#sorry for posting these two so much they are occupying all of my brain

[zorangezest]

haha heyyyy [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU] [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU] [THROWS SOUNDWAVE AND BEE AT YOU]

cat dad, puppy son!!

[decaflondonfog]

thinking of kent parson and the aces and all that symbolism... and specifically the ace of spades, which often mirrors the death card in tarot... kent parson as the bringer of death, kent parson as the something that jack needs to leave behind, to let die, so he can start again, so change can happen, so he can become his best self

kent parson knowing he is that to jack but not being able to fully accept it... MY. GOD.

[bobzora]

yeah femc has some really solid romance routes but i just cannot be assed to care too much because there are some crazy level yuri goings on in this game

[azurelyy]

Let's see if I've been shadowbanned by tumblr for not posting in forever. Also, let's see if this gets flagged for me not knowing the TOS anymore LOL. I know most of my followers are here for Naruto content and I am so sorry that this fucking vampire elf has taken over my brain so much that he's the first thing I've written about in forever!

Title: A Bloody Affair

WARNINGS: NSFW beneath the cut. Period oral. F!reader. Astarion goes feral. Fem!reader. Established relationship and slight Act II spoilers. This is just a drabble(ish... I got carried away lmao), but I haddddd to. I’m aware this has been done to death (no pun intended).

His vermillion eyes were darker than usual as you all sat around the firelight, enjoying a hot meal after an unusually hard day of travel. Specks of orange flickered in his gaze like shooting stars through Avernus’ red-hot sky. His hands were tightened into leadened fists by his sides, his lips formed together in a thin line. He’s hungry, and he’s not even trying to hide it.

Amused, you tilted your head to the side, exposing the faded bite marks from when you last allowed him to feed on you a few weeks ago.

“Everything alright, Astarion?” You hummed. “You look pale. Well, paler than normal.”

Astarion laughed, a dark and twisted thing that left your stomach in knots. Would you ever learn to stop teasing him? It only ends badly for you. Every. Time.

“Me? Oh, I’m just fine.” His eyes slowly trailed down your body, locking onto your midsection before flicking back to your face. “You, however,” his fangs glistened in the pale moonlight as he smiled. “You look a little… hot. Too close to the fire, perhaps? Your cheeks are absolutely flushed, my dear.”

And they were. Knowing what the two of you had agreed to out on the battlefield earlier. Awaiting the moment everyone else fell into a deep slumber while you had to sit there, your thighs clamped together as thoughts of Astarion’s tongue ravishing at your core filled your head… It was torturous. Worse than anything Loviatar could come up with.

Karlach scoffed and playfully covered her ears. “Guys! No flirting around the bonfire, pleeeease. It’s hard enough I’ve gone so long without touching someone. I can’t sit here listening to you two flirt all night on top of it.”

You laughed and whispered a soft 'sorry' while Astarion merely hummed his acknowledgement. The rest of the evening was a blur, your mind occupied elsewhere entirely. Finally, when the sounds of snores filled the air and the last of the firelight flickered away, you got up from your bedroll and slowly made your way to Astarion’s tent.

The flap was left partially open and you found Astarion fumbling with a book. He looked distracted, almost like he wasn't reading it at all. The moment you got to the tent entrance, his eyes were upon you - dark, hungry, lustful. You smiled, heat creeping its way up your neck and cheeks, as Astarion swiftly closed the book and tossed it aside.

“Don’t tell me I have to invite you in, darling,” he drawled. “Come here.”

He reached his hand out and you took it gently as he guided you to sit down in his lap. He sighed and nosed his way up the side of your neck, gently swiping his tongue along your still-healing fang marks. His arm wrapped around your midsection, pushing your back against his chest. He's cold, and a small shiver snaked its way down the entirety of your spine as he chuckled a low, "Sorry, pet."

Sweet kisses made their way from your neck to your jaw, until Astarion gently nipped at your earlobe, his free hand slowly roamed up and down your body, squeezing and grabbing at your stomach playfully.

