning against his palms as he rubbed his eyes. He was really so doomed, here he was-attempting to unlock all the secrets of the chamber of secrets and become one of the greatest wizards of all time-and he was constantly plagued by thoughts of (y/n) Alexander.

He remembered only a few days ago, after he had been researching horcruxes and the chamber-they had been the only thing resounding through his mind as of late. But with a call of his name and (y/n) asking him if he was okay(he was visibly distracted) Tom had just nodded, feeling his lip quirk up without his control. And for the rest of the day, the only thing he could think of was (y/n) Alexander.

Tom sat down in potions class, getting out all his things, but still-the only thing in his head was (y/n) Alexander. Her eyes, her lips, the curve of her jaw and cheeks, the way her head tossed back when she laughed particularly hard, the curl of her nose when she snarled at Black during practice because he had made one too many comments.

“So doomed,” Tom muttered to himself, getting out his quill and ink well, looking up at Professor Slughorn as he greeted the glass.

Oh to be young and to be in love.

-

The wind from the quidditch pitch threw his hair around-his scarf tucked tightly into his jacket so it didn’t fly away. It was loud, very loud, something Tom expected considering he could hear the crowd from the bloody library sometimes.

“Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts' sixth match of the season! Today’s game, Slytherin vs Ravenclaw!” The respective houses roared with support for their teams, and Tom saw the Slytherin team soar high above the pitch, his eyes drawn to a particular player.

Alexander; 3

She had a wild grin on her face-the wind curling her hair and flushing her face, she zoomed past Black and settled with her teammates as they all gathered in the air. The referee stood at the bottom and said something Tom couldn’t hear and opened the box that sat at her feet; in an instant-the bludgers flew up, along with the snitch.

With a blow of a whistle-the quaffle was tossed into the air and the game began.

(y/n) had snatched it before anyone else could grab it-flying up and over the Ravenclaw’s heads, laughing as they gave chase. She was quick-a blur to the naked eye, but that was the same for the other players, however- there was something about her speed; flying just fast enough to keep out of reach.

She easily made the first score-throwing her first up in victory as the bell rang to announce it. “(y/n) Alexander makes the first score of the game! Ten points to Slytherin!!”

Tom couldn’t keep his eyes off (y/n), her smug smirk giving him those silly butterflies as she flew back into the game, avoiding bludgers and other players with graceful ease. Tom’s knuckles cracked as a bludger came soaring right for her-but she quickly noticed and hooked her elbow around her broom, swinging around, under, and getting back on top within a split moment as the bludger zoomed right where her head had been.

“Holy shit! She’s good!” someone yelled from behind him, the Slytherin crowd cheering loudly as someone scored once again, (y/n) laughing heartily as she caught the quaffle from her teammate and flew off-her grin turning to a glare as she nearly crashed into one of the Ravenclaw chasers.

“It's odd seeing you here!” Someone yelled over the noise of the crowd and Tom spared a glance to see Abraxas-who almost seemed nervous. Tom just shrugged, looking back up and searching for (y/n), who had disappeared from his gaze the moment he looked away.

 “I think I get sports now,” Tom just said(which made Abraxas sputter in confusion because Tom had loathed quidditch before now), finally locking onto (y/n) again, his lip quirking as she snatched the quaffle mid-air, suddenly flying up as two Ravenclaw players tried to slam into her on either side-only to get each other and fly off their brooms.

“oooh!” Nott laughed from behind Abraxas, the crowd watching in tense anticipation as (y/n) continued flying up, and then suddenly-she started free-falling, the quaffle and her broom still tight in hand. Tom tensed-wondering what was going on-but he relaxed as he saw the grin on (y/n)’s face.

Just as she passed by the horde of Ravenclaw players that had been trying to get back the quaffle-she straightened out and headed straight for the pitch, faking out the Ravenclaw keeper and scoring another 10 points.

“That’s another 10 points to Slytherin! They lead Ravenclaw 30 to nothing!”

Tom squinted at the roar of the crowd around him and quickly planted his hands over his ears-it was far too loud for him now, but he didn’t want to leave early-it might make (y/n) disappointed that he left.

At that moment-(y/n) spotted him and she looked overjoyed to see him, waving eagerly. Tom grimaced back and she laughed, tossing her head back like she always did. Tom felt that now familiar heat burn at his ears and he sighed-glad he was covering them at the moment.

No one could say (y/n) Alexander wasn’t a brilliant chaser-through the next half hour the match played-she scored more than half the points Slytherin gained, and snatched the quaffle mid-air as the Ravenclaw chasers attempted to pass it multiple times.

She was quickly becoming a threat, grinning while bludgers and other players tried to knock her off-but she easily dodged each one, even jumping off her broom at one point to avoid a collision.

At one point she went high up-avoiding any players or bludgers and wiped her sweat-soaked face with her jersey, allowing all to see her stomach-which made Tom’s face flush with both jealousy and something else as the crowd whistled at her, some of the boys cat-calling her.

Tom never wanted to hex someone more.

But she caught his eye as she brought down her shirt and grinned, and Tom had a feeling she had done that on purpose-which made him think; why would she? unless she either just wanted to rile him up or…Tom swallowed down the hope in his throat as he thought; (y/n) might’ve done that to get his attention.

Well, she had it-if that’s what she wanted-and Tom doubted she would lose it.

“Rouge bludger!” someone yelled and Tom tore his eyes away, only to comically widen them as a bludger came rocketing towards him-right at him-all of the beaters were on the other side of the field, and Tom wondered how they had hit the dammed thing over to the stands. He felt hands on his shoulder-most likely Abraxas-that tried to pull him down and away-but the bludger was fast and Tom had a feeling he would be spending the next week in the hospital wing.

But something flew right where the bludger had been heading and snatched it out of the air-only feet away from where Tom was standing. He let go of the breath he had been holding and looked over the edge-seeing (y/n) with the bludger in the crook of her arm, it struggled to get out but she had a tight grip. Her face was set in anger-her eyes saying ‘murder’ as she threw the bludger right back at the ones who had accidentally hurled it at Tom-unfortunately being her own team.

She yelled something and even Black seemed to curl under her words-nodding sheepishly with the rest of the team.

Tom felt his stomach flip-flop, his mouth going dry and his face blooming with red as she pointed back towards him and continued to yell-the match being put to a halt while the referee took the rogue bludger and checked it(it was supposed to be bewitched to redirect the moment it went towards the stands)-“you nearly hit Tom!” she yelled over the roar of the wind and crowd, her lip curled into a snarl.

“You all right, my lord?” Abraxas asked, his hands still on Tom’s shoulder, and Tom nodded-eyes locked onto (y/n), who glanced back at him and drew her eyes all over him-nodding when she saw he was perfectly fine.

“Just fIne,” Tom said, ignoring the way his voice cracked like it did when he hit puberty. Abraxas frowned but nodded, the match soon resuming.

Tom really understood sports now, he really did-because that was really really hot.

The crowd started to chatter-all about (y/n), about how she caught a bludger(which-Tom learned just now-were made of IRON?!) going full speed and continued to hold it with one hand-even as it attempted to escape.

Tom realized that’s maybe why Black looked so sheepish-(y/n) had caught and held onto a 150-ish pound iron ball with no injury(to his knowledge), she was not a witch to be trifled with.

And Tom’s heart and stomach did another flip, his eyes once again on (y/n) as she used her anger to score three more times, and finally; the snitch was caught by the Slytherin seeker-ending the game.

Slytherin had won by a landslide, 240 to 60.

The Slytherin crowd exploded into cheers as the other houses booed or left the field in defeat, and from the stands-Tom could see Black hold out his hand to (y/n), and offer her the main chaser position. She grinned and took his head, her eyes turning a bit sharp as she tightened her grip, and Tom’s stomach did one last flip as he saw Black wince.

“Oh I'm so bloody doomed,” Tom muttered to himself over the blaring cheers of the crowd-turning on his heel as he saw the Slytherin team make their way off the pitch.

He didn’t even bother to look behind him to see if Abraxas and Nott were following-they always did. He made it down the rickety stairs in record time, panting slightly as he caught his breath-seeing (y/n) with the team making their way back to the castle.

Tom swallowed harshly, seeing McLaggen waltzing up to her, looking all too smug for Tom’s taste. “Alexander!” Tom called out right when McLaggen opened his mouth-both (y/n) and McLaggen looking shocked to hear her name from Tom’s mouth.

From behind him-he could feel the bewilderment from Abraxas and Nott. But (y/n) smiled at him, her hair wind-swept and cheeks slowly cooling back down, sweat drying on her face and neck. Tom licked his lips, feeling his ears start to burn as she waved off her team and walked towards him-broomstick in hand. “Tom!” she said, grinning still, leaning on her broomstick as she stopped in front of him and tilted her head. “How’d you like your first game since first year?”

“Good-great-you,” Tom cleared his throat-suddenly very nervous, his throat dry and ears burning, his usual calm and collected behavior nowhere to be seen. (y/n) bit her lip a bit-something that made Tom’s brain fumble and he paused in his words.

Oh, yes, he was gone for this girl.

“You-you played great, can’t say I’ve seen a better chaser,” Tom finished his sentence, breathing slowly as (y/n) just grinned, her eyes twinkling.

“Thank you, but you also don’t have many other chasers to compare me to, for all you know-I could be dog-shit.” Tom found himself snorting and shaking his head at (y/n)’s lack of elegant words, waving his hand towards the pitch. “Believe me, I saw enough from your teammates and the Ravenclaw chasers-you were the best on the field.”

(y/n) laughed, her head tossing back with the action and Tom found himself staring, his gaze softening as (y/n) continued to giggle as she calmed down, shaking her head as she bit her lip. “Honestly Tom, you’re funnier than others give you credit for,” Tom just hummed, he thought he was hilarious.

Thankfully, (y/n) seemed to think so too. Tom opened his mouth again, glancing around-seeing McLaggen staring daggers into him-but he quickly looked away when he caught Tom’s eye. “I just wanted to say, thank you for catching that bludger, I would probably be in the hospital wing right now if it weren’t for you,” Tom said with his usual charming grin, patting himself on the back for returning to his normal behavior.

(y/n) nodded and clapped his arm once, sending fire through his veins at her touch-his mouth going dry again. “Like I was gonna let it hit you, but, you’re welcome Tom. What would the world be like without your pretty face?” (y/n) teased and Tom’s mind went blank.

“You think I’m pretty?” Tom asked, his voice cracking slightly as his jaw went slack, the flush on his ears growing towards his cheeks as (y/n) nodded with a grin, her eyes sparkling still. He knew most of the students of Hogwarts found him attractive-but to know (y/n) thought he was pretty-wow…just-wow.

“Yeah, I do,” (y/n) breathed out, her eyes traveling his face and Tom didn’t mind being looked at like that for the first time. Usually, he hated being studied like he was just a pretty thing to look at-but-if it was (y/n)? he wouldn’t mind being studied all day.

“uh-cool,” Tom muttered back-shaking his head. Cool? Cool?! Just-cool? ugh, how lame was he?! “um-did, any chance you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” Tom asked, eyes going wide at what tumbled out of his mouth, where did that come from?!

He could feel the shock and disbelief from Abraxas and Nott-considering Tom had not shown interest in anyone ever, and now was suddenly asking out (y/n) Alexander.

And then they realized; this was the girl Tom had admitted to liking at the after-party, and they grinned at each other while they watched Tom practically make a fool of himself in front of his crush. (y/n) seemed to come to this realization as well, and she stuttered for a moment, blinking quickly before she nodded, stepping closer to Tom. “I would love to, um, three broomsticks? I know a corner in there that’s nice and quiet?”

Tom nodded-he really didn’t go to Hogsmeade often, he found nothing of interest there. But he supposed now there was someone of interest there worth going for-especially if she already had a place for them to go that was quiet and secluded, just how he liked it. “Sounds good,” Tom breathed, a smile growing on his face that had (y/n) staring at him, and her smile grew, reaching to her eyes.

God, he never stood a chance, did he?

“Great, I’ll-I’ll see you then,” (y/n) said, her voice wavering with excitement and Tom nodded, his hands behind his back as (y/n) skipped back with a grin, waving goodbye and then running towards her friends who had been waiting for her, and Tom couldn’t help his smile when she screamed and jumped into Viktoria’s arms. “Tom Riddle asked me out!!!”

“You just asked (y/n) Alexander out,” Abraxas said from behind Tom and Tom whirled around, very aware that his face was bright red and he was grinning like a madman. “yeah-I did….I have no idea how to go on a date,” Tom said after a short pause, still grinning-he couldn’t stop.

Abraxas just laughed and Nott stared, unsure of how to handle any of this. “We’ll help, my lord.”

-

The next week passed by both quickly and all too slowly. Nerves jumbled about in Tom’s gut as the weekend came ever closer, he could hardly focus in classes-all he could think about was (y/n). God, he had actually asked her out-after nearly two years of staring and (unknowing) yearning, he was going on a date with the first person he had ever felt attracted to. His stomach had been doing somersaults all week at the thought of her, of their upcoming date-and the idea that it might turn into…something more.

The Chamber and his Horcrux research had been pulled off the stove-only (y/n) Alexander remained.

His followers were-no help. They just made him more nervous will all the “advice” they gave him.

“Don’t be overbearing,”(duh?)

“Don’t only talk about yourself, girls hate that,”(also duh)

“But don’t ask about her too much she’ll get overwhelmed,”(Tom was beginning to doubt these knuckleheads had ever gone on a date)

“make sure to order for her, girls like it when a man takes charge,”(yeah he wasn’t going to take Black’s advice)

“be cool and aloof-like you always are really,” (Tom thought (y/n) liked it when he fumbled a bit honestly, she seemed charmed when he was making a fool of himself asking her out.)

But really, Walter Deville had the best advice for Tom when the time came around for the date-he took Tome aside as he passed by him in the hall, giving a stern look to Tom’s followers who were ready to protest. “Look, Tom, I’m going to give it to you straight, (y/n) is a lady, you must remember that, but she is not judgmental, she does not care for your background nor your status.” Tom felt some of the nerves in his gut decrease a bit-but Walter wasn’t done. “She likes you, Tom, she really does like you, but she has a very high standard-not out of training from her mother or the family, but for herself, if you do not treat her with kindness and be a false version of yourself around her; she will drop you quicker than a basilisk can kill. Treat her well, and treat her kindly, or you will regret it.”

Tom swallowed at the last bit-very much hearing the seriousness in Walter’s voice. It wasn’t a ‘we will hurt you if you hurt her,’ it was ‘she will hurt you if you hurt her,’ and Tom didn’t doubt she would. “Clear?” Waler asked, grinning as Tom nodded. “Crystal,” Tom muttered, stumbling forward as Walter laughed and slapped Tom’s back.

“Oh don’t be so grim! I have faith in you, Tom,” With another pat on Tom’s back, Walter walked off, and Tom was just as nervous as he was before.

-

Tom had very few outfits, he had his uniform and its extra pants, shirts, and vests, his uniform from the orphanage, a suit(a gift from the Malfoys for a Christmas party from last year), and very little extra. He ended up wearing the suit because he didn’t think anything else fit the situation.

He hoped (y/n) wouldn’t be put off by the lack of casualty, but he had an inkling she wouldn’t mind at all.

She didn’t, her eyes traveling his well-dressed form with appreciation and a heat that made Tom’s ears burn, coughing slightly into his fist. “hi,” she said quietly, stepping closer to him as he waited for her by the carriages to Hogsmeade. “hello,” Tom said back, his lip quirking. (y/n) Alexander looked-breath taking, her skirt flowing gently in the late fall breeze.

“You look very handsome,” (y/n) said with a soft smile, her hands moving up to tug at his suit jacket, holding each side with both hands and getting a better look at what lay beneath the jacket. “Thank you, you look-“ Tom could hardly finish his sentence, just letting out a slow breath that had (y/n) giggling, her smile growing.

“let’s get going, shall we?” (y/n) asked, taking Tom’s arm as he offered it and he nodded, leading her to a carriage and helping her inside like the gentleman he was; taking the seat from across her-the two falling into a comfortable conversation as the carriage went off to Hogsmeade.

(y/n) indeed had a quiet corner for the two of them, hidden away from the noise and tucked away from sight, letting them talk quietly and share small smiles and glances they didn’t have to worry about others seeing.

Tom, quite honestly, had never expected to have such fun on a date; he never expected to go on a date ever really. But here he was, on one with (y/n) Alexander, at the three broomsticks; drinking butterbeer and sharing an appetizer.

Tom could hardly keep track of what they talked about-but he felt himself grow more comfortable and his nerves almost disappear the longer they sat there. Tom chuckled at something she said and she stared-smirking a bit as Tom cleared his throat at her gaze-his ears burning. “I like your laugh,” she muttered, leaning on her arm, her eyes burning into his soul.

“Thank you,” Tom muttered, licking his lips nervously, which were quirking up into a smile that mirrored (y/n)’s gentle one. “You don’t laugh often, do you? At least not genuinely.” (y/n) asked, tilting her head a bit and Tom shrugged.