You moaned gently, running your fingers through his silver locks. Astarion's breath hitched in his throat and he slid his hand down to your thigh. His arousal poked into your ass and you rocked in his lap gently; teasingly. His hand became more desperate as he grabbed at your thigh, thrusting his hips gently. You turned your head and ghost your lips over his, meeting his gaze.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he stared at you. You twisted his hair round your index finger and smile up at him wantonly. The two of you hadn't been intimate since his confession a few weeks ago. You have let him feed on you since then, but never initiate anything sexual. You wanted him to do it. Wanted for it to be organic. He was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and you wanted him to know it; to feel it; to be unable to deny your love for him.

Astarion kissed your forehead tenderly, his sweet mouth cool to the touch against your heated skin. He had been surprisingly gentle with you since his confession. Weary, you knew. He had to fight against his instincts every day, doing what he could to unlearn his past behaviors of doing someone else's bidding. It was going to take time, you knew that. You were okay with it. But when he looked at you like this, when he kissed you softly, it made your heart melt completely. You loved him. You'd never say it first, of course, but the feeling was undeniable to you now. Gods, he was going to fucking ruin you.

His mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. His tongue parted your lips and hungrily dominated the kiss as Astarion flipped you over, pushing you down onto his bedroll. His hands were everywhere - in your hair, on your stomach, rolling down your sides. Yours did the same, needily pawing at his body as you wrapped a leg around his waist and gently clawed at his shirt trying to get it off.

He broke away, his tongue sliding from your mouth slowly. His breathing was ragged, not as controlled as it had been in the past. You realized he's letting go, not forcing himself with you. He's being... real. It's so sweet you nearly ruined the moment by blurting out a stupid confessional right then, but as if sensing your anxiety, Astarion simply smirked devilishly.

"You look beautiful," he whispered. "And you smell even better. I'm going to enjoy tasting you tonight." His voice was sultry and hypnotic, practically intoxicating. You squirmed under him nervously as he adjusted to his knees and leaned over to unhook the latch of the tent, leaving you both immersed in nothing but the flickering candle light.

He was back over you in an instant, untucking his shirt from his trousers and over his head, tossing it to the corner of the tent. His body never ceases to amaze you. His skin is made of pure moonlight, pale and annoyingly perfect, with abs that would put even the most acclaimed gods to shame. Astarion winked and pushed his knee to your inner thigh, spreading you open like a tome as his hands glided across your body.

Your heart thundered within your chest as he stripped you of your undershirt, delicately removing the straps like a present. The sting of the cold night air hit your exposed nipples and they puckered from the temperature change. Astarion's practiced hands moved up the length of your arms, guiding them up above your head and he captured your wrists together in his grip, trapping you under him.

He kissed his way down your temple, your cheek, your neck; gently licking his way down your exposed flesh until his tongue rolled around your areola teasingly.

You glanced down and met his burgundy gaze. His pupils were completely blown out with lust and he continued watching you as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, allowing his tongue to swipe over it gingerly. With a loud gasp you closed your eyes, letting the sensation of his tongue completely overwhelm you. His hand dragged its way from your wrists and his thumb and index finger grip your other nipple as he suckles hard, causing your hips to buck and another garbled moan to fall from your traitorous throat.

A wet 'pop' echoed through the tent as his mouth released you. Astarion growled, actually growled, as he slid his hands up your arms again and gripped your wrists, harder this time.

"Hush now, my sweet," his words were sugary but his tone commanding. "I don't want you waking the whole campground. If you do it again, I'll have to force you to be quiet. Understood?"

You nodded in response.

"Sorry, Starry," you whispered. 

He had started making work of dragging your trousers down the length of your legs but stopped abruptly at your apology.

"Don't be sorry, love," he said. "Just don't do it again."

You were way past the point of being turned on - you were practically going mad with arousal as he removed your pants and slowly kissed his way down the length of your stomach. You kept your hands placed above your head, nervous about what he may do if you dared to touch him. It was exhilarating. Filthy. The blood at your core was dripping to the rag placed between your thighs and your pulse quickened as Astarion's mouth worked its way towards your cunt.

Lust-stricken and dizzy, your vision blurred as he gently pulled down your panties with his index fingers, testing you. He was working slowly, playing with his food. Such a tease.

You squirmed beneath him and clenched the muscles in your thighs, eagerly anticipating his mouth against your sopping pussy. A chill ran down your spine as your panties were fully removed, and you suddenly became all too aware of what was about to happen. You peered at the silver-haired man above you through your eyelashes and were pleased to find him entranced by what you were sure was a bloodied, messy affair and your panic decreased ever so slightly. Of course a vampire spawn wasn’t going to shy away from some blood… no matter the source. 

"You know," you did your best to keep your voice calm and gentle. "That we don't have to do this if it's too much, right?" Even though Astarion was the one to propose this little midnight rendezvous, you couldn't help the small sting of fear from creeping its way to the forefront of your mind. You didn't want him to feel any pressure. And you now knew how hard intimacy was for him. You couldn't believe how blind you had been before; how obvious the façade he put on for you was in hindsight, and you weren't going to allow him to put himself in a position like that again. Not ever.

A low chuckle rumbled from the man below you and you almost passed out from how good his breath felt against the thin veil of fabric covering his mouth from where you needed him most. You tried to shut the thoughts of your arousal out as you waited for his answer, but it never came. Instead, he responded with his tongue gently sliding filthily down the blood-stained cloth that was slowly being removed by his deft hand. Astarion’s voice was nearly indistinguishable to you as he ripped the cloth away, pure gravel.

“If I didn’t want to,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your entrance. “Then you wouldn’t be naked in my tent, love. No more talking now.”

His tongue zig-zagged its way through your pussy before you had a full chance to take in his response, and a loutish moan escaped from deep within your throat as the air was filled with a symphony of lewd slurps. His breath was icy from how aching and seething your cunt was for him, and chill after chill overcame your body with each swipe of his practiced tongue. 

He moved your legs to his shoulders as he continued lapping at you like a dehydrated mutt, completely feral for you. Your thighs clamped against his head and you dug your nails into the pillow, clinging desperately onto something to give your soul purchase to the Earth lest it be transported to the fifth dimension. His arms looped under your thighs and he sunk his nails deep into your flesh, marking you as his while he continued licking you desperately. His mouth was rolling over your folds and sucking at you raunchily - every single move he made was audibly wet and absolutely filthy. It was amazing. You were afraid he might lose control, and you almost yanked at his hair to rip him off you, but his tongue slowed then and rolled up the length of your cunt before circling your clit. 

You whined greedily as you rocked your hips, trying to maneuver his tongue to your engorged nub without permission. Astarion immediately withdrew his tongue then, licking his way down to your inner-thigh and kissing your slick skin before piercing you with his sharp fangs. A frosty sensation shot through your bloodstream and you gasped loudly, tangling your fingers into his hair just as the frigid pulses from where his fangs sunk into you melted to an almost unbearable fever. 

Astarion’s nails were embedded into the soft skin of your hips as he drank from you. Your heart banged against your chest like a prisoner trying to escape from their cell and you were certain it was loud enough that it could be heard by the entire camp. Just as your grip started to loose on his hair, his fangs were replaced by his tongue swiping at the small punctures on your thigh. 

“Such a lovely little treat you are,” Astarion hummed, punctuating it with a final kiss to your thigh. “Thank you.”

Thank you. It was so sincere. So intimate. Two words, yet they held such power over your heart. His mouth was against yours again and your core was burning for him. You were needy. Desperate. Your hips thrust up towards him and he pulled away with a hum. 

“Greedy little thing tonight, I see,” he teased. He smirked down at you and kissed your cheek before moving his mouth once again to hover over your entrance. Two nimble fingers pushed into your core as Astarion’s tongue glided swiftly over your clit. An unfamiliar sound erupted from your chest, a high pitched whine, before his free hand was clamped over your mouth. 

“Shut up.” He commanded, and you were done for. Your hands tugged at his hair hysterically as his tongue circled your clit with a brutal slowness. There was no decency left in you. You were nothing but a husk, awaiting Astarion’s mercy of allowing you the pleasure of coming all over his sweet tongue.