“Not much that I find genuinely funny, really,” Tom muttered, rolling his jaw a bit but (y/n) just laughed, biting her lip. “Suppose you find me funny then? Good, wouldn’t do us any good if you didn’t.” Tom laughed gently again, but nodded in agreement.

“I do,” Tom mumbled, hiding his slight flush behind his glass of Butterbeer. (y/n)’s soft grin widened and Tom’s blush darkened a bit, drifting his eyes away from (y/n)’s gaze. God he was absolutely gone for this girl, he really never stood a chance.

They talked for a bit longer, and (y/n) eventually gave him a look that made him go quiet, tilting his head in curiosity. “this is your first date, right?” she asked and Tom slowly nodded. “yes, I’ve never been interested in anyone else,” Tom said honestly and (y/n) glanced away with a chuckle, hiding her grin in her shoulder.

“I don’t suppose it’s yours though,” Tom said, glancing down at his hands. (y/n) nodded, but then shrugged. “Yes, but this is the first date I actually wanted to be on though, so-you’ve already made top marks.”

Tom frowned, glancing up at (y/n) who was shifting in her seat. “Wanted to be on?” Tom asked curiously and (y/n) nodded, glancing down at her watch.

“Yes, my mother likes to set me up on dates hoping i'll find a suitor that adheres to my tastes-but I have yet to find one in the ones she sends. Usually, they’re all pompous bores who couldn’t care less about me other than my money and what status they’ll gain by being with me,” Tom slowly nodded, hoping she didn’t think he was doing the same thing.

Honestly-half the time he forgot (y/n) was an Alexander, or was more well known as Lady (y/n) Alexander, and not the amazing girl he had been crushing on since 3rd year and had only realized it the previous summer.

“Why is she setting you up on dates?” Tom asked, leaning back in his chair, his face set into a perfect calm. (y/n) sighed, leaning into her palm, her eyes distant. “She wishes for me to marry by twenty, something about heirs and my duty as Lady Alexander,” Tom swallowed the pit in his throat, his eyes drawing down. He knew (y/n) did not care for status and money, but her parents most likely did, and Tom was not a man of status-even if he was descended directly from Slytherin, and from his limited research, his father was of the high class.

But Tom had no money, and his father had no knowledge of him-besides, Tom had no want for that acknowledgment.

“Tom,” he looked up, and swallowed again as (y/n) reached across the table and took his folded hands with a smile. “things like status and money do not matter to my family, my mother just wishes for me to be taken care of if anything should happen to the Alexander fortune. Most of all she wishes for me to find love, to be treated kindly, and be held dearly; if I married a poor man with nothing to his name-if all he could give me was his heart and soul-my family would be overjoyed that I had found a man like that.”

Tom just stared, that pit in his throat only growing heavier as he blinked back a burn in his eyes. “Oh,” Tom breathed instead of responding, his cheeks flushing as (y/n) smiled at him. His heart was beating out of his chest-trying to hop into (y/n)’s hands and be kept.

He was so-fucking-doomed.

-

“Is-is he smiling? Actually smiling?” Black asked quietly as he, Abraxas, Nott and Mulciber all watched as Tom walked through Hogsmeade with (y/n) Alexader tucked into his side, the two holding hands and talking quietly-both of them smiling.

“Yep, he’s smiling…” Abraxas muttered, leaning against a wall and watching as the two new lovebirds walked past, (y/n) tugging Tom into honey-dukes with shining eyes as Tom chuckled fondly.

“He is gone gone for her,” Avery said as he walked up, hands in his pockets. The other boys nodded; they had a feeling certain planned things had quickly gone down the drain all thanks to (y/n) Alexander.

Oh, the things Love can change.

-one year later-

 Tom was very sure he was deeply in love with (y/n) Alexander, for one year after they began dating-she stood with him in the chamber of secrets, discovering his past, all his darkest desires and wishes-and was not deterred by any of it. If anything-her affection towards him seemed to grow, for as he spoke to open the chamber, she stepped closer, carefully watching his lips as he spoke parseltongue. She immediately closed her eyes and let him guide her as he summoned the basilisk-putting her utmost faith and trust in him as he placed her hand upon its scaley nose.

Tom had never felt more love for her and had never felt more love from her for him, he had trusted her with his deepest secrets over the last year as they dated, even his wish to become immortal, even his fear of letting love into his heart.

And she never shied away, she never shunned him, she only took his hands and held him close-guiding him through the pitch-black maze of his mind. He even told her about his plan for Horcruxes.

He ended up with a dead stare and a long sigh. “That’s-quite honestly Tom, so stupid.” She muttered and Tom frowned, taking a step back but she stopped him and took his face, giving him a smile that was slightly strained. “I do not think of you any different, but dark magic such as that is not worth it, yes your soul will live on but it will be shattered and disfigured, leaving you with ultimately a cursed life and weaker magic because it is so strained across the separated souls. If you wish to live forever-I will be by your side, but horcruxes are a stupid and simply bad idea.”

Tom…honestly couldn’t argue with that. (y/n) smiled and pecked the corner of his lips, which made Tom want to tilt his head slightly so he could kiss her properly-but at that point they hadn’t had their first kiss yet. “Promise me you’ll drop the idea of it? Horcruxes?” (y/n) asked gently, still holding his face, looking into his eyes.

Tom nodded immediately, he would do anything for (y/n), anything. She smiled and kissed his cheek again, moving her hands down to grab his and guiding him from the chamber and back up to Hogwarts. Tom only felt a slight pit of guilt in his gut, since last year, just before school ended-he had attempted to create a Horcrux by using the chamber, but it had eventually slipped his mind as (y/n) took over all thoughts of his plans for it.

But he had never truly opened the chamber of secrets-and he would keep his promise to (y/n), he would find a way to become immortal, and he would share it with his (y/n) Alexander, so they would be together forever.

-

Tom took a deep breath that rattled in his chest as he stood before (y/n)’s father's office doors in the Alexander mansion, it was the spring break of their final year, and Tom had been invited over since he was dating the heiress to the fortune. In his pocket, he had a small box that contained a silver ring with a small obsidian piece mounted atop-it was all he could afford with the money he scrapped from his last year of stipend from the Hogwarts fund.

It helped that (y/n) had insisted on buying him new robes and taking care of this year's curriculum items-as a gift for becoming head boy. He had tried to deny it all but with a stubborn huff from his beloved (y/n) Alexander, Tom relented with a soft smile and sigh, following her around as she bought his books and whatever else he might need.

Tom took another deep breath-nerves settled deep in his stomach and knocked on Lord Alexander's office door. “Come in, come in,” He called and Tom opened the door and stepped inside, giving a polite nod to John Alexander-the father of his girlfriend(and hopefully soon to be, fiancée)

“Tom, how nice to see you, how can I help you son?” John said with a grin, putting down his quill and setting his intertwined hands on the desk, giving Tom a warm grin. Tom opened his mouth a few times, and then shut it-unsure of how to say anything. The Alexanders were one the top families of both the muggle world and wizarding world, the Deville’s being the top dogs really, was Tom really going to soil their family line? To bring a bastard son into their practically royalty family?

Yes, yes he was-because he loved (y/n) and he didn’t want to let her go to some-rude rich boy who didn’t know how to love her correctly. “i-I was hoping,” Tom started, clearing his throat as his voice cracked. John’s smile only grew, seemingly knowing what Tom was about to ask. “if…” Tom took another deep breath, straightening his back and looking Lord Alexander in the eye. “I was hoping you would approve of me asking for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” Tom got out in one breath, his jaw clicking as Lord Alexander just stared at him, that warm smile still there-but a twinkle in his eye that made Tom nervous.

“i-I love her dearly Lord Alexander. I do not have money, and I have no status to offer her, nor do I have a proud lineage or background, but I would love her for the rest of my life, and beyond it. I know there are many men who you would prefer her to marry but-“ Tom was stopped with a hand to a shoulder, and he hadn’t realized he had been staring at his shoes. Tom looked up, seeing John-beaming.

“I would be honored if my daughter married a good man like you Tom, you love her dearly and that is all I could wish for my little girl, as does her mother. You have my blessing Tom Riddle; you’ve had it since we first met.” Tom, actually felt like crying-staring wide-eyed at John, who chuckled and opened his arms for a hug-knowing Tom didn’t like to be touched without permission. Tom stepped into his arms and squeezed, a few tears escaping his closed eyes as John hugged him tightly. “Welcome to the family Tom, I cannot wait to call you my son.”

Tom smiled into John’s shoulder, sniffing slightly as John patted his back and took a step back. “Thank you sir, I’ll cherish her forever,” Tom said quietly, smiling still as John nodded-patting Tom’s shoulder again.

“I know you will, now come on, I think the girls are outside having lunch.” Tom nodded and turned on his heel-unable to keep the smile off his face as he walked outside to the patio to see his girlfriend(hopefully soon to be fiancée) sitting under the sun with her mother, Viktoria, and Lucy, the four sharing a plate of snacks and tea by the pool.

“Tom~” (y/n) sang, holding out her hands to him and he quickly walked over to her-giving one last thankful smile to John before taking his beloved (y/n)’s hands, stepping close and moving his other hand to her shoulder as she leaned against him. “How nice for you two to join us! We were just talking about you,”

“Good things I hope,” Tom joked, obeying (y/n)’s tug as she made him sit down with her on the chair, his gaze and smile softening as she chattered away John mirroring Tom’s position as he sat with his wife. “of course,” (y/n) said with a tone that meant she was lying and not trying to hide it, and Tom sighed shaking his head fondly.

Oh, how he loved (y/n) Alexander and had never expected it.

Perhaps it was a good thing he had let it slip he had a crush at the Slughorn after-party last year. If he hadn’t-he didn’t think he would’ve gained the courage to ask (y/n) out after that fated quidditch match.

-end-

Part 2 - its just fluff lol

[inarmes]

when people stop using the excuse of “olive [skin] is a spectrum!” when referring to any character that hails from the seam, i can die peacefully.

for reference: the seam — dark hair (straight, with the exception of haymitch and his curly hair,) olive skin, gray eyes. (e.g, katniss, gale and the hawthornes, haymitch.)

merchants — blonde hair (curly,) pale skin, blue eyes. (peeta, delly cartwright, mrs. everdeen and primrose.)

yes, in the case of the seamfolk, it is definitely possible that they are simply tan white people. however, in the racial context of appalachia, there is a population of native americans (who often have olive skin and straight dark hair,) along with the melungeon population (which includes people of color.)

suzanne collins would've made the distinction, as she did for the merchants if they were white. this theory is unlikely though, considering that systematic oppression plays a role within their race. (the seam are worse off; they're the poorest part of the district with people casually dying of starvation in the streets, they're also workers in the mines and more likely to have lung problems/die from mine collapses if not explosions. they also run a black market for sake of trades and food. the merchants run shops and are better off than the seam.)

i'm not saying at all that white people can't be olive skinned, i do very much agree with that and it's something i acknowledge. but again, appalachia, where twelve is located, has a population of people of color in which fit the description (which could likely be native americans.) there's a stark difference in both sides of twelve's population and their races, and if suzanne had made the seamers with the intention of them being white in mind, katniss simply could've said it was a white-predominant population with the notion of seamfolk being darker.

with all of this in mind, no matter how you flip it, the seam-originating characters in the movies are whitewashed. and that takes away from the history of these people and takes from their oppression and representation of history in a book that already deals with racial issues and such things.

[ms--lobotomy]

Happy Mermay to all who celebrate! Here's the beginning of a little series with Mothman. [Next]

Summary: You and your crew are called in to rescue a large beached mammal. The creature is more human than you expected.

Word Count: 1301

Content Warnings: Injury and blood, needles/injections, Morty's kind of a prick but he's HURTING ok??

Image Credit: @squishyowl (the tentacles fit really well here)

It was beginning to get ungodly hot out this time of year, even at this time in the morning. You'd woke up, donned a tank top and some shorts and went out with a team of wildlife rescuers from the aquarium nearest you, ready for anything. From the conversation between the other six rescuers, you gathered that it was a rather large, mammalian creature. A manatee, most likely. You shuffled your feet, excited for your first manatee rescue. Other animals were quite nice too, you'd just never rescued an entire beached manatee before.

The vehicle pulled up at the beach, not bothering to find a parking spot. You exited the vehicle with your coworkers, grabbing supplies for marine mammal rescue. Looking at the ground, you bumped into the tallest one, a large, bulky man you'd known as Typhus.

"Sorry!" you exclaimed, and he chuckled in front of you.

"You're okay," he said as you and your team found your way to the boardwalks. Typhus and some of the more physically strong members were carrying the stretcher, you were carrying one of the signs for civilians to keep away. You never knew who would be at the beach at 4 am.

The two at the front stopped dead in their tracks when they saw what was beached. You ran into Typhus's back again as he stopped suddenly, and he didn't respond. You peeked out from behind him, and your eyes widened.

"No way..." the other at the front said, a short, portly girl with a brown ponytail. She shone her phone light on the merman in front of everyone.

You were the first to come up to him, running towards him from behind Typhus. He and the rest followed you, but he didn't break out into a sprint like you did, your sneakers digging into the rough sand. As you came closer, you heard faint cries in a low, raspy voice.

You knelt next to him after casting the sign aside. He was pale, paler than most people you'd seen. His hair was stark white, but his face wasn't too lined. His eyes were seaweed green, and his tail shone in the phone light. It was yellow and green, spotted with a forked tail. He was large, very large. Your head and torso combined were less than his torso. And he was covered in scars, fresh and still bleeding. There was blood pooling in the sand.

"You're..." you said as Typhus and then the others came up to you, standing behind you.

The merman groaned, moving onto his side to face your entourage. "Who are you," he rasped, retreating back into himself.

"We... we're here from the local aquarium," you said as you and a few others began to dress his wounds. He winced as you touched them, towels lapping up fresh blood. "We're going to fix you up for a bit and then release you, okay?"

You felt one of the others' stares hot on your back. You looked behind you towards a shorter man, skinny with hair going just beyond his shoulders. He looked down, and you turned back and cleared your throat. He regarded all of you with a glare.

"Release me now," he huffed.

"I..." you started before Typhus cleared his throat. He knelt down next to you.

"We can't release you," said Typhus. He was closer to his face, and you looked at him. He had a little bit of scruff on his face, and his olive skin glowed in the light of the phone flashlight.

"That's bullshit," cried a voice from behind you. You turned to see another shorter man with cropped hair. "If the government finds out about this guy, they're going to take him and..." he stopped, folding his hands.

You gulped. "He's right," you said. "We get a lot of our funding from the state. If they find out he's a merman, they might do things to him that I personally don't want," I said.

"Well, are you just going to release him then?" asked a girl just a little taller than you. She crossed her arms as you ran your towel along another wound.

"I can go back--" he started before you interjected.

"There's a saltwater pool at the place I rent," you said. "I'm sorry, but we can't let you out like this. We're going to give you some stitches in the van, and then you're going to stay in my pool until you recover. After that, I promise we can release you."

He sighed. "Fine," he huffed. "My father will be wondering where I am, though..."

"He'll know in due time," you said as the stronger members of your team began to hoist him onto the stretcher. His tail and his head peeked off of it, and you dashed towards his head to steady it. He looked at you with a gruff expression as he was carried off of the beach and onto the boardwalk.

"Look. I barely know you, but my job is to keep you safe and healthy, alright?" you said quietly towards him. "Can you tell me your name, at least?"

"Mortarion."

"That's lovely, Mortarion. I'm..." you said your name just like you've said it a thousand times before.

He grumbled in response as you hauled him off of the boardwalk and into the vehicle. The back was filled with medical supplies, old things repurposed into animal rehabilitation equipment. But what was before you teetered on the precipice between animal and man like you had never seen before.

"Quickly!" shouted the last one to get in the van. They put on a long white lab coat, tying back their long blonde hair as the rest of the team rushed around them. "Get me the anesthetic."

You turned around. There was a general anesthetic behind you. Perfect. You grabbed it and strode over towards the doctor, putting it in their hand.

"It might take me a while to find his veins," they whispered in your ear. "Can you... can you calm him down while I figure him out?"

"Yes, Stella," you nodded, looking at him. He was groaning in pain again, his eyes half open. You sheepishly walked your way down to him and knelt to his eye level. His hair was in his face, so you brushed it out of him. He recoiled at first, but after breathing a little bit, he relaxed.

"We're here to help you," you said quietly while the rest of the group scurried around you.

"You've said that," he sighed. "I want to go back."

"Whatever hurt you hurt you good," you replied. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? I promise you it will be a few weeks at the most."

"I suppose I don't have a choice in the matter," he said. Stella grabbed his arm, looking for a place to insert the needle.

"How well do you do with needles?" you asked, assuming they had needles underwater.

"I am nothing if not resilient," he grumbled. "A needle is nothing."

"Alright, I found a vein, I'm about to inject him," said Stella.

"Okay, Mortarion," you started. "You're going to be knocked out for this, but we're going to stitch up your wounds. You're going to recover in my pool for a short period, then we're going to release you. Then you can tell your father everything that happened. I promise you, you're going to be safe here." You grabbed for his free hand, and he let you take it, your fingers barely able to mesh with his.