Your teeth sank into the skin of his hand while he fucked you with his mouth. He was loud; slurping and sucking at your pussy like he needed it to survive. The air in the tent was unbearably hot. Your skin was sticky with sweat and your lungs hardly had any oxygen left. Astarion pulled back slightly, his fingers pushing in and out of your entrance with lewd squelching sounds as he demanded, “Look at me.”

Without hesitation, your eyes fluttered open and you watched as he dived his face into your cunt again, his gorgeous eyes locked onto yours. You tried to speak but he only clamped his hand harder over your mouth as he continued lapping at you, the flat of his tongue firmly planted against your clit. The familiar coil in your stomach tightened and then released harshly as you orgasmed, your entire body squirming in delight. Astarion moaned through your orgasm, the timbre of his voice sultry as he drank you in like the most lavish of wines.

“Fuck,” you groaned when Astarion released your mouth. He seductively pulled his fingers out of you and licked off the mess you made on them with a smile before he maneuvered himself to spoon you. 

“Wait,” you said, “I wanted to-”

“Hush, love,” he assured. “I promise I’m content with everything. I want you to be comfortable now. Will you stay with me tonight?”

He nibbled at the top of your ear as his arm wrapped around your middle and brought your body close to his. You hummed and nestled into him, allowing him to be your protective barrier. Being this close to him wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed to be this close to him forever. He was security. He was warmth. He was home.

You nodded as you felt yourself start to succumb to the unbearable drowsiness from the day, but you clung to his hand in yours as his finger painted pretty pictures on the skin of your stomach. 

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered. “And thank you.”

“For what?” You mumbled, doing your best to fight against the fade of sleep.

There was a brief moment of silence as you listened to the sound of your heartbeat steady itself. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. Astarion nestled his face closer, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek and right as you started to drift away, he said the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“For being mine.”

Thank you for reading! If you made it this far, be sure to drop a like or a reblog to support my work <3. I have tons of other stuff on my page if you want to give it a read. This was my first Astarion piece, but I'm sure they'll be plenty more to come because this man singlehandedly got me out of my writing slump!

[chilschuck]

on my hands and knees begging for post-canon confession. reader asks chilchuck what he’s going to do now that laios is king and he’s like “reconcile w my family, work on the union… and hopefully start courting you now that we’re not coworkers?”

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS MADE ME MELT INTO A PUDDLE ANON. WAHHHHHHH i wasn’t sure where i wanted to go with this lil drabble, but it ended up shorter than i would’ve liked it. i hope that’s okay!!! i felt like it was good to end it where i did, heheh…

— PLANS: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw! fluffy. <3

꒰ wc: ꒱ 483 (short but sweet!!)

✦ once again, i’m so sorry this ended up so short!! but i wanted something really sweet with your concept, and this is where my brain took me. (;;;w;;;) feel free to send in another rq again!! <33

“What are your plans now?”

It was such a simple question, but it held so much weight in the space between you. The tavern you two were in filled with laughter and chatter, only to never drown out your voice as he heard it. Taking a sip of his drink, Chilchuck sighed softly. Even in all the noise, you managed to make it out.

He knew what you were asking, it was a simple question: Now that Laios was king, what was he going to do? The half-foot knew his answer before he could even think of verbalizing it.

“Well… See my family again, make up and reconcile. Work on the union…” Chilchuck looked down into his mug, before letting that content grin grow on his lips.

Before you could comment, he interrupted with one more addition. “…And hopefully, start courting you now that we’re no longer coworkers?”

You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop. Not only that, but you could feel your chest heat up from his words alone. Chilchuck let out a light laugh at your reaction.

“You— Want to court me?” The words came out so quietly, but your head was reeling. The man you had eyes for this entire time… ended up having feelings for you too?

“Well, yeah. I would like to.” Chilchuck scratched the back of his head, giving you that bashful smirk that always made you melt. Your own glee was evident on your features, the low tavern lighting illuminating your smile. Before you could help yourself, the words left you in a playful rush.

“So… Does this count as our first date?” Chilchuck set his mug down, your statement causing him to bite back a smile of his own.