"Very well," he sighed.

"Alright, it's going in in 3... 2... 1..."

"Count for me," you said.

"Just count?" he asked, puzzled.

"That's what the doctor told me to do when I went under last time."

"Doctor?" he asked. "Alright. One, two..."

[itsyourfarmerboycowjima]

The air hung heavy with the scent of lavender and the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Tendou Satori, sprawled across the bed, his crimson hair a halo against the white sheets, was lost in a world of his own. He was gazing at something, a picture maybe, or perhaps just a memory, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, his olive hair a stark contrast against the pale walls, stood at the foot of the bed, watching Tendou. His gaze, usually so unwavering, was soft, filled with a tenderness that he rarely allowed himself to express. He yearned to reach out, to brush a stray strand of hair from Tendou's forehead, to trace the curve of his cheek with his thumb, but he held back.

They had been friends for years, their bond forged in the heat of the volleyball court, their shared passion for the sport a language they understood better than words. Somewhere along the way, their friendship had blossomed into something deeper, something that made Ushijima's heart beat faster and his palms sweat when Tendou was near. But the fear of jeopardizing their friendship, of pushing away the one person he cherished most, kept him silent.

Tendou, oblivious to Ushijima's internal turmoil, continued to smile, his eyes sparkling with a light that Ushijima longed to be a part of. He wanted to tell Tendou how his laughter filled his days with sunshine, how his presence made the world seem brighter. He wanted to confess that he loved him, not just as a friend, but as someone who yearned for him, dreamt of him, ached for him.

But the words remained trapped in his throat, a silent symphony of unspoken emotions. He turned, his gaze lingering on Tendou for a moment longer than necessary before he finally left the room, leaving Tendou to his own thoughts, and Ushijima to his own unspoken yearning.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (04x10)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 10: Million Dollar Baby

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: crazy rich white people, and perverts

Word Count: I am suffering from some kind of allergies that are making me cough incessantly (did I use that word right?)

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera recorded darkness before a few familiar voices came up. “I  ain't never rep a set, baby (Tsk, tsk) I ain't do no wrong I could clean up good for you Oh, I know right from wrong 'Cause I wanna make it so badly I'm a million-dollar baby, don't at me-“ Another voice cut the whispered sing-song. “Scott, Shhhh!” “Sorry,” Scott whispered. “Javi, are the cameras working?” The screen lit up with Scott’s face looking right into the lens. He wore a white t-shirt under an oversized light blue shirt with beige trousers. The broad-rimmed black glasses sitting on his nose were hard to miss. The frame cut to Peter’s face as the boy tried to set his now overgrown lush hair so they rested right above his pair of broad-rimmed brown glasses. This time a pair of olive-toned arms came into the frame to correct the gold necklace with a beetle for a pendant resting around Peter's neck. The frame cut to Javier this time, who was the one correcting Peter’s concealed camera cum ‘necklace’ before giving the spider man a thumbs up. “Are the mics working? Are our earpieces working?” Scott whispered into his necklace, getting a thumbs up from both the boys. Javier’s device was a ‘green gem’ embedded in a teddy bear pendant. The boy was looking clean in an olive blazer and trousers over a black t-shirt. The boys were dressed to impress. “Everyone remembers what we have to do?” Sam’s voice crinkled through the earpiece. Peter and Scott nodded before affirming with their words. Javier simply gave a thumbs-up to Scott’s body cam. “Where’s our fourth player?”

The door to the van opened and the six feet tall figure of Loki stood outside. The God was dressed in a sky blue shirt with its sleeves rolled up to show his entire left arm freshly tattooed. Javier could be seen twisting the edge of his digital watch to let the spy cam inside the watch focus on the intricate designs of dragons, daggers, the portrait of Loki’s mom and one tiny Ice Bear from Bare Bears. Our boy made sure he recorded the movement of that veiny tatted arm rising and running his long pale fingers through his hair pulled back into a ponytail. His wide-ankle navy blue jeans added to the effect of making him one irresistible bad boy who was about to steal your girl. “Oh my God, Loki,” Scott let out an exasperated whisper, shaking his head in disbelief before going into his fanny pack and pulling out a golden tear drop earring and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and putting them on the God without hesitation. “That’s better.” There was a second of silence when everyone else waited for Loki to react to the invasion of his space. But all the God did was look down at his attire and then back at the boys with a genuine question. “Does this look convincing enough?” The lens focused on the unadulterated concern in his eyes.

Sam: I almost feel bad for sending Loki on the mission. *concern spilling from his eyes* look at him. He thinks he needs to look convincing for the part of a mafia boss wanting in on a new drug deal. *squints in frustration* Bro’s already got the gangster shoulders for that. All he has to do is run them hands through his hair and people are going to drool all over the floor *exhales with a mocking tone*

The boys walked to the entrance of a huge metal gate with intricate design, wherein they were stopped by a Caucasian guard with a heavy build. "This is a private property," he stated, never blinking. Loki's glasses caught Scott giving an air of offence at those words. "And we are private people," the Ant-man declared with a soft tone that had weight.

Peter: *wide-eyed* it's like I was looking at a different man! It's like someone super rich who buys buildings because someone told him he couldn't.

"You don't even have a car." The guards did not blink until the last minute. Scott put his hands in his pant pockets and exhaled for the act. "Would you bring your car to this private evening, Beau Coolberg?" The guard lost his composure, suddenly blinking and sweating. "The password, sir?" he asked politely before bringing out his tablet to punch in a few digits. Scott rolled his eyes at the man before stressing the words through his teeth. "Tiki Mori." The guard nodded and pulled himself aside, signalling the other guard under him to bring forward the golf cart. "Enjoy your evening, Mr Antony," he fumbled the words. Scott took a step towards the man who was sweating. "Oh, I will, Beau. The question is...will you?" And with that Scott sat himself at the back and the boys followed. "You're gonna get fired, bro," the mics picked the other guard declaring to his senior as the cart moved towards the mansion's front door. Peter looked at the Ant-man wide-eyed. "How did you-" Scott shrieked. "OhmygodIthoughtIwasgonnagettased."

.

The inside of the mansion looked less like a luxury abode and more like a frat house with a spoiled brat' vibe to it. Young men and women walked about with drinks in their hands, talking, smoking, arguing, vaping, getting high, getting freaky. There were a few older men. greys in their hair, flirting their way to girls half their age. Older women loved the attention from young men and women alike, not to mention their lungs' unrivalled capacity to out-smoke the little ones surrounding them. "Perk up, boys. Our mans is entering at eleven o'clock," Scott declared to his team, alerting them to get ready with their act as they spread through the room and act as if they do not know each other. All was quiet and bougie till Loki furrows his brows and looks down at Scott. "Did you just say perk up?"

Sam: *takes in a lungful* *camera zooms in* *shakes his head* his therapist has failed us.

*Natasha's voice comes from somwhere outside the frame* Who? Loki?

Sam: No! Scott!

A blonde man who could be in his late forties entered the hallway. The tan on his face did not match the tone of his pale under eyes. His smile exposed his exceptional white-washed teeth while his clothes only spoke French. "Bonjour, Antony!" The rich white man walked towards Scott with his arms wide open. "Please, Teflon," Scott rolled his eyes, "call me Antonius." "Only if you call me Musk," Teflon added before guffawing the laugh of a gold-spooned nepotism baby. The boys' cameras caught the Ant-Man visibly getting uncomfortable while matching the rich man's laugh. "And why are your friends scattered away from you?" he pointed out at every single one of our men in the room. 'Antonious' pulls out another rich man guffaw. "They are not my friends, Teflon." "But you registered them all under your codename." "DAMITT SCOTT!!" Sam could be heard through the comms. "They are my boys," Scott hopped in quickly for a save. "They are my brothers, Tef. They might not be my blood but they sure as hell will draw it, if need be. So-" Scott reflected a serious demeanour in front of the host- "do not insult them by calling them just my friends." The camera zoomed in on Javi and Peter's horror-struck faces already stuffed with cream lobster.

Peter: For a moment there I felt our cover would be blown this time. For. Sure. *camera zooms out to show Javi sitting next to Peter* Javi: *signing* I think our cover was blown but Scott was too proud to admit it and instead asked Dr Strange to reset the time. Peter: *looking at Javi in shock* BRO! *exasperation suddenly turns into a calm demeanour* You know what, that can happen *looks back at the camera* *nods* That can happen.

"Come, meet my boys," Scott told Teflon, before signalling the 'boys' to come over. "This is my boy Theo, short for Theodore. This is Luther. This is my boy Dan. Dan does not speak because he has taken a vow of silence to show respect for the souls of the poor kids who lost their homes in the recent...curfuffle." Javi automatically folded his hands and did a little bow. Teflon reacted with a pippy 'oh!' and mimicked Javi for a second. "Sad, isn't it, Antony? If it were to men like us, there simply wouldn't be a problem like this." Scott is halfway through his nod when Teflon chimed, "Because we would have simply nuked that country!" and added roaring laughter. Scott mirrored the roar as well, but his sounded more like a realisation of horror. The man threw his head back at his own joke, never noticing Scott turn his fingers into a fist and launching himself at him. The boys stopped him, grabbing onto his arms and waist and forcing him to not break character.

Two Minutes Later The man was still laughing. "Come on, man. Just let me hit him once. I'll make it look like an accident!" Scott begged. Loki simply gestured him to shush by putting his finger on his lips, making the Ant Man go quiet sooner than anticipated. Javi's camera glasses zoomed in on the coy man.

Scott: What? *lowers his voice a little with a hint of softness* You shut up when Loki tells you to shut up. *shrugs his shoulders* I regret nothing.

"I thought Teflon threw great parties," Loki finally spoke- but with an American accent- acting as though he was disinterested in his surroundings, "if I knew you were bringing me to some old ass mixer I would've gone to my neighbour's orgy, Ant...ony." Teflon looked at the man who was a foot taller than him and patted him on his shoulder. "Big boys don't show their toys at the mansion gates, Luther. They keep them hidden away for special people and special occasions." The man flashes his pearly white smile and led the way. "Come, I'll introduce you to some of my special guests."

One Hour Later The 'boys' were scattered throughout the place. Scott was outside in the garden, charming his way through the old men crowd. Peter was sitting in between the old white ladies, never breaking a sweat as they fed him everything and chatted with him like they knew him from ages. Javi was on the first floor trying to get away from the three white girls stoned out of their minds, constantly wanting to touch the poor boy. Loki was on the first floor too, standing in a corner that was close to the entrance as well as the balcony, and it had a clear view of the door that led to Teflon's son's office. The God was nursing his drink, letting the ice clink with the thick glass as his whiskey watched him never touch his lips. "Nice tatts," a girl complimented the God; who did not bother responding. "I said nice tatts," she raised a tone, inching in closer, instinctively forcing Loki to scooch away from her, only giving her a single-second stare of judgment before returning to his drink. "Rude," she snapped before her offended expression turned into a smirk. "I like it. Do it more," she purred, inching closer to Loki. Javi ignored the ladies and started walking towards the God upon seeing him in trouble. "Back off, bitch! He's mine!" Scott growled from behind the girl, scaring her away by pretending to bite her with a feral look in his eyes. The moment she was out of the frame, Scott transformed back into his usual self. "Nothing downstairs," he concluded to Loki as well to Sam. Both looked at Javi, who simply shook his head before joining the two. "Uh, guys?" Peter's voice crackled through the comms. "All that recon and still no leads?" Another familiar voice came through the earpieces, this time taking everyone's attention. "Natasha?" Loki was the first to answer. "Just like all the rizz and still no gals," Natasha cooed, laughing at her joke. Javi rolled his eyes. Loki squared his lips. "Hey! I got my gals," Scott hissed through his mic, "and my gal got me. Don't include me in this dry hoe group." Loki and Javi looked at Scott with murderous stares. Scott showed no signs of regret. "Natasha, please tell me you have some information on the package before I rip Scott's skull from his shoulders in front of five hundred people," Loki pressed, never taking his eyes off Scott's head. "Did you check Leo?" she sounded bored. "Teflon's son?" Scott mocked a laugh, "Of course, we did. That druggie has zero clue about who is sitting next to him. I'm sure he is the last person who would know where a bunch of super important papers are, Nats." Loki leans on the decorative table behind him, putting his free hand inside his pant pocket. "Unless he rolled those papers to smoke some pot," he casually added. Javi and Scott stared at Loki with a hint of horror. Loud music and elated screams of the guests could be heard in the background.

No one spoke for a good stretched moment. "Guys-" Peter tried to speak again -"you're not gonna believe who's here." "I do have information on the package, Loki," Natasha cut the boy short. "In fact, my apprentice has obtained the code to the safe where it's locked." "Apprentice?" Scott, Loki and Peter questioned in harmony. Javi, on the other hand, was slowly feeling his eyes widen and his lips parted in a mild surprise. Correction: the surprise, it seems, was not mild. "Wait-" Scott's eyes lit up momentarily- "is your little sister here? Oh my Gosh! Guys! Nat's little sis is here! I finally get to meet Black Widow Jr!!" "Guys!" Peter nearly shouted through the comms. "There is someone else here too!" It almost felt like his voice was cracking in his throat. "And...and-" The speakers in the house changed the song to a familiar track by Rusha and Blizza. The intro to 'Pashu Gudwan' amplified with every passing second. Javi was the first one to freeze where he stood. His eyes were stuck on something in the distance. His lips parted in mild shock, his elbow automatically nudging Scott. Scott whipped his head at the boy in confusion before following Javi's line of sight. The constricted brows behind the glasses were raised in exclamation. His mouth too went agape. Javi walked forward, the instinct of the camera guy in him wanting a closer look. But the poor guy tripped over a hungover frat boy, nearly falling face first if not for his own strong biceps stopping him.  "What are you talking about?" Loki was still trying to get the words out of Peter, pressing his earpiece to see if something was wrong with his gadget. He turned to Scott to wonder that out loud. "What is Peter talking-" One look at the surprise on Scott's face and the God was turning his head to see what more had made the Ant-Man drop his jaw. And when he did settle on his friends' line of sight, he could not believe what he was seeing either. "...uhhhh guys?" Sam was the only one unaware. The camera following Sam in the 'control room' somewhere nearby recorded the confusion and agitation on the man's face. Natasha- who stood motionless next to him- turned her head towards the camera and gave a suggestive smirk before turning to the screens.

.

From the outdoor lobby walked a pair of fine legs, covered in tattoos. If not for Javi lying halfway on the floor, no one would have guessed that all those tattoos were One Piece references beautifully decorating a pair of toned legs in booty shorts. The camera rose to capture the slightly visible abs adorning the abdomen with some fine curves. But that was not what made the frame visibly shake. It was the moment when the figure with those fine curves raised her arms to tie her hair, and the finely sculpted muscles on her back popped up to say hi. And when they walked past the camera, the backless top let the back muscles glare down at you and say 'you wish that were you, huh'. Peter too joined the two men staring at the figure walking towards them. It was you. Covered in tattoos. A naval ring. A nose ring. Dense kajal in your eyes. Deep purple hair with fresh bangs and a high ponytail. And gold-rimmed glasses. Loki too felt his jaw drop a little. His eyes blinked fast for a moment, considering whether you were a hallucination.

Scott: *flailing his hands as if pointing at the situation he was just in* *mouth agape* *shrieks* WHAT???!!!!! Peter: *screams in the background* *runs past the camera screaming* NOOOOO!!!!!! Scott: *falls on the floor sobbing* how can someone so innocent look so good in those goddamn tattoos!!! Peter: *screaming from a distance* LIKE A LESBIAN GODDESS!! Scott: *raises his tears-smeared face, snot falling from his nose* *whispers* Oh my God, she's a lesbian now

Before you could reach them and Scott could finish saying your name, a boy emerged and swooped you up in his arms, gathering a unified gasp from Scott and Peter, and Javi in the background. "Babe-" the 'boy' in question sang, before putting you down and kissing your bare shoulder- "you came!" "Isn't that...Leo?" Scott whispered to Peter. Blonde curls with a buzz cut for the sides, a ruby stud in the left ear, a tattoo in Korean reading 내 다리 사이의 열반 on the arm, a gold bracelet on the right wrist and a bulky bodyguard within three feet of that man. He was right. This was Leo. "Hey babe!" you cooed mildly, cupping his face as you brought it away from your shoulder and towards your own before wrapping your arms around his neck. The mics could hear the multiple pauses of breaths clear as a bomb explosion. "You promised this party won't be boring." Your fingers teased his lips before taking his mouth in a playful grip. "And you have like five minutes to impress me before I leave. Alone." You had an accent; a mild accent, nothing like the way you usually talk. Your body language was different too.

Javi: *signing* something is different about Y/N. She isn't walking with her usual shrimp back. Scott: *from outside the frame* Yeah, her back's straight. And arched to compliment her butt. *camera pans out to show Scott wiping his snot while still sniffling* Scott: *with freshly cried soaking voice* she has a straight back and an arch! Who the f@&$ hoe-d up my precious baby?

Leo growled at the proximity. With one hand on the small of your bare back, the other travelled to your ass, giving it a good squeeze. "I'll do it in three and you'll be begging me not to stop," he whispers in your ear before going in for a bite of your shoulder. Scott's grandmotherly instincts involuntarily took over as he grabbed the candlestick from the decorations behind him and started walking towards Leo. Before he could take even two steps, Loki's arm stopped him, putting him back in his position without much difficulty. The boys had their eyes on Loki, waiting for his reaction. The God did not flinch. He stood there, observing you. And Leo. You grabbed Leo's curls and pulled him away from your shoulders, earning a wince from his lips. "What did I tell you about my body?" you questioned him patiently, never breaking eye contact. "That I do not get to touch it till I've been a good boy," Leo gave you his best puppy dog eyes before letting his hands slowly leave your ass and your back. "Good boy-" you complimented him, making him smile the widest smile before he licked his lips and let his eyes roam all over your skin- "now, you seem to be keeping your guests waiting." Leo followed your gaze and saw the three men standing there stripping him with their stares. "Hey, I'm Leo. Teflon's my father. Welcome to the party."  "Ah, Leo," Scott was back into his character as if on instinct. "These are my boys Theo, Dan and Luther-" he announced but never pointed out who was who- "and I am Antony. And who might this beautiful lady be? Your sister?" Scott raised his hand to take yours, to which you obliged, and let him plant a little kiss before patting the top of your hand with his. You passed him a smirk. "This is my babe, Zenia." He was about to wrap his arm around your waist but reverted at the first sign of your piercing gaze as if remembering your rule. Javi's camera caught Loki hiding his smirk whilst he pretended to adjust his glasses. "Nice to meet you all," you acknowledged everyone before turning to Leo. "How about you make them feel welcome and I'll freshen up." Leo sucked in the air through his rounded lips. "Are we going to continue from where we left off that night?" he whispered; unfortunately, loud enough that the boys could hear it all. Peter averted his gaze, looking at anything but the two of you. Scott was still holding the candlestick but was gradually removing the holding plate from the rest of the stick.

Peter: *never coming in the frame* *groans weakly* somebody please pour acid in my eyes Scott: *sitting in front of the camera with a death stare* I'll continue from where you left off, Leo! *raises the candle stick with a menacing chuckle* Peter: *groans* somebody please pour acid in my ears

"Maybe," you nodded, building up a smirk, "if your office can take it." And with just that you left. At least that's what it felt like, save for the tiny second where Loki's camera caught your eyes staring directly into his before walking away.

.

Natasha sat in front of the screens that had mapped all the security cameras of the Teflon mansion. She watched you walk with the same sensuous gait you had bewildered the Avengers with just a few minutes ago.

Natasha: *proud smile* I taught her that *smile slowly turns into a frown* in ten hours. It took me ten hours to teach her a stupid walk because she hadn't walked like a woman. Ever. *pissed* *inhales* *exhales through her mouth* *in a calm voice* but she is doing better now *smiles again*

  "I'm proud to see you not letting go of your character after five minutes, Y/N. Good job," she announced through the comms. A low growl came from your end as you turned a corner and waived at a blonde high as a kite. "I hate that son of a bitch. I swear to God, Natasha, I will break his teeth if he tries to bite my shoulder one more time." Before Natasha could respond to your anger, Sam muted her end of the comms. "Seriously, Nat? Y/N?" Nat blinked at Sam before nodding, making Sam lose the air in his lungs from the mock laugh involuntarily coming out of him. "You sent Stark's daughter on a mission with the world's creepiest pervert. What were you thinking?" Natasha blinked again, this time furrowing her brows. "Aren't your boys on the same mission?" "That's different," Sam brushed the air with his hands. "So is she," Natasha shrugged. "Your boys can't enter Leo's bedroom. She can." She pointed at the screen just as the security guards opened the door to the entire wing that was Leo's, where only a select few people could be seen. Taking the drink offered by the waiter at the door, you walked up the marble stairs as if you belonged there. No one second-guessed your presence as you walked through the corridors to the end of the hallway. The music was loud here too. The crowd here was less drunk and more high. You could hear moans and groans coming out of different rooms. But you walked past them all. Dropping the contents of your glass in the nearest potted plant, your legs increased their speed a little when they got close to the door. What you did not notice- but the cameras did- was a man following you. "Nat-" Sam's voice reflected the worry of watching a stranger follow you. "He's not from Leo's security," Nat responded, watching the feed as his hands went to his belt. Both Natasha and Sam unmuted the comms in unison. "Y/N, there's-" Before they could finish shouting their sentence, a gust of wind- with a dark figure- came from the left door, and pushed the man into room to the right. "What?" you stopped right outside your destination for a second before turning back. "What?" you asked again. "Nothing," your guardians declared in unison. You nodded, turned around and entered through the door. Muting the comms, Natasha and Sam stared at each other. "That was..." Natasha did not finish her sentence, looking at Sam for confirmation. Sam blinked at the footage a few times before looking at Natasha. "It better be someone on our side because I swear to God I ain't got time to deal with ghosts." Natasha shrugged, brushing the air around her, "It's probably Loki." She then turned away from Sam and looks right into the camera to whisper, "I pray." Sam whipped his head in her direction, looking at her with deep offence stuck in his neck.

  Leo's private room camera feed took the main screen, showing you entering the door and turning right to where the bedroom was. You kneeled down by the bed to open the bedside drawer and click something on the underbelly. Natasha and Sam watched as the drawer hissed, and a false hood opened inside. Your hand went inside and brought out a transparent one-by-three-inch plastic plate. "What's that?" Sam had to ask. "It's a floppy or memory plate of some kind," you answered while walking to the other end of the private wing. You opened the door to the office and walked straight to the cabinet on the opposite wall. Natasha cursed under her breath as she noticed something in the corner of the live feed, going for the mic. "Miss Y/L/N?" a voice from behind you made you jump. It was one of Leo's security detail. The screen showed you immediately hiding the memory plate in your back pocket. "Hey!" your body language changed again, the arch in back coming back again and the sultry in your voice getting heavy. "I thought I was alone in here. Well, at least that's what Leo told me when he said he'd join me." But the man did not flinch. Instead, he took a step towards you. "Ma'am, what do you have in your pocket?" "Hmm?" you tried to act all innocent. Letting your hands dig into your pocket, you bit your lips and took out something shiny. "Not very discreet, am I?" "She has a condom," Sam whispered through the anxiety in his lungs. The security guy was still unfazed. "Ma'am, I need you to step out of the office," he made it sound like a request but his tone had other intentions. Natasha tried to get a read on the guy, who had his back to the camera, while you walked to your left towards the desk and sat on it. "Oh, come on, now. Don't be a prude. Leo's coming in like five minutes. So, you can leave me be." The man stepped towards you, taking his earpiece out. "Ma'am, this is a private study. I cannot allow you in here till Mr Teflon is present." He took another step, closing the gap between the two of you. "And if you don't walk out that door, I will have to take you out forcefully." "Wow! Did not even bother to mention Leo's name. No respect for the dude," you tsked at him before getting down from the desk and walking towards the door. "I work for Mr Teflon. I have seen whores like you dragged out of this office in bodybags just because they could not keep their attitude in check." Natasha could see a shift in your pace at those words, though you did not let that affect your composure. But the moment that man touched your buttcheek, Natasha could see your elbow making an impact into his rib. Your upper body turned to land a punch in his already grotesque expression before your knee cracked his balls. "Too bad for you, buddy," you whispered into his wincing infant form, "this whore knows how to fight." You hastily entered the memory plate into a slot hidden behind the books. The desk hissed and unveiled a glass case that housed the blueprints. You looked around for any openings to the case but could not find any. "How the f*&# does this thing open?!" you growled in pure rage. You jumped the desk to look for something to break the glass with, only to be tased by the security guy in the ankle. You fell on your knees. The man grabbed you by your ankle before climbing you to let his hands grip your neck. You tried to break the hold but this six feet tall animal had all the intentions of killing you right there and then. "CODE VIOLET!" Natasha screamed through the comms. "CODE VIOLET!!!" The camera watched as Sam struggled to get the boys on the comms before turning to Natasha; a hint of fear crawling into her eyes as they watched your grip loosen with every passing second.

[vikwrites]

Money, Money, Money - Tony Stark

CHAPTER 1 Summary ➣ Starting off as simple, transactional love during the height of Tony’s alcoholism, devolves into something real. Pairing ➣ Tony Stark x Reader Word Count ➣ 1.2k words Warnings ➣ Slow Burn, Power Imbalance, Enemies to Lovers, Large age gap, Mildly Pretentious Narrator. Author's Notes ➣  The first, full-fledged Tony Stark series, so excited for this! I've always wanted to write a Materialistic!Reader so here it is! Happy readings <3

On the 86th floor of Stark Tower, atop a mini-bar, sat a delicate glass of Vodka Martini, 3 fluid-ounce Yamazaki, 1 fluid-ounce dry vermouth, with 3 small olives minutely pierced onto a thin gold-plated skewer. 

The thin stem of the crystal glass was passed to your gauzy, manicured fingers, in exchange for a crisp stack of ten dollar bills surrendered to the bartender, you didn’t bother to count. 

The plump skewer of olives swirled freely in your nearly full martini; minute drops threatened to spill over the edge of its fine rim. Luckily, you had caught the droplets before they had been discarded onto the carpeted floor.

Figures adorned in hues of gold and silver flitted about the lavish parlor, each mirrored the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyline outside in their respective shimmering gowns, each one more expensive than the last. 

The atmosphere was lively, yet the main attraction has yet to arrive. You had heard mentions of the infamous Stark around; his name carried a certain mystique, spoken under hushed whispers amongst the attendees. You had never really met him face-to-face, considering he was the CEO of the company, but your position at Stark Industries held up a pretty good reputation, earning you enough, and granting you an invite to the party.

“Do you think he’s seeing anyone?” You picked up on the conversation between a few women sitting next to you on the barstools. The woman in question, doused in the overwhelming scent of Chanel No. 5, was dressed in a form-fitting Valentino dress. Her voice carried through the air with a thick New-Yorkean accent, a bleak resemblance to her flashy, ostentatious appearance. 

“Quit it, stop trying to get into Stark’s pants. You never will.” The blonde next to you responded, patting the other on the shoulder playfully. You caught a glimpse of her manicured nails, adorned with a glossy velvet finish in a similar fashion to your own. However, unlike yours—which were neatly trimmed, the cuticles of her nails were a bit messy. A detail that wouldn't normally matter, but for some reason stood out to you in that moment.

Is she wearing a Cartier bracelet? Your jaw clenched at the sight of her bracelet, sparkling with diamonds and catching the light in a way that made your own bracelet pale in comparison, it was obviously more expensive than yours. The fact alone pissed you off. 

The room was filled with a swarm of pretentious individuals, each one flaunting their wealth and superiority. It was suffocating, being surrounded by so many egotistical assholes with their holier-than-thou attitudes. They may have money, but it didn't make them any less shallow or arrogant. You had this sixth-sense of being able to tell how much of an asshole specifically by what adorned their money-laced wrists—whether or not they wore a Patek Phillipe or a Jaeger was enough insight into their entire persona. 

“I’ve got a better chance than you at least, Stark would love me!” The first woman's voice snapped like a taut wire, dripping with disdain. Her eyes narrowed and glinted with malice as she shot dirty looks at the others, her loathing almost palpable.

Holier-than-thou attitude, as you had said.

You thought their behavior immature, not wanting to pay attention anymore to such infantile arguments. Fighting over some uber-rich billionaire who could give less of a shit who you are after you had warmed his bed for a single night? 

Pfft, fuck no, you were just here for the cocktails.

You brought the crystal glass to your lips, and took your first sip. The alcohol burnt as it cascaded down your throat, leaving your mouth with a spicy aftertaste, you could never really get used to a Martini. 

A part of you was contemplating asking for more, but the sensible side knew that ending up slobbering drunk at a party and waking up at the ungodly hour of 2pm with missing jewelry and a killer hangover was not exactly your idea of a good time.

The smooth sip of your drink is abruptly halted by the sharp sound of glass shattering, followed by the shrill voices of the ladies engaged in a vicious argument. Their heated words and swinging arms in-turn send glasses crashing to the ground, littering the once-pristine carpet with sparkling shards of broken glass. 

“Did you just call me a bitch?” The blonde's voice rose to a screeching crescendo as she yelled, her face flushed with anger. With a loud thud, she slammed her purse onto the table.

“Yeah, I did—bitch!” Another responded, her voice a bit more high pitched than the other, yet still carrying the same sanctimonious attitude, standing up and facing her with a smug smirk on their face. 

“Now, ladies. Must we really be resorting to calling each other names?” A voice echoed from atop the stairwell. The women’s dispute had been abruptly quelled, the whole room seemed silenced, and all eyes seemed to be glued onto the figure.

There stood Tony Stark, dressed in a perfectly-styled, deep-burgundy suit, no doubt Tom Ford, the barchetta pocket gave it away. His hair was styled in his signature quiff, slicked back to a T. And of course, he topped off the ensemble with a pair of red sunglasses, which you’d always found amusing since he'd wear them indoors. 

“Welcome, everybody. I would introduce myself, but it seems that you know who I am.” Each step he takes down the glass staircase, each time his Louboutin boots hit the glass stairs, resulted in a loud, echoed clap, which resonated across the room. “I’d personally like to thank all of you for attending. As you know, it happens to be my anniversaire today, so I thought to myself, why not throw a party?”

"What's with all the staring, is my suit on backwards?" Tony joked, his eyes scanning the room as he flashed his signature smirk. You knew, however, he thrived on attention, as if it were fuel for his larger-than-life persona. Flamboyant was practically his middle name; Tony Flamboyant Stark does have a nice ring to it, you chuckled.

"Jarvis," Tony’s voice carried a hint of excitement as he spoke to his AI, "let's crank up the music and get this party started." The monotone response did as so. 

After Tony made his grandeur entrance, you retreated to your lone seat at the bar, grateful for the temporary escape from the chaos. The previously bickering women had vanished, leaving a few neighboring barstools conveniently open for your solitude. You took a deep breath and savored the cool air conditioning and the soft murmur of conversation floating around you.

But just when you thought you had some peace and quiet, you heard the shuffling of a chair being pulled out next to you. Expecting one of the argumentative ladies to return, you turned to find Tony  Stark himself settling into the seat beside you, nonchalantly pulling out his wallet and fishing out a few bills.

"So, could I buy you a drink?" 

⎊ back to masterlist

[artificial-transmutations]

Closer Than Flesh - Insights

Jake has hardly any opportunity to react to his changing body. The orgasm that washes through his body is so intense and so enduring Jake can do hardly anything but moan, as his body reforms again, throwing him into yet another life. It is clear to see from the beginning that the new body Jake is getting is much less bulky than Dragoslav's athletic boxer body.

The big calves and biceps Dragoslav had worked so hard on cultivating melt away in seconds, leaving Jake's frame much thinner - and also smoother. While his chest and groin had been shaved before, they become even more smooth by the moment, and his arms and legs follow suit. While his body is still undoubtable male (pronounced by the huge stiff dick Jake still has his hand around), it becomes much slimmer and delicate. It's not weak, at least not compared to Jake's original body, but there are no bulging muscles, enabling him to move elegantly like a dancer.

His skin tone darkens somewhat, giving him a slightly olive tone, which is still a stark contrast to the pale bodies of Marcel and Dragoslav he had been in before. It seems that this skin has been sun-kissed but hardly ever burned. It is free of blemishes or skars, just smooth and beautiful and perfect. On his arms and neck, green ink appears, accentuating the perfect skin even more.

The whole body that forms has a youthful charm to it, but not so youthful to sow any doubts if the body is that of an adult.

All during his transformation, the orgasm from jerking off is still ongoing, making Jake moan loudly. Finally, the world around him returns, forming a cheap apartment around him again: Comparable in wealth to the one Marcel was living in, but decorated entirely different. Although made from cheap materials, there are some vases with flowers around, and everything is clean and tidy.

Jake finds himself sitting on a couch and shooting one bigger spurt of cum, now someone else’s cum, on the coffee table before the orgasm finally subsides.

Skyler, too, is lost in ecstasy. He feels good! Dragoslav's big hand has brought him over the edge quickly, and he had managed to use the stone to get them out just in time.

At the same time, Skyler feels miserable. Vulnerable like he had never felt for the last centuries and violated by what those humans just did to him. Through their flawlessly executed magic ritual, they had taken Skyler's power and transferred it into nothing more than a piece of rock. A stone, adorned with a symbol Skyler hadn't seen for ages now, a symbol he would very much like to forget. Yet, they had somehow found out about the symbol and about who it stands for. It had been ages since Skyler had fought that being, and yet, it still continues to haunt him. Finally, they had released Skyler, after siphoning more than half his essence. It had apparently been luck on his side, that they didn't drain him empty. Those humans had underestimated the full extent of his might, and the stone just could not hold any more of it. So, they finally dismissed Skyler, convinced that what little power remained in him should pose no danger.