“I think I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than this.” The way he said your name brought butterflies to your stomach, the excitement of this new relationship making your heart race. His hand found your own under the table, giving it a light squeeze.

It was quiet for a moment, but not in the heavy way it was earlier. Instead, the atmosphere of the tavern paired with the happiness of your newfound relationship made it welcome. Unable to stay quiet any longer though, you asked a question that was occupying your mind.

“How long? I mean, how long have you wanted to take me out?” Chilchuck rested his head in his palm, contemplating your question for a moment. With a hum, he came up with an answer. “Since… Well, let’s just say a while.” He huffed, cheeks warming at the idea of having to confess how long he’d been harboring those feelings for you.

You leaned closer to him, the drink you’d been sipping on making you feel a little braver. “I can assure you I’ve wanted to longer.” The half-foot looked down at his hand that was still holding yours.

“I doubt that.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <33

[serv0z]

RAHHH a drawing of all the sillies currently occupying my brain right now. Funny thing is!! My last LN related drawing was posted almost exactly a year ago!! how funny! Close-ups and yapping under the cut

I'm running on 3 hrs of sleep bc i stayed up till 5am to make this and then i had a neurologist appt at 8 so!!! (i got officially diagnosed with adhd or add we win, i already forgot which one he said but i get my meds tmrw!!) I might take a nap after this im so exhausted. ANYWAYS.!!! i love. flowey and clover friendship no one start yelling at me abt how flowey didnt care!!! theyre best friends to me!!!! and it works out as im a clover kinnie nd floweys been my comfort character for years now. we win. I don't think monsters really had binders at first (dont use bandages btw guys, dont be like Starlo was!!11) I think the first time one fell into the trash dump or wtvr someone picked it up and then once figuring out its uses just!! boom!! business!! figuring out how to safely make more and!!! finding ways to accommodate certain monsters with different body types!! esp with the spikes and such. Ceroba def helped Starlo out with his bandages often before they were able to get him a binder. the one where clovers drawing is !! an idea of revived!clover or clover staying in the underground in hiding. Martlet got him that shirt :)) and obv the bell earring is from Ceroba. sorry to all my cotl followers i STILL have no colored the 5 body refs of both narinder and lambert. I picked the colors here on a whim so uhmmm it's not official!!! not yet anyways!! i do like what i used for Narinders fur tho, so that might stay idk yet i hte coloring BNJKNKSD i colored this whole thing on a wild impulse.. thus staying up all night. I think clover would really enjoy waterfall if they were ever able to visit it after or during the whole soul thing. It's peaceful and beautiful and also one of my fav areas in base game sooo :) i missed my LN kids. I reread Raccoons on ao3 and remembered how much i loved them and their silly lil dynamic. im a #1 six defender btw i WILL throw hands if u say some wrong shit abt her. mono, less so bc i think a lot of people have a good grasp on his character now but six is ALWAYS villainized. Has been for years nd it ticks me off bc?? she was right for her actions kinda?? not really?? ofc both characters made bad choices that lead to it but dont disregard her feelings either? idk its a whole thing i cant get into on THIS post. a lot of the doodles are just random moments like Six in the Maw with their bigass keys and locks, maybe its one of the ones to the kitchen and thats why she's rushing :D? Mono isnt really. he wasnt meant to be in the end game room but i wanted funky lighting so do with that as u will. Silly stuff with RK and Six, RCG I DID NOT FORGET ABOUT U HUN <333 I JUST DONT HAVE A DESIGN FOR YOU YET!!! same for Low and Alone </3 RK with the nomes my beloved <333 nd ofc the last dance based on the animation on youtube!!! do not tag any of the ln kids as ship!!! and do not tag clover and flowey as a ship either!! only two im fine with in this drawing is staroba or narilamb oki goodnight

[threelionsgirl]

karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

[ukranianacearo]

"Mother", a strong word

Part 2 Part 3

F!reader

Word count: almost 4k

Mention of Innocent zero's real name.