The sad part is, that they are right. Less than half his magic remains with him, and Skyler feels as empty and powerless as he has not felt in all of his existence. Back in his home plane, in his palace of twisted flesh in the seventh hell, Skyler is furious. His clawed hand opens and makes a fist continuously as he walks back and forth. His tail twitches uneasily, mirroring his thoughts. He needs to get his power back, but he does not know how. The cultists mentioned other demons whose power had been taken, but Skyler doesn't know who. Hell holds demons uncounted, most of them pitiful and weak. But nobody would admit to losing power - too great was the risk that others would take advantage of that fact. Life in hell is dangerous and cruel. There is just no room for weakness down here.

Still, Skyler is at a loss. He needs help to deal with this situation, that is certain. He does not like it, but of all the demons of hell, there is probably only one that can help him now.

Skyler sits down on his throne. The four men the throne is made of sigh and moan as Skyler sits down on their naked flesh that is twisted and transformed to form his furniture. The two ridiculously large and perpetually erect cocks that form the thrones armrests throb and pulse as Skyler rests his arms on them. Usually, he considers the throne one of his best works among all the palace that is entirely made out of the bodies of foolish men Skyler had transformed for his pleasure. In a way, he is nicer than other demons. He isn't much of a fan of eternal torture or unnecessary cruelty. It is entirely fine for him when his victims are caught in a never ending haze of orgasmic bliss as he repurposes their bodies and souls. Today, however, Skyler can't find joy in all that. Sighing and preparing mentally for the difficult conversation ahead, he booms into the empty throne room:

"Come Forth, Mog'Tol!"

Slowly, Jake's breath slows down again, and he looks around, taking in his surroundings. Bright sunlight comes through the wine red curtains. It is pretty hot here, but his new body seems to be used to the heat: He doesn't find it particularly uncomfortable. Feeling safe enough for the moment, Jake's first impulse is to search for a mirror. He stops in his tracks however shortly after he stands up. He should clean up first. He can't have dried up cum stains on his coffee table after all. So, Jake takes a paper towel and wipes away the generous coating of cum from the surface, before he disposes of the soft piece of paper.

Now that this is taken care of, he quickly finds the bathroom and looks at himself in the spotless mirror. His new body is really handsome! A boyish charm on a well maintained slim body. A piercing in his ear and a few tattoos accentuate the natural beauty of his. His body hair is neatly shaved away, making him smooth and flexible. The only thing that stands out is his large cock, which is a bit out of line. Jake would have expected a more modest equipment and he is puzzled for a moment why the stone's magic decided on such a large python between his legs.

Still, the body is handsome beyond measure. If he could, he definitely would have sex with himself right away. The memory of him being straight fades by the second.

Even though he just rubbed one out, Jake feels himself getting aroused again, simply by admiring his own body. The large cock slowly raising again, as...

Skyler! Right! That's the reason why has such a large penis. It's his dick Skyler! No, that's not right, not his dick, but his... friend? It makes sense, yes. With such a magnificent tool, who wouldn't give it a name and talk to it once in a while.

Back to admiring! He just loves the way his smooth stomach meets his large, erect cock. It's a stark contrast and yet a work of art in itself.

His thoughts are interrupted by the voice of Skyler in his head.

"Holy shit, that's one killer body!"

"I know, right?", Jake grins and gives Skyler a playful stroke, which is immediately answered by a throb of the stiff rod. One thing he especially loves about his body is his near limitless stamina. Others call him insatiable, but that doesn't matter to Jake.

"Damn, my cock is already slick from pre again!" Jake says to himself. "Better give it what it wants."

Skyler wants to object, to a lot of things. To Jake not talking to him but about him. To calling him his cock again. Especially to using 'it' to refer to him. But the touch of his hand feels just so good. A quick jerk certainly won't hurt, right?

Just before Skyler is lost in the pleasure, he suddenly remembers the vision. The throne, made of the warped bodies of four men, entangled in pleasure together for eternity. With every ounce of self-control, he can muster, he says:

"Jake, stop!"

Jake stops, somewhat confused, and asks: "Why?"

It helps Skyler to think clearly that Jake doesn't continue to tease him.

"Because that's what the demon wants! That we lose ourselves like this. It's the demon Jake, it's his influence."

Jake sighs. "But it feels so good. I mean, have you looked at this body? Perhaps we can just..."

"No, Jake! We can't! You need to get dressed and then we need to find out what to do. Remember, we don't have much time. Perhaps only a few hours."

"Fine!", the light and playful voice of Jake's new body sounds disappointed and annoyed, but he takes his hand from his cock.

Slowly, Skyler returns to his flaccid state and doesn't object when Jake puts on a tight fitting pair of silk underwear.

"We also need to talk about what happened earlier." Skyler states, although he is certain that this isn't going to be an easy talk.

"What do you mean? You had a good idea, and we escaped the demon's henchmen." Jake answers, sounding somewhat confused.

Skyler really wishes he could have that discussion face to face with him, but he had to work with what was available.

"That's not what I mean. I meant the way you are behaving lately. You are being rude to me and also, you're acting like a real asshole to be honest. You almost hurt the old lady back then, who didn't do anything!"

Jake stays silent for a while and Skyler would give everything to be able to see his face. Is he angry? Hurt? Did his words reach him? Skyler can't even say if Jake is thinking or playing with his phone.

"Sorry, I guess." Jake's new voice finally answers. "It's a lot for me, with all the magic and demons and bodies."

Skyler feels sorry for Jake, he really does. But he still needs to press his point, as much as it pains him to torture his friend.

"I know, Jake. But you have to stay strong, you have to stay you. Otherwise, I can't see how we are going to get out of it."

There is no answer, but Jake sighs again.

"Alright, let's find out where we are."

Again, unlocking the phone thankfully works and after a short while, Jake shares his first insights.

"Okay. So apparently, we are in Argentina. My name is José, which is a really cool name by the way, and he doesn't appear to be particularly rich, judging from his apartment. Also, do you know the App 'Grindr'? I keep getting notifications from it."

"Ehm yes. It's like Tinder, but for dudes only, if you catch my drift. Only focused even more on sex. Seems like José is pretty gay.", Skyler explains.

"Makes sense. Let me scroll through really quickly. Hmmm. Oh. That's a penis. Okay.", Jake says, clearly distracted.

"Focus, Jake!"

"Right, sorry. So, judging from the last few chats, I am some kind of... gay prostitute? I seem to be willing to sleep with everyone and ask for money in return."

"Yeah... That's a prostitute." Skyler agrees.

After a few moments, Skyler suddenly gets an idea, a big idea, an epiphany even.

"Oh wow! I think I just understood something! Have you also wondered how the bodies are chosen?"

"Actually, I thought they were chosen pretty randomly. I couldn't see a pattern yet."

"Well, perhaps the exact body is random, but the general theme is not. I mean, think about it: We desperately needed to find out more about the stone and, boom, all of a sudden, we're in Romania, only two hours’ drive away from the place I found it in. We escape from the demon's goons by jerking off together and find ourselves in the body of a sex crazed sex worker. This really fits together too well! "

"Yes, perhaps you're on to something. The times before when we barely escaped, my body always became stronger than the last, more fighter like. People you wouldn't want to meet after dark. But how does it work?" Jake sounds excited as well.

"It's because the stone..." Skyler is so close to understanding, he can almost feel it. What does he know about the stone? It's a portion of Baelnath's power, sure, but how does that... Oh!

"It's because the stone works with demonic magic! And the difference between human magic and demonic magic is that demonic magic does what you mean, not what you say."

"Neat! That means if we really mean it, we could return to my original body?"

"Our original bodies, but yes, I think so. However, ... I don't think we should yet." Skyler sounds a bit sad as he says so.

"Why not? Now that we know how it works, what is stopping us?"

"The demon. If we return to our old lives, this will not stop the demon from chasing us. If anything, it will make it easier for him. He only needs a few hours to locate us and then he attacks. Even though this is really cruel, I rather have a Marcel or Dragoslav killed than myself. "

" You think the demon killed them? " Jake sounds stunned.

"What else do you think he does to them after we leave the bodies? Invite them for tea?" Skyler could think of more alternatives, thinking back to the palace of the demon. But that is something he doesn't need to share with Jake right now.

"Do you think he has killed me? I mean my original body? Let me check!" Jake says with a hint of panic.

"What are you doing?" Skyler is alarmed. He just hopes Jake doesn't do anything stupid.

"Relax, I'm just googling."

"Okay... This is weird.", he concludes after a while. "We are reported as missing, both of us. Missing, but not dead, which is a plus. I don't know about the Arab guy, but for Marcel and Dragoslav... There is just no record of them."

"So, they haven't been reported as missing?"

"No, and I can't find anything else on them. No Facebook profile, Google yields nothing... It's like they don't even exist!"

"Weird. Try Piotr or Tălmara perhaps."

"Hmmm... Nothing on the town, but there's something on Piotr. According to the translator, he posted on Facebook that he fell and hit his head when he went swimming and that next time someone should better come with him. Oh, he mentions some girl, I think he is hitting on her with that. " Jake reports.

"So, Piotr is still alive, that's a relief."

"Yes, but still no sign of Marcel. It's like..."

"... He doesn't even exist." finishes Skyler. "Creepy. Do you think the stone just creates their lives?"

"That's the only explanation. And it also explains Marcel's poster. He had an erotic poster of a girl in his apartment, but after we watched gay porn together, it changed to a guy."

"Which also makes it easy for the stone to fulfill our wishes when we use it. It doesn't have to find a suitable host body, it 'just' creates a live that fits." Skyler deducts. "But this also means that everything about your new body *could* be related to what we want most, to find out more about Baelnath and defeat him."

"I think that's going a bit far. I don't see how Marcel being a construction worker helped us in any way." Jake sounds sceptic.

"True, not everything is related. But who knows, let's go through José's stuff."

Most of the prostitute's belongings are not really helpful in any way - although the amount of sex toys is simply astonishing. José has a whole wardrobe filled with neatly sorted toys, from fleshlights to butt plugs.

Finally, Jake and Skyler concentrate on José's phone again.

"Perhaps let's go through the contacts." Skyler suggests.

"Alright, who do we have here... I really have a lot of customers as it seems. Francisco Aguilar, Emilio Botezatu, Carlos Gutierrez, Esteban Fernandez, ..." Jake reads.

"Wait. What was that?" Skyler interrupts.

"Esteban Fernandez?" Jake repeats.

"No, the, I think second name. Can you repeat it?"

"Emilio Botezatu?"

"Yes, that one! I've heard that last name before... But I don't remember where."

"You're right, Sky!" Jake is excited. "It's the name the old lady in Tălmara mentioned! Right, you couldn't understand that. It's the name of the family who lived in the house where you found the stone. She said that they made deals with the devil."

"Oh! So, they are related to that 'Binding Circle' from my vision. I don't think that name is a coincidence. Perhaps he is a descendant of that family?"

"Possibly. We should definitely talk to him! Hm, apparently, he is a customer. I don't have a phone number, just a Grindr handle."

"That works, too." Skyler decides. "But be careful, this is a hell of an opportunity. We need to be very subtle and quick, so Baelnath doesn't send his henchmen after us before we learned everything."

Jake smiles. "Well, I know a way for us to get close to him no problem. That's okay for you, pija [dick]?"

Skyler sighs. "Yes, you're probably right. It's the best way to get close to him without raising suspicion. Go for it, gigolo."

And like that, Jake messages Emilio on Grindr. From their history, it's pretty clear that Emilio is a top and has met with José once before, to 'plow his juicy ass', as he put it. It doesn't take too much convincing on Jake's side to arrange another meeting this night, after describing how empty his ass feels and how he misses Emilio’s big prick.

Of course, Jake has absolutely no recollection of any past meeting, but he seems to strike the right note, since Emilio instantly sends him a picture of a rather big bulge tenting some old work jeans. It's not even pretended when Jake comments that he can't wait. Both him and Skyler feel horny enough from the short conversation to yearn towards their meeting tonight.

When the evening finally comes and it's time for Jake to leave the house, he is feeling somewhat nervous. Not only is there the real danger of meeting the demon's men again, and the whole thing could be a well laid trap, but also Jake also feels insecure about the job ahead. He has never taken it up the ass or had sex with a man before (and only once with a woman), so he isn't quite sure what to expect. He just hopes José's instincts or Skyler's experience on that matter will help him.

Emilio's home is a farm house as it seems. Luckily, there are no more workers around, and either Emilio lives alone or has arranged for an empty house. Nevertheless, Jake feels incredibly nervous, as he rings the doorbell.

When Emilio opens the door, Jake sees a rugged, good looking farmer in front of him. Still somewhat sweaty from the day’s work and smelling musky and manly.

"Nice..." comes Skyler's voice in his head, telling Jake at once that the burly man is entirely Jake's type. That will make things a lot easier, he figures.

"Come in!" says Emilio and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Jake entered, he feels a hand from behind on his behind.

"So, you missed me, huh?" Emilio asks with a husky voice and thinly veiled lust.

"Yes, papá!" Jake responds excitedly. He didn't plan on the trailing "daddy", but it seems right given the situation. Good to see that either José or Skyler was in the game as well.

"Then what are you waiting for? Get rid of your clothes and then help me get out of mine!" Emilio grunts.

Jake doesn't hesitate and strips himself naked, almost as if he's doing a striptease. He looks over his shoulder and sees Emilio standing there, already with his pants undone and his large penis sticking out. The cock is nearly the same size as the one Jake is unpacking.

Jake takes a few steps closer and kisses Emilio passionately. Then, he grabs the hard-on and starts stroking it with both hands. It is rock solid, thick, and long. When Emilio groans in pleasure, Jake is happy. This guy knows what he likes. Jake gets on his knees and looks at the member in front of him. Uncut, thick and veiny, and ripe with the unwashed musk of a day’s work in the field. It looks delicious! Jake strokes the cock gently and licks the pre-cum from the tip. He opens his mouth and slurps down all of it, getting the taste of manly salty flavor on his tongue.

"Oh fuck! That's it! Take my cock, puto [Male prostitute]! Suck it!" Emilio growls.

Jake complies, taking the entire shaft in his mouth and sucking greedily. To his amazement, the gag reflexes of José seem nearly non-existent. He swallows the huge penis deeper and deeper until it is completely in his throat. Emilio groans with pleasure and holds onto the back of Jake's head while he fucks the young man's face.

Finally, he pulls Jake off his groin and his wet dick.

"Enough. Turn around!" he says and points to the kitchen counter. Jake obeys happily, bending over the kitchen counter and exposing his well-groomed ass to the other man.

Emilio quickly dives into Jake's ass, his fat prick rubbing against the tight ring of muscles. He grabs his hips and begins to ram in and out, pushing harder and harder.

Jake and Skyler feel incredible. It is one thing to jerk off, but it's an entirely different story to have their ass rammed like that. Almost immediately, Jake's hand finds Skyler's shaft body and begins to jerk, as their minds meld together once more, lost in the pleasure of the strong man behind them plowing their ass.

"I'm gonna cum!" Emilio warns.

"Mmmm, yes! Make my ass yours, papi! Fill it with your seed!" Jake moans.

Emilio feels the young man's ass tense up and moan, and thrusts deep into him. Then, with a cry, Jake can feel the spreading wet warmth of the farmer's seed inside his body.

From a sex worker's perspective, it has been really stupid to not use any protection. But Jake/Skyler is far too busy experiencing an orgasmic high as he comes himself, all over the kitchen counter and himself.

For a short while, neither man says anything, as they are both seeing stars. Finally, Emilio pulls out and grunts. "You can clean yourself up in the bathroom." he offers, which Jake gladly accepts.

It has been a rather short encounter, but still an intense one.

When Jake returns to the living room, Emilio already has a pack of cash ready for him. Jake takes it and is almost about to leave when Skyler interjects: "Dude. Information!"

"Right." Jake mutters under his breath before turning back to Emilio.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, big guy?" he asks innocently, with his sweetest smile.

Emilio nods and Jake continues. "That last name of yours - it's not from around here, is it?"

"No, you're right. It's from Romania. My great-grandfather came from there."

"Ohhh, Romania", Jake coos. "That's far away! Why did they come here?"

"Heh." laughs Emilio. "If you like to know, it's quite a funny legend actually."

"Oh, please tell me, papi!" Jake reinforces, trying his best to stay in character.

"Okay, so. From what I heard is that my family was pretty important back then in Romania. Rich or influential. In any case, they had weird hobbies. Back then, occult societies were a big thing, but rumor is that my family was doing the real thing. Magic. At least that's what I've been told. They were casting spells and summoning demons and all that. And made magical artifacts. But one day, and that's just the bullshit I was told, they decided to summon an angel instead. And as the story goes, naturally, God struck down every one of them. Except my great-grandfather, wo left everything behind after that."

"That's creepy." Jake comments. "But what happened to all their stuff? The magical artifacts and so on?"

"No idea. My dad tried to find out more about that, since he guessed there was a lot of valuable stuff, but ultimately failed. He said the trail ends in World War 2, when Romania was allied with Nazi Germany. His best guess is that the nazis took everything that looked remotely valuable then."

"What a nice story, papi!", Jake says absent-mindedly and stands up. "I need to go now."

Emilio was a little bit surprised as Jake left so abruptly, but Skyler had other things on his mind and urged Jake to get to privacy.

"What did he say?" Skyler asks, excitedly.

After Jake summarizes the story, Skyler says: "Do you know what that means?"

"No, but I have the feeling you're about to tell me." Jake replies, as he walks down the dark road back towards his home.

"Okay, look. These 'artifacts' he told you about, those are probably other sigil stones. Or like, magic books. In any case, this could be really really valuable. We could get our hands on some magical weapons that we can use against Baelnath!"

Jake was a bit more skeptical but nodded slowly. "IF we get our hands on them. Right now, we don't know anything more than that the items are, perhaps, in Germany. Or were in Germany at some point."

"Yes, but... Oh crap. He's coming." Skyler's voice changes mid-sentence, as a now familiar feeling rushes over him. Surely enough, the road around Jake fills with dark red smoke and he can feel his heart beating faster. It appears the demon himself is making an appearance. Jake clutches the stone tightly, hoping he will have enough luck to escape once more.

Jake looks around uneasily until he sees where the fog becomes denser, and the red skinned demon walks out of it. Surprisingly enough, his body language is different from before. He stops a good distance from Jake and raises his arms.

"Hold on! I want to talk!" The voice that pierces Jake's mind is not friendly - but also not quite as driven by emotions as before.

Jake considers for a moment. He has his hand around the stone in his pocket. He could escape at any moment, and as long as the demon doesn't come closer, he sees no way he could be harmed before using the stone.

"What do you want?" Jake says cautiously. No reaction from Skyler. The penis had probably been overwhelmed by the demon's presence again, he had to do that on his own.

"You are in possession of something I want." says the demon, walking around him in a wide circle, careful not to step closer.

"And since you have proven to be a big nuisance and I really have better things to do with my time than chasing you around the globe, I decided to solve this another way. So, I'm here to offer you a deal. I know you have your hand on the stone already, so I'll make it quick."

Jake feels uneasy. Baelnath is smart, so much is certain. This could very well be a trap, but Jake decides to hear him out anyway.

"You give me the stone, of course, that's still not up for debate. But in return for your cooperation, I will refrain from devouring your soul.", the demon elaborates with a generous voice. "In fact, I will even let you live! And not just any old live. You may become my servant. While that must sound like a bad idea for your oh-so-modern ears, the position comes with certain perks. First, you can chose your body. You can return to your own body, or you can become any man you want. You can be rich, handsome, strong, well-endowed... Everything at once. I am, after all, the master of flesh. But it doesn't stop there. If you do your job well, I will grant you powers and further boons. You can become immortal and wield magic yourself. Isn't that what you mortals are after all the time?"

Jake doesn't know how to react. That is a really bad deal! He doesn't want to be the servant of a demon for all eternity! That is certain. Even though, on second thought, the prospect of being able to choose his body and being free from the pursuit of the demon does sound somewhat tempting. Especially, if the alternative is being caught eventually and being killed.

Perhaps the demon senses his thoughts - or he has his experiences with humans in this situation.

"I don't expect you to answer right away. The offer stands... until the next time we meet. Then you have to decide. Now I suggest making a leave before I lose my patience after all." The last words could be a joke - but Jake isn't so sure about this. Before he finds out the hard way, Jake focuses his thoughts and activates the magic stone in his hand, disappearing from the world yet again.

Unexpected! If you want to re-read the previous chapter, you can find it here. Of course, you can also go to the beginning. The next chapter is available here.

[nocturnesheaven]

CHAPTER I

Awakening Melodies

A/N: Hɪ!! Tʜɪs ɪs ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟsᴏ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ʟɪᴋᴇ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ʟᴏʟ. I’ᴍ ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ sᴇʀɪᴇs! Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴘᴀʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ᴀs ᴛʜɪs sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs! I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

genre: angst, comfort, coming of age, eventual romance (love interest is not introduced yet

character tropes: fem! reader, parentalfigures! dinahandoliver, eventual fem! reader x dickgrayson

tw: talks of child abuse, mentions of animal cruelty, human experimentation, unknown substances, dead children, survivors guilt, manipulation, and other dark themes.

It was unclear when you had first been a subject at Braylon labs. Your earliest memories were from the stark white dayroom that served as the common area. It had been a miserable place where you’d grown up watching your peers lose the light in their eyes. You yourself eventually realized that hope of a different life was an out of reach concept.

Braylon Lab had been on the Justice League’s radar for a while. It had started as a conspiracy. Whispers of corruption within a weapons development and research lab. At first, the team assumed it must have been ties to illegal operations. Distributing or selling high-tech weapons to people not cleared to be carrying such armory. Further inspection revealed more. While there was certainly illegal weapons trading, it wasn’t machinery being distributed. It was human. Metahuman children in specific. What had first been seen as a small mission became so much more dire. With the mention of children, the Justice League knew they had to close in. How many children could there have been over the long history of this lab? Hundreds? Thousands? The exact number was unclear. The only way to get an idea was to raid the building. Free whoever may have been inside, gather all intel they could from the system, and shut down the place. It sounded like something the Justice League could handle. So they made a date and a plan. Picking who they thought could handle the case best and be stealthiest with it. It had been that way until they made it in the building. That moment was when it became evident to Dinah, Oliver, Barry, and J’onn that Braylon Lab had been expecting them.

The halls were dark and it was completely silent.

“There are people here,” J’onn quickly clarified, “the staff are hiding like the cowards they are.”

This setback didn’t stall them for long, the Justice League were the best at what they did. They were made up of the most successful heros of all time. So it took little time to reconstruct a plan. It took even less time for Oliver and Barry to find the place the staff were hiding out. When they arrived in the basement of the lab, the staff were already in a frenzy as they attempted to get rid of any evidence. The confrontation was brisk. Taking the perpetrators out had been easy. Getting back the evidence? That’s when the problem started again. Where credit was due, the staff had moved fast to try and cover their tracks. But it wasn’t fast enough…

The plan was back on. With the evidence textured and the perpetrators gone, they just needed to rescue the victims. It would be in and out. What a foolish thought that had been.

Dinah and J’onn had been assigned to find the children and lead them to safety. They checked the room labeled dayroom, then the experiment rooms, before they came across what was meant to be the children’s bedrooms. To call them bedrooms was a severe mistake because they resembled prison cells.

“Dinah,” J’onn had warned her as she went to check each cell for the children.

Finding the children proved to be impossible, as to Dinah’s horror, there were no children to be saved. Laid out on thin blue mats, meant to act as their beds, were the metahuman children.

They had been too late.

In the small cells these children had been living for who knows how long, they all laid deceased.

Dinah gasped in horror at the pale and skeleton like children in front of her.

On a team like the Justice League, one might assume nothing affected you. After all, you were supposed to be the most courageous and efficient type of hero. Feelings needed to be put aside. Yet, the sight in front of Dinah had shaken her to her core. Innocent life… all wasted on the prospect of what? For science!?

“Oh my god,” Dinah’s voice was small and uncharacteristically shaky.

J’onn grimaced. This was inexcusable. The children had suffered, that was evident without him being a telepath. His heart wrenched for these children. He couldn’t tell what their cause of death was… but whatever it was it had been unnecessary and inhumane.

Dinah kneeled down next to the small figure of a young boy. He was so frail, clearly malnourished and covered in marks from God knew what.

By now, the whole team had appeared and were facing the atrocity.

“All of them?” Oliver whispered in absolute revulsion

Dinah nodded and he felt his stomach drop. Children. All of them. Their lives cut short and torture all throughout it.

The team stood for a moment in the ghost of what had been the Braylon Lab. Taking it all in. They had the information they’d come for… but no survivors.

At least that’s what they’d thought, but J’onn’s grimace turned to one of confusion as his mind picked up on something. Something new? Someone stirring?

“I feel someone,” he said in a whisper, “but something is derailing my sense as to where.”

Barry had immediately taken off without even a moment after J’onn’s words. The team was desperate at this point, that was clear to everyone.

The moments were painfully slow yet every second counted as the team frantically searched.

“Where did he even go?” Oliver muttered in reference to Barry zipping around them

“Doesn’t matter keep looking,” Diana told him fiercely.

Oliver was taken aback by her tone but sprang back into action. Not even he could be caught masking with humor in this moment. Someone was here. One survivor was counting on them.

“Guys! I think I found another cell we haven’t checked,” Barry announced as he flashed by before disappearing again

The team moved his way, quick as possible when trying to follow the fastest man alive, as they went cell to cell. Hallway to Hallway… this place was like a maze!

When they finally spotted Barry, he was at a cell at the end of a long and dingy hallway. It was all plain white walls stained yellow from time, that was until you reached the end. Unlike the other cells, this one was placed by itself?

“Can you sense someone?” Dinah asked J’onn, hope clear in her voice.

“Yes. In there,” J’onn confirmed, approaching the cell.

The team backed up as J’onn ripped the brown metal door from the hinges, revealing a small girl curled up on the small blue mat…

Dinah rushed to her quickly, checking for a sign of life.

“She’s alive… but unconscious,” Dinah confirmed with relief as she laid a hand against the girls head.

One survivor. One.

Oliver stepped forward and placed a hand on his Dinah’s shoulder, silently offering her comfort.

“We can take her back to the Hall of Justice,” J’onn suggested, “make sure she’s equipped with any necessities. It’s unclear to what extent they went with these children.”

As Barry, Oliver, and J’onn discussed the next steps, Dinah was gently humming to the battered girl. Trying to comfort her.

“You’re safe now,” Dinah whispered to her as she took her in her arms, “ no one will ever hurt you again.”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out.

When you woke up you were completely disoriented. It had been about a week since you’d been freed from the lab and about one since you woke up. It had been a complete shock at first. You’d shot up, quickly assessing for any danger. Panic was coursing throughout you as you had taken in the unfamiliar room. It was calming, but not in the sleep inducing way the blinding fluorescents at the lab had been. The mattress was comfy, so unlike the blue mats you’d been sleeping on for your whole life. Best of all, the air smelled of something fresh and not at all stifling like the chemicals. This had to have been the nicest room you’d ever been in. Not that you had much to compare it to.

Truthfully, you didn’t remember what had had happened. The only thing from that day you could vaguely picture was the nurses lining you up that morning to take vitamins. It had just been another day. One by one, you and the nine other subjects had been given your doses. The ten of you were the only subjects left.

“The most important ones,” that’s what the doctors had been saying recently.

It had started ordinary. Vitmains im a small paper cup, the nurse standing before you to make sure you took them. You had looked down at your cup and counted the 3 white circle pills!

Except there were no three white pills. Today there was only one and it was purple and oblong.

“What is this?” one of you had asked, you couldn’t recall who.

“No questions. Take it. It’s good for you,” the nurse had scowled.

That had always been the response to most things. Questioning the nurses was foolish.

Choice was an illusion.

Either you took it or they’d inject you with it. You liked the former rather than the latter, as did everyone else. So without any thoughts, you’d taken them. The next thing you knew, you had been in the cell. Your cell. The one you’d lived in for ten years at the end of the long west hallway. You liked to call it your palace, though it was anything but a palace.

You’d fallen asleep soon after. You could have sworn you’d heard voices in between, though they weren’t ones you knew. Though to be fair, enhanced hearing did call for a few unknown voices here and there. But these ones hadn’t been talking about experiments or things you couldn’t comprehend. You could have sworn someone had been assuring you.

Either way, Now you were here. In this unfamiliar bed in this unfamiliar room with its serene color scheme.

You heard footsteps coming, they were far away enough that it gave you the chance to lay back down and pretend to be asleep.You counted the steps and after about 10 seconds, someone spoke from the doorway

“She was kept alive for a reason, Oliver. I’m sure of it,” a deep voice stated seriously.

You didn’t recognize the sound, yet that sentence had been one you’d thought so many times before. It had run the gauntlet of your mind at the lab.

You were alive. But did you deserve to be?

That idea plagued your mind, just as clear now as you pretended to sleep as it was everytime you had watched one of the other subjects get led to their slaughter.

There was always a pattern behind who didn’t come back to the dayroom. It was always the kids who weren’t called as frequently to appointments with the doctors, the ones who never had to be hooked up to the loud machines and face the glaring scrutiny of the white coated adults as they picked you apart bit by bit. They never seemed to realize it. And sometimes you envied that ignorance…

But you knew. You always knew. You knew because you always heard everything the doctors said no matter if you tried not to. Every time the doctors would gather in the big room for their meetings, their voices would come in loud and clear to your brain. No matter if you tried to drown out the adults voices and focus on the activities in the dayroom, there was no way to shut off your hearing.

It was always someone new each time, but always the same rhetoric:

“They have been performing quite ineffectively”

“I agree… with the budget cuts we’ll have to make some decisions.”

“Dr. Yankov will be here at 7. Have 6 vials prepared, just in case we have to make more cuts to the program.”

Everytime, it filled you with guilt the way you could never bring yourself to tell the other subjects. How could you explain? That though you had covered your ears and shut your eyes you heard them? How do you bring up how even though you tried to distract yourself with one of the dayrooms activities, that you could hear the doctors secret meetings anyways? That soon they would be dead and their suffering at the lab had been for nothing?

Maybe it was better you didn’t tell them. What good would telling them do anyways? You couldn’t stop the doctors. Your voice could make or break a lot of things… but it couldn’t cheat death. The doctors loved to use your voice for testing your sonic screams to shatter things. They were amazed when you would use your songs to heal animals they’d hurt in front of you.

There was one thing the doctors didn’t like your voice for. Opinions. Not that you’d ever dare pose them. However, you knew the doctors would absolutely despise them given their track record.

So instead, you would try to soothe the unknowing children on the hours leading up to their execution. Reading them their favorite picture books from the bookshelf, singing to them to calm them, braiding their hair to try and make them look pretty. In their final moments you’d do anything to make them smile… but in the end what was it for? They always went out screaming in pain anyways. You always were the only subject who seemed to be able to hear those screams, and they haunted you…

Another voice snapped you from your thoughts and back to your pretend sleep in the unknown room…

“I know,” another voice, presumably Oliver’s, replied, “so, what can we do to help?”

Curiosity had you peeking as much as you could while still trying to maintain your illusion of sleep…

You were faced towards them, so you needed to be careful with how you played this. You weren’t quite ready to face them yet.

“I was thinking you and Dinah might be able to take her in,” the man named Bruce said as he crossed over to your bedside, “from what I read their abilities are quite similar… I think she’ll-”

“Yeah, absolutely we can take her in!” Oliver replied with glee evident in his voice

“Hang on,” Bruce’s voice seemed almost taken aback at the quick reply, “It’s not set in stone. We still need to talk to Dinah. Make sure she’d be on board to take this on.”

“I doubt you’ll need to,” Oliver shrugged as he looked at your sleeping form, “Dinah’s been worried sick about her ever since the mission.”

Bruce sighed, “Yes, I noticed that. But this girl… she’s been through a lot. That was evident even before I read through the files… but if you are serious in being willing to take her in, then there’s things you’ll need to know. Braylon Labs was twisted beyond anything we could have imagined.”

“More twisted… how ?” Oliver sounded confused… and a bit repulsed

You felt eyes on you so you made sure to shut yours tight… but you must have given yourself away.

“Come with me, I’ll explain everything. We should let her rest,” Bruce stated as he stepped away from the bed. Oliver stood by for one second more, looking at you empathetically before following Bruce out. You listened for as long as you could to the footsteps and hushed conversations about someone named Dinah,but for the first time in a long time, the sound eventually faded. You smiled to yourself, a bit amused.

Bruce had known you were awake. That was clear… and it’s clear he had known your abilities. Known your range of how far you could hear. He hadn’t wanted to subject you to listening to a recount of your own trauma… that was… kind of him.

In the silence, your mind wandered back to that final day at the lab. That voice, and you swore you’d heard one, could it have been the Dinah they’d been talking about? You sit up, trying to recount any detail of the voice besides the words. Whoever Dinah was, Bruce wanted you to be taken in by her? Something about similar abilities…

It was a lot for your brain to comprehend. Hell, you still weren’t sure where you were! Yet you felt weirdly comfortable. Cared for…

Perhaps that’s where the importance of those comforting words you’d heard came from… maybe it was because for the first time you’d felt someone had cared about you.

It wasn’t clear how long you sat there, obsessively trying to figure out a word for how this all made you feel. However, incoming footsteps put you on alert. You didn’t have enough time to lay back down and pretend to sleep before three figures came in.

You recognized Bruce, from the brief glimpse you’d got from peeking earlier. He was followed by Oliver and a new blonde woman who seemed… happy to see you?

This must be Dinah…

Your eyes darted around the trio. Truthfully, you were on edge. You had been ready to avoid again if necessary but somehow you’d been caught off guard. A rare occurrence to happen to you. It was unnerving.

Oliver seemed to realize this and put a hand out

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he said sincerely, “my name is Oliver Queen… the mean looking guy in black is Bruce, and this is my wife Dinah.”

You looked between the three of them. Also keeping an eye on a possible exit route if it called for it… though the body language of these people said it didn’t need to be on the forefront of your mind. Yet it was.

“We’re a part of a team called The Justice League,” Oliver continued, “We’re not here to hurt you, we’re here to help. The lab you were in was destroyed during our mission to free you and your friends. You’re the last survivor… and I swear that they’re never going to hurt you again.”

You were the last survivor? Last survivor of what?

Your mind went back to that purple oblong pill…

She was kept alive for a reason, Oliver. I’m sure of it.

so many phrases floated through your head as you tried to make sense of this situation.

“Y/N,” the blonde woman stepped forward, “my name is Dinah Lance. I want to help you… I know you’ve been through so much and I know you have no reason to trust me… but I also know that you have an amazing gift that people have been using for their own gain. I don’t want to do that.”

While you were sure this was the voice you had heard, that didn’t mean you trusted anyone in this room. Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you took in her words. Her eyes were truthful and Oliver and Bruce stood behind her with looks of agreement.

“I know you’re probably terrified and confused,” Dinah spoke again gently, “you don’t have to say anything, but our friend Bruce had an idea about where you can stay now that you’re free from the lab.”

The lab… was gone? Really truly gone?

“We’re not going to let anyone hurt you again, Y/N,” Oliver repeated as he stood behind his wife. Something in his eyes told you he meant his words… despite you searching for any ounce of hesitance or lies.

“How?” it was so simple, yet you’d been hurt too many times. If you were truly free… if the lab was really gone, then you weren’t ever going anywhere like it again.

The three adults looked between themselves. Seemingly unsure how to pitch the idea. When they came to a silent agreement Dinah spoke again,

“Oliver and I would like for you to come live with us…” Dinah said gently as she sat on the end of the bed, “if you’d like, I can help you with controlling those abilities of yours. It’s a powerful and wonderful thing you have, though there’s been lots of people who have made you think otherwise.”

“Or, we’d like to give you a normal life. Either way, you deserve a good life Y/N. We want to make sure of it.” Oliver interjected

You took in their words. Looking between her and Oliver, who was smiling encouragingly… his face was hopeful.

“How do I know you aren’t like them?” you asked seriously

The spacious room was quiet for a moment. You had posed a good question.

“Honestly, you don’t,” Dinah sighed, “and I wish we could prove to you here and now that we aren’t. But we care about you… and that’s why we’re here. We want to help you to harness all those bad things you experienced and make it into something. Whatever that looks like to you, we’re going to support you every step of the way.”

“And also we’re pretty cool, you’ll see that kiddo!” Oliver chimed in before being fixed with a look by Dinah.

You’re not sure why, but you find yourself smiling. Something about the situation is filling some void inside you. Once you notice this you quickly fix your demeanor. You couldn’t show anything yet. This could be another trap. However, in the look on their faces there wasn’t a hint of deception behind them. Just sincerity from Dinah and a very ecstastic one from Oliver.

One person was awfully quiet.

You looked to Bruce, who was now standing in the corner observing. While it seemed he wasn’t paying attention too closely to the conversation, you knew he was.

“I heard you earlier say you read my file?”

“I knew she was fake sleeping!” Oliver gasped to which Dinah hit his arm, trying to signal that he was on thin ice with his joking. Oliver muttered some apologies to the room as he focused his attention to the man in the back.

Bruce nodded, “There’s a lot you’ll come to learn about yourself. I don’t think we could explain it all right now. What I can tell you, is I think Dinah can help you. You’ve been taught to underestimate yourself. That you have something wrong with you. None of that is accurate.”

None of it was accurate? What the hell did that mean?

“It’s your choice, Y/N.” all humor was replaced from Oliver with a genuine tone, “we’d love to have you but you’re free to ask for others options.”

All your life. You’d been shown that choice was an illusion. Yet in this moment, they were genuinely asking what you wanted.

Did you want to go and stay with Dinah and Oliver? Did you want to work on your abilities? Or did you want to go your own way?

Three pairs of eyes were on you, and honestly it was quite awkward. You just blinked in response.

Oliver seemed to be the first to realize and with a a dead pan asked,

“Oh shoot are we staring? Is that stressing you out?”

“Uh… kind of?” you admitted with another blink

Oliver nodded, “Okay… well… we should probably give you time to think anyways kiddo-“

And yet, though you had just complained about the staring… you didn’t need to think further.

“No.” you shook your head

“No?” Oliver echoed

Maybe you were jumping into a decision too quickly. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Not after all you’d been through.

You’d watched everyone you know die over the years. Carried the crushing weight of guilt of not being able to protect them. Though you didn’t want it to be true… you were alive for a reason. You had choices in front of you.

Not once had anyone asked you what you wanted, not truly.

For them. You knew only one option was correct.

“I want to go with you guys. Dinah, I want you to help me.”

The room absorbed your words. Oliver’s face was bright and cheery. A genuine expression… one that you’d never seen before today in this room.

“We won’t let you down, kiddo!” he assured you, “you’re in good hands now.”

Dinah nodded. Taking your hand in hers… and you allowed her to.

“We’re going to take good care of you,” she whispered, “we won’t let you down… and I’m so grateful that we’ll get to prove that to you.”

A/N: thank you for reading to the end! please stay tuned for chapter 2!! much love!! also for clarification, this book start when the reader is about the age of 10. However, throughout the book she will get older.

[vatiiagames]

The Cast || Romance Options

Overall there are six main romances. I plan on introducing secret romances later down the line, but we will see. (;

All characters are romanceable regardless of gender.

|| EWAN GERAUNT, THE VIPER [M] ||

Appearance - Ewan is a strikingly handsome man with short, chestnut colored curly hair and dark amber colored eyes with flecks of brown in them. He is clean shaven and when he smiles he has deep set dimples. His skin is tanned with sparse scars covering his arms and other parts of showing skin. Ewan stands at 6'0 and has an athletic/lean muscled build.

Personality - Despite being very flirty and charming, Ewan isn't into flings and wishes for something more. He is fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about; even willing to put his life on the line for to keep them safe. Ewan will often share fond stories of previous adventures with those he takes company with.

|| VARRE DELATORE, THE MAGE [M] ||

Appearance - Varre is elven, marking him with extremely elegant but handsome features. His hair is stark white and cascades down his back with elegant braids interwoven in its strands. Varre’s eyes are a deep emerald green, contrasting greatly with his pale skin color. His cheekbones are sharp, as well as his jawline. Varre stands at 6’4 and has a slim but toned build.

Personality - Despite being elven, Varre has no connection to his people. He is considered a city elf, born away from the cultures of his people only to be shipped off to the White Tower when he displayed magical capabilities. He is a quieter individual but very caring in his own way. Varre’s intelligence is rivaled by almost none and he is well aware of this.

|| CARLISE AURELIOS, THE LEADER [F] ||

Appearance - Carlise has the typical Aurelios features: Black hair, olive skin, grey eyes. Her curly hair is long and normally worn in a long, thick braid thrown over her shoulder. Loose curls fall over her forehead. Her olive skin is peppered with beauty marks. Carlise has a hooked nose that is adorned with a golden hoop. She stands at 5’6 and has a curvy build.

Personality - Times have changed Carlise. Her father’s assassination turned her once caring and warm heart to ice. She is afraid of letting people close to her and has a habit to push them away. Carlise is a driven individual and enscripted the help of Varre to learn how to weaken Harkahn. She is not afraid to pull strings to get what she wants.

|| DEA, THE HALFBLOOD [F] ||

Appearance - Being a half-elf, Dea gets a good mix of both her parents’ lineages. Her sandy blonde hair is thick and wild, barely being wrangled into a high ponytail whose length reaches her mid back. Her eyes are dark and piercing, with sharp cheekbones and a beautiful face. Dea’s ears are pierced, with the left one being scarred and cut short at the tip. She stands at 6’1 and has a muscular build.

Personality - Dea grew up rough. Halfbloods, as they’re called, are extremely frowned upon and outcast in Ordaire. She had ran the streets for quite some time before finally joining a mercenary band. Traveling and working with different groups of rougher people has earned Dea a crude mouth but a heart of gold. If you needed the shirt off of her back, she’d gladly give it to you. But if you needed a swift kick in the ass, Dea would gladly give you that too.

|| KIZAN FREMONT, THE KNIGHT [M] ||

Appearance - Kizan's most striking feature, apart from his stature, are his mismatched eyes. His right eye is a striking electric blue whereas his left is a rich brown color. Kizan's blue-black hair is styled into a short dreadhawk. His cool brown skin is practically flawless, save for one small scar on his bottom lip. Kizan stands at 6'2 and has a thick, muscular build.

Personality - Kizan can be intimidating at first. His father served the Grand Duke as his protector, and now Kizan serves Carlise and her brother Asan as their protector. Due to his position, Kizan is expected to be the typical stoic knight and leader of his men. While he fulfills his role well, he is actually quite the charmer outside of the armor. He finds fun in the little things and lives to enjoy every day he lives.

|| AMYSA BRIARFEL, THE APPRENTICE [F] ||

Appearance - Amysa has a youthful appearance. Her soft brown hair is pulled into two waist length braids, one over her shoulder and the other hanging down her back. She has short choppy bangs that cover her forehead. Amysa’s nose is straight and topped with circular glasses. She had a beauty mark above the right side of her lips. Her skin is a peachy color. Amysa stands at 5’4 and has a thin build.

Personality - Amysa has spent a short time outside of the White Tower of Castavel. Not quite acquainted with the way of the outside world, she can appear naive. However, Amysa is a knowledge sponge and learns extremely fast. She is incredibly caring and eager to please. Although she is an incredibly intelligent individual, she thinks with her heart instead of her brain. It has gotten her into trouble numerous times.

[spacesquidlings]

If You Need To, Darling, Lean Your Weight On Me: Revelations

Summary: Their tadpoles long ago destroyed, Astarion and Aspen spend their days travelling through Faerûn, searching for a way for Astarion to again walk in the light. But there is not much light to be had now, not even as dawn approaches, as they trek through an unending storm. Eager not to cause trouble for her lover, Aspen ignores her waning strength, and when Astarion finally does find out, he's keen to show her just how much trouble he's willing to go to for her.

Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (OC Aspen)

Warnings: Suggestive comments

A request from the wonderful @spacebarbarianweird !!!!! Thank you so much <3

Table of Contents

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The slate grey of storm clouds choked out the burgeoning gold of the rising sun. Mist hung heavy in the air, painting the forest they traveled through in quicksilver, making it all the harder to stumble across the waterlogged earth. Rain clung to everything, soaking their travelling cloaks, freezing on their skin, dripping from limp, olive green leaves.

It had rained all the day before, and the storm had continued into the night. They had only paused a handful of times, curling up beneath cliffs where the rain couldn’t quite reach them or in caves too shallow for any manner of beast to make a home in it.

Now the night was waning, although Aspen couldn’t really tell. She supposed the iron grey of the stormy night was softening to a wispy dove-grey, but shadows still stretched long, cloaking much of the world in darkness.

Even so, it was probably best that they found somewhere to rest. She did not anticipate the heavy clouds drifting away before the moon rose, but knowing the sun lurked beyond the storm set her on edge. Astarion could slip through the world at dawn and dusk, when the sun’s light was softer, kinder, and he had passed through towns and forests before even when the sun was no longer benevolent so long as his cloak was drawn low. Still, she did not want to risk him coming to harm, the sunlight burning him away.

Blinking raindrops that had gathered in her lashes, Aspen looked around, seeing nothing but misty forest and the blurred outlines of trees surrounding them. Perhaps they could find another cave, something big enough for the two of them, but small enough that forest creatures would not bother with it.

A shiver wracked through her, and her whole body spasmed in response. Fingers trembling, teeth clacking together, shoulders twitching. Rain water slipped down her back, cold as ice. She really did not want to spend the day in a cave, or camped out somewhere outside. She wanted to be inside, wanted soft blankets and warm food and a tub she could soak in for hours until the chill of the night went away.

“This is miserable.” Beside her, Astarion voiced her innermost thoughts, his mouth turned down in a frown. “It’s been raining all night, I’m freezing, and I’m covered in mud.”

He gave a dissatisfied grunt as he shook one foot, flecks of mud spraying in an arc. He winced as he settled his foot back down, the squelch of a mud puddle sounding beneath him. “Now that is just repulsive.”

She managed a weak giggle, wrapping her arms around her middle. Her heavy woolen cloak offered no protection against the rain any longer, and again she shivered. It had been thoroughly soaked through, and now it clung to her awkwardly, scratching at her throat and back.

Astarion opened his mouth, clearly on the verge of complaining further. His eyes flicked to hers, a brilliant crimson, stark against the pallid landscape. The rain had leached the world of its colour, even the most vibrant of wildflowers dulled to an echo of their former life. But his eyes remained bright, sharp as the blades sheathed at his hip.

Even exhausted and cold as he was, he was quick, and she must not have been hiding her own fatigue particularly well. Lines creased his brow, pale hands sliding from the folds of his cloak to find hers.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, the lines in his brow deepening. It reminded her of a statue, a sculpture by a renowned artisan, the lines etched into the granite of his face.

But granite was not soft as her Astarion was, too hard and unyielding. He liked to pretend otherwise, but there was a soft, warm-hearted person behind his devilish veneer. He was a villain, to be sure, but there was a gentleness hidden beneath that rough exterior, and she could feel it now as he held her hands so carefully, as he circled his thumbs over the backs of her wrists.

His gaze snapped up to hers, ire making his eyes flare like rubies in sunlight. His brow arched, and she could tell there was very little patience left in his waterlogged heart. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have stopped for longer. We could have looked for an inn or somewhere to rest.”

She shook her head, trying to will her teeth to stop chattering so she could speak. “We needed to keep moving. We can’t travel much during the day, and we still have far to go.”

He rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation. “Darling, I love you, but sometimes I fear you are not intellectually gifted.”

“Are you insulting me right now?” She did not want to pull away from his hold, the friction of his hands rubbing hers the first spark of warmth she had felt in hours. But she could not help the frigid tone, annoyed with him for implying she was stupid.

The corners of his lips twitched, and he quickly brought her hands to his lips, blowing warmth onto them. “I would never dream of such a thing, my dear. But I would rather take a few extra days to travel than have you keel over from hypothermia.”

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to die from hypothermia.”

He clicked his tongue. “Darling, your lips are blue.”

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth immediately, nervously biting in the hopes that he was only teasing her. “No they’re not.”

“I am many things, love, but I am not colourblind.”

“I’m okay, really!” She insisted, although her defense was undercut by how she did not yank herself from his grip. How she in fact leaned closer, relishing the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“Liar.” He was smirking, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In contrast, they seemed sharp enough to draw blood. It was all so at odds with his usual laid-back, mischievous air. He sounded far too solemn, and it set her on edge.

“I’m not a liar,” she whined. “I really am fine. I just want us to cover as much ground as we can before the sun comes up.”

He sighed, eyes closing for a moment. She felt her body slumping forward, freed from the iron-strong hold of his gaze. Her fingers were tingling, sharp pin-pricks piercing at her skin now that they were being warmed. It hurt, and tired as she was, she couldn’t stifle the whimper in her throat, needing to move her hands to bring feeling back into them as the discomfort grew.

Astarion’s eyes snapped open at once, his hands tightening on hers. His annoyance was gone, concern etched across his face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

She winced, wiggling her fingers. “I need to move my hands. They’re hurting.”

Eyes widening, he nodded, releasing them at once. He remained silent as she shook her hands out, clenching them into fists and flexing them out again over and over until the worst of the pain had subsided.

“Does it feel better?” His voice was whisper soft, and with the dull boom of thunder in the distance she might not have known he’d spoken at all were it not for the cloud of breath that hung in the air.

She nodded, tucking her hands against her body. “A little. It’s not great though.”

A twitching of his brow, like the shiver of a tree branch in the wind. “So you admit you’re not fine.”

“Well I never said that.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Darling, it’s implied. If your hands hurt so much from the cold that you cried then you are most certainly not fine.”

“I didn’t cry!” Well she might have cried, just a little. But it hadn’t been intentional, and it had only been one small whimper. Surely she couldn’t be faulted for that.

From the look of incredulity he fixed on her, it was clear that he could fault her for it. And that in fact he would fault her for it, quite gleefully, if only to press his point.

“You did cry a little, my dear.” He pinched her side, smirking as she yelped. “And while normally I adore your cries, considering the circumstances I don’t think they’re from pleasure.”

A gust of wind tore at them, rattling through the trees, tearing at their clothes, their cloaks and hair fluttering in the air. Her teeth chattered, her hands trembling against her sides.

He chuckled, although there was little mirth in the sound. He stepped closer, pressing his brow to hers, his breath curling against her lips. “You’re doing nothing, but proving my point.”

“I’m fine, I’m really fine!” She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to be a dead weight, didn’t want to hold him down. He needed freedom, he needed someone who was not weak.

“Even your voice is trembling.” He was speaking in a sing-song cadence, reminding her of all the nights where he had teased her, using only his words to make her needy for his touch. “And while I do so love when you shake, you’re not shaking for me.”

“Well…” She slid her hands free from the confines of her cloak, pressing her palms to his chest. “Maybe there’s a way you can warm me up? Then I would be shaking just for you.”

“A tempting offer.”

Aspen did her best to smile, her muscles rigid as death from the unforgiving elements. She wanted to appear coy, and yet she feared the only thing she looked was pained. “Tempting enough to think of a way to warm me?”

She’d been certain he would at the very least respond with a teasing innuendo, perhaps a suggestive touch, even a darkening of his eyes. But Astarion did not respond in any way she had anticipated, no smirk, no titillating little comments. He did not even touch her, instead pulling away until there was a chasm between them, his brow furrowed in dismay.

“As enticing a suggestion that is,” he said, his voice so dry she could have used his words for kindling to actually warm her. “I will have to pass this time. I find our current circumstances are not suited for any manner of lovemaking.” He kept his gaze fixed on hers the entire time he spoke. She felt frozen, her body pulled taut, and she doubted she’d be able to move even if she’d tried.

“Because of the weather?” She tried, wishing he would touch her again.

“No.” His response was sharp, harsh as the icy wind. “I’m simply not in the mood, not when I feel borderline furious.”

That seemed a bit of an over-exaggeration, but Astarion seemed to feel things five times as intensely as she did, and she was not about to stifle his emotions. He was upset, and he was upset at her.

She opened her mouth to say something, to apologize, to ask what she had done to provoke his ire, but he waved a hand in the air, silencing her.

“Don’t.” He sighed, so loud the branches shook. “I don’t want you to apologize.”

Her teeth clicked as she closed her mouth, another shiver going through her.

Astarion looked away, and it made Aspen squirm. She didn’t want him to be upset, she didn’t want to hurt him, she didn’t want to be the cause of his hurt.

For a moment there was silence, but for the sighs and huffs Astarion made as he mulled whatever he was thinking over. Finally, after an eternity, he looked back at her, his brow still furrowed, his mouth a crescent-moon frown.

“I would have liked it if you’d told me you were feeling poorly. We could have looked for somewhere to stay until the storm passed.”

She kicked at a rock, looking away before he could pin her with that ruby-bright stare. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I can handle a little cold.”

A disgruntled noise burbled from the back of his throat, and she snorted, used to his sounds of discontent. “You’re not a burden.”

She huffed now, arms tensing around herself as she glared down at the soggy ground. The unending storm and the exhaustion weighing her down had spread her patience thin, and she could feel the last of it snapping. “Well I don’t want to ever be one. I don’t want to hold us up. I don’t want to be weak.”

The last thing she’d expected in response was laughter, and yet that’s exactly what she heard. Astarion chuckled softly, his hands slipping beneath her cloak to find her hips.

It took her by surprise, and she looked up quickly, only to find that his gaze had softened, lines no longer marring his brow, his lips no longer pinched into a frown.

“What is it?” Suspicion coiled in her belly, an oily snake ready to strike, making her squirm. “Why are you laughing?”

Her bewilderment only made him laugh harder, eyes crinkling. “My darling, you know I find you terribly adorable, right?”

“What did I do?!” Her voice cracked, trembling as she tried to figure out why he was laughing at her.

He shook his head. “Nothing, darling. But you don’t need to worry about being a burden, or about being weak.”

��But I-”

He tapped her lips with his index finger, quieting her. He was no longer laughing, but he was still smirking at her, his mischief returned, and she supposed she could be content with that. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded, wrinkling her nose as a snake of anxiety coiled around her belly. “I do. Why?”

Another tap to her lips, his smile widening. “Don’t look so suspicious, dearest. I’m not planning anything villainous.”

“That expression begs to differ.”

He pulled his lips into a pout, giving her puppy-dog eyes. “What’s wrong with my expression?”

Another shiver wracked through her body, and the desire to curl against him nearly overwhelmed her. But she sensed he was on the verge of teasing her terribly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to give him the satisfaction of falling for his charms.

“Oh darling, don’t frown.” He sighed, shaking his head as he gently ran the pad of his thumb over her brow, smoothing away the lines of her frown. “There are much prettier expressions you can make for me.”

A flicker of heat bloomed in her cheeks, although it was far from welcome despite the cold. She looked away, huffing, trying to ignore how nice it felt to have his fingers tracing over her face with such gentleness. “What was your point? I trust you, although you are trying my patience.”

He stepped closer, not bothering to cringe at the squelch of mud beneath his boots. “I want you to look at me, darling.”

She did not, instead ducking her head to sulk further. Why shouldn’t she, anyways? He’d gotten mad at her because she’d been cold, and now he was going to tease her.

Much to her chagrin, Astarion did not allow her long to brood. His fingers slid down her jaw, curling beneath her chin. He was gentle at first, trying to turn her face up, but when she resisted he clicked his tongue, gripping her more firmly.

“Don’t be such a brat, darling,” he said, lowering his head, eyes bright as they searched for hers.

“I’m not a brat!” Her head snapped up before she could think anything through.

And once she had thought it through, she realized she’d been had. Astarion was smirking broadly, far too pleased with how easily he’d provoked her.

“Well,” he said, brows arching high. He still had his hand on her chin, and he seemed unwilling to let her go. “Now that I can finally see your face, darling, we can talk.”

She rolled her eyes, but all that did was earn a bubble of laughter as he cupped her cheek with his other hand.

“Do you know how precious you are to me?” He said, laughter in his voice.

“I-” She stammered, struggling to understand what he was talking about. “What?”

He hummed, his smile smug. “Evidently not.”

“What does this have to do with you being mad at me over being cold?” Her words were not as crisp as she’d hoped, more reminiscent of wilting flowers than icicle sharp. She was tired, she wanted to curl up in his arms, she wanted to be warm.

“Because…” He trailed off, eyes bright with devilish delight. He let his words linger in the air, drawing closer to her, softening his hold on her chin.

His expression morphed after a moment, and he looked at her with such gentleness she thought she might collapse and melt into the mud. It was so entirely at odds with his chilly look from earlier, the frosty annoyance when he’d realized the extent of her discomfort.

“Because?” She wished he would close the distance between them. He was not particularly warm, but he was warmer than she was right now, and she wanted his lips on hers, she wanted to be tangled in his arms. She wanted him to get to the point.

“I always knew patience was never one of your virtues, darling,” he mused, brushing away droplets of rain as he stroked her cheeks. “But can you not at least try? For me?”

Whatever he saw in her face must have delighted him greatly, because he laughed again. His hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pressed his forehead to hers, holding her there against him.

“Were it not so miserable out here I would prolong this a while longer,” he murmured, his words a breath on her lips. “I do so love to watch you squirm.”

“Maybe I really will get hypothermia and die,” she grumbled. Her heart wasn’t truly in it, but she felt the need to put up a petulant front, so he wouldn’t think this was working on her.

Undeterred by her act, Astarion pressed on, pinching her cheek sharply. “Don’t go talking like that, darling. Who would read to me at night if you went and died? Who would tell me how beautiful I am every day? Who would cry my name as prettily as you?”

At that she really did make an attempt to disentangle herself from his hold, although it was of little use. The cold had made her body stiff, slow, and he was already much faster and stronger than she. His arms tensed, and any attempt she made to escape was met with a snort and a sharp tug as he drew her close again.

He was too close for her to make out his expression, but she could feel his lips pulling into a pout, could feel the creases in his brow. “Don’t be like that, my love. I’m only telling you how dear you are to me.”

“Astarion.”

He sniffed. “I like it more when you call me pretty things. Like your lover, beloved, my sweet, most handsome creature you’ve ever seen, most skilled lover in the world. Really anything.”

She groaned, slumping forward. If he wasn’t going to release her then she was going to collapse into his arms and make him carry her.

“Woah, don’t fall over yet, darling.” His mouth grazed the side of her cheek, the feel of his smile hot against her skin. “You’ll have plenty of time to swoon for me later.”

“I thought you said you weren’t in the mood for anything,” she said, acid in her tone.

With a sigh, Astarion righted her once more, his smooth hands cupping her cheeks again as he drew back, studying her face. “Alright,” he said, finally conceding. “I won’t tease you any longer.”

He sighed again, brushing away raindrops as they spilled onto her face, his expression softening, gazing at her with such tenderness her knees felt weak. He was quiet a moment, only the sound of the rain as it pattered over the ground. When he finally did speak, his voice was feather soft, grazing against her cheeks in a rush of warmth. 

“There is nothing more important to me than what I’m holding now in my hands. I couldn’t care less about how long it takes us to get somewhere.”

He leaned close again, until his eyes were nothing more than a blur of crimson. Yet even though she could not make out his expression any longer, there was no mistaking the earnestness in his words, a part of himself that he only ever revealed to her.

“What I do care about is you.” His voice dropped, low and warm and insistent. “And I care about whether you’re okay. You are so precious to me, and I want to take care of you if there’s something wrong. I want to take care of you even if there’s nothing wrong, just because I want to.”

His grip tightened on her, his words determined. “So be a burden, be slow, be weak. I’ll be here with you, I’ll take care of you, always. Forever.”

Aspen hadn’t expected to cry, and yet her eyes burned nonetheless. So rarely was he so solemn, so sincere. He always showed his love for her ardently, his hand searching for hers as they travelled, his chin resting on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist, little kisses when she was least expecting it, dragging her into his lap any chance he got. He would tuck her against him while she slept, his eyes would brighten whenever she laughed at one of his awful little jokes, he always passed healing potions to her before he tended to himself, much to her own chagrin.

But words such as this made her heart ache, made her feel like she was falling apart as a worn stuffed toy, much loved, came undone. He used his words to tease and trick and enact all manner of his melodramatics. But he was using them now to tell her such sweet things she felt like she was made of spun sugar, light and near-formless and melting with every drop of rain that fell on her.

She shivered again, before she could find the words to respond. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the drizzle of rain was growing stronger once more, returning to the deluge they had endured overnight.

She was cold, she was so terribly cold, and she was growing colder with every passing moment. Her mind slowed, unable to summon the right words. Her body grew heavy, leaden. She felt like she would fall over into the mud and dissolve into nothing.

“Oh my poor pet,” Astarion cooed. He wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking her as close as he could. “You can’t stop shivering.”

She whined, the last dredges of her ire blown away like pollen in the wind. She couldn’t stop shivering, not when her clothes were soaked through and her hair was practically glued to her skin and the wind was as sharp as knives slicing clean through her bones.

“That’s enough of this,” he said, sounding resolute. “We’re finding somewhere to rest, and to wait out this storm. An inn, a boarding house. Somewhere decidedly not outdoors.”

She couldn’t help the weak way she whined, her head falling against his shoulder. “Where? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

He patted her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “There’s always an inn somewhere, even in the middle of nowhere.”

“That doesn’t sound real,” she grumbled.

“Come on,” he murmured, peeling away to find her eyes. “Let’s get moving. If we stay here any longer you really will freeze to death.”

His brow creased, and he smoothed back her hair, readjusting her hood to protect her face, not that it was of much use anymore. “And we absolutely cannot have that.”

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Scenario the DC and Marvel universe collide which Marvel hero would get along best with the following DC heroes and what would their friendship be like

Superman

Batman

Nightwing

Robin either Tim or Damian

Green Arrow

Arsenal

Wonder Woman

Donna Troy

Wonder Girl Cassie Sandsmark

Green Lantern either Hal Jordan or John Stewart

Starfire

Raven

Cyborg

And Beast Boy

Thank You! 😃

Oh Ho a Big One

@confusedhummingbird

Okey Dokey let’s see what I can think up ;-)

Clark Kent - Steve Rogers

Bruce Wayne - Both Tony Stark and Matt Murdock

Dick Grayson - Both Peter Parker (adult) and Kurt Wagner

Tim(my) Drake - Either Peter Parker (Teen/Ultimate Universe) or Miles Morales

Oliver Queen - Clint Barton though more like friendly rivals

Roy Harper - I can see him be a teacher figure to Kate Bishop

Diana Prince - Maybe she can befriend the Jane Foster Thor, maybe even try out lifting her hammer by herself…she did make it jiggle a little bit

Donna Troy - I can see her actually getting along with either Natasha or Gamora, as the type of the friend that can connect with them and encourage them in taking it easy every once in a while

Cassie Sandsmark - Kamala Khan, plain and simple

John Stewart - I see him being on good terms with Carol Danvers given how the both of them are familiar with differing branches of the military, the former a Marine and the latter an Air Force pilot

Koriand’r - Oh There are so many that can get along very well with her given Kory’s legendary friendliness but keeping in theme with Dick befriending an adult Peter Parker, I see Kory totally hanging out with Mary Jane Watson. Bonus points if MJ has some of Peter’s spider powers as Spinneret

Rachel Roth - Probably I see her sympathizers and talking with Wanda Maximoff. While Magneto is nowhere near a bad of a father as Trigon is, they still can both relate to having less than ideal fathers and how their friends are their real family. Oh And yeah I see Rae getting along well with Wanda’s kids Tommy and especially Billy

Victor Stone - I can see him no doubt fawning and being utterly amazed by the tech at Stark Industries especially all those various Iron Suits. Rhodey is the one giving him the extensive tour and they’d have so much to talk about

Garfield Logan - For him, I can see him paling around with all the Wolvies, in particular Laura and Logan themselves. He looks up to Logan no doubt for the latter’s coolness factor and in turn Logan looks at this green fella with some uncertainty for how overtly excited he is but he finds it charming. Also no doubt Gar can shift into an actual Wolverine if Jonathan the Wolverine needs anything

One things for certain everyone here; they are all very uncomfortable with both Frank Castle and Wade Wilson. For differing reasons but still

[steddieasitgoes]

Check your mailboxes, Chapter 8 has been delivered!

Chapter Snippet:

Steve’s not sure what movie is playing on the television today because he’s too distracted by the way Eddie’s bare thigh is pressed against his own. His pale thigh a stark comparison to his own olive-tanned one, thanks to his work shorts and the hours he spends in the sun.  Warm skin on warm skin. It’s innocent.  Accidental.  The touch is enough to cloud Steve’s mind.  It’s even worse when Eddie starts laughing at something happening in the movie. His entire body shakes, thigh pressing into Steve’s more and more until he can’t ignore it anymore and his eyes drift from the TV to the place where they’re connected. Lets his eyes wander the expanse of his exposed thigh and the tattoos that cover the area.  His thigh is a jumbled chaotic mess, unlike his artistically planned arms. It looks more like a middle schooler’s notebook than a masterpiece of artwork, but Steve loves it all the same. There are so many hidden gems, Steve realizes, as his eyes drift farther and farther up until they catch on the frayed hem of Eddie’s shorts. It’s intoxicating.  He wants to reach out and trace the uneven jet-black lines with his fingers. Follow the blotchy curves and sudden edges. Make a mental map of Eddie’s artwork that he can fall asleep to every night. And maybe, just maybe, dip his hands under the hem of Eddie’s shorts. 

keep reading on ao3

[jacaeryse]

@crgnstrk

Dark tidings had arrived on black wings from Dragonstone. Jacaerys had just arrived in Winterfell when a letter had been promptly delivered to the prince. Vermax stirred restlessly as Jace read over the contents of the letter. All color had gone from his face till he was nearly as pale as the snow that collected around them. Luke was dead. His little brother. Luke, future lord of Driftmark. Dead. He gripped the parchment so tightly that it tore beneath his grip before being scattered on the wind. Jace shakily reached for Vermax who craned his neck to regard his prince. His cold flesh was warmed beneath his dragon's olive-green scales. But Jacaerys could feel nothing besides the anguish that started in his throat before bubbling out of his mouth into a sob. His despair was quickly replaced by molten hot anger, urging him to climb up and onto Vermax. Above them the sky swirled with angy grey clouds that threatened to snuff out the afternoon sun. "Sōvēs, Vermax!" Jace ordered, meeting some resistance before his dragon obeyed. It appeared that Vermax was no fan of the cold and was aware of the encroaching storm. Jace would fly to King's Landing and burn it to the ground. Aemond would pay for what he had done in fire and blood. Vermax, refusing to fly in such turbulent and frigid conditions, disobeyed his rider. Jacaerys cursed under his breath, "Daor! Sōves! Sōves!" He urged his dragon who was lowering itself into a clearing blanketed with snow. Jacaerys tugs up and on the dragon's reigns while hot tears stream from his cheeks. Realizing he couldn't make Vermax budge, Jace dismounts and sinks onto the floor beside him. His dragon lifts a wing in an attempt to shield his charge from the coming storm. So it was there, in the wilds surrounding Winterfell that Jacaerys wept for Lucerys. He wasn't sure how long he had sat in the snow, curled into himself and grieving. It wasn't until Vermax urged him up and onto his feet with his snout that the prince stood. His dragon was restless out in the open and must have been aware that Jace would surely perish if they remained. Vermax huffed a warm breath back at his rider before starting off and into the forest. Jace quickly followed, managing to climb up and onto Vermax. It was difficult to make out anything past his dragon within the furry of the storm, but in the distance he saw what he assumed was torchlight. He had to return to Winterfell, to explain his sudden disappearance and hope that Lord Stark hadn't seen it as a slight to his hospitality.

Jacaerys hadn't heard much about Cregan Stark but his mother had informed him that they were the same age and that he too had been plagued by loss. He took comfort in that. Cregan would understand the loss of a brother better than anybody.