Tw: Mentions of starvation, enslavement (like what Russian empire did to Ukrainians back in 18-19th centuries), mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of birth, harrasing, and attempts at SA and I think that's all. Please, do inform me if you see more.

Pairing: romantically there's none, but reader has to marry Innocent zero.

Genre(?): angst.

Tags: @aiscreamcake (I thought you would be interested)

Author's note: This has been rotting in my brain for over a week and @fellow-anime-weeb927 post only strengthened this lol. Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't recheck it before posting and English isn't my first language. More under cut.

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

Escaping the empire would be dangerous and risky. But even death would be better than what you had to endure. Your nation has been occupied and enslaved by another nation for centuries already, poisoning your people's minds, destroying your culture and language and killing those who were against the system. You weren't a person. At least wasn't considered one. Your lord, the one who owned your family, was a cruel man. Not only towards you and your family, but even to his own kids and his ill wife. When times got tough even for him, you were only 5. His wife's condition worsened, she got bedridden; there even was talks about her possible death. It was the first time he tried forcing himself on you. Fortunately for you, you escaped. Times got worse with the arrival of international market. Selling got worse and so did your family's condition. Your lord paid less and less, to the point where your family starved for days, sometimes even weeks. The first to die was your youngest brother; he was only 3 years old when he died of starvation, you were 6. Two months later, your mother died. The same cause, the same ground buried her. There has started to run rumors about the lord marrying you, since his wife will die soon and he had kids to take care of. Your father had no say in it, after all, you and your family are nothing more, but his property.

You were 7, your oldest brother died at the age of 17. He too, died of starvation. After a few months, your last brother died, at the age of 16. You and your father were devastated, but you only could bury your brother next to your other two brother and your mother. One of the days, you heard your lord talking with his friends about some ships taking people to another land, to another country. But, it was really risky, you could die from any cause there; not that it mattered to you, you could never even imagine having the money to buy tickets for you and your father. So you just continued working. A year passed, then another and now you're 9. One of the evenings, your father didn't come back and you started worrying. You had nowhere to go and seek him, but the lord's house. When you arrived at the door of the house, it was open and you could see your father and the lord talking about something. While trying to focus on what they were saying, you leaned slightly against the door, making sure it didn't move nor made any sound. It was muffled, but you could understand that they were discussing your marriage with the lord. Your father tried to reason that you were just too young for the lord, you only 9, after all. But the lord didn't care.

That day, you lost your father and killed your lord. That day was also the second time your lord trying to force himself on you.

You buried your father next to the graves of your family members the best you could. It was the middle of the night and lord's kids were sleeping in their respective homes, since most of them were old enough to have it. Not caring about lord's dead corpse laying on the floor of his house, you took the money there was; you didn't know how much a ticket to the other country would cost, but even if you had more than needed, it was better to have more than less.

...

The travel wasn't pleasant at all, but you finally was here. Most people at the port called it The Magic Empire. You didn't know if it was because there was actually magic and people could use it without being punished or if it was because people's dreams and wishes would be satisfied. Noticing that many people had some lines on their faces, you didn't want to stick out so you decided to use your necklace. Clenching it in your hand you increased the zone affected by it. Feeling their magic power being stored in the necklace, you changed the course and way of the magic in the necklace to create an illusion of a mark similar to the people around you. As you put the hood of medieval cloak on your head, you start going in the city; the cloak covering your figure completely, hiding the broken clothes you wore; a pair of pants and a T-shirt.

...

In the past 5 months you lived in the Magic Realm, as people from here called it. You were fortunate enough to know the language that people speak here, since you learned it from a dictionary someone threw out while you were still living in your home country. But, life was still challenging, of course. Although, 'challenging' would be an underrating. This realm worked such as higher your magic power - higher your status. So, you had to lie, to live a lie; you didn't have your own magic, you only could use or manipulate magic that you 'stole' with the necklaces. If you stole it by defeating a person, that person's magic was copied by one of the necklaces, and if you 'stole' it by just increasing the area that was under the necklaces' cancellation of magic, you could use a person's magic for as long as they were in the area + a certain amount of time after they were out. In these past month you have worked as anything you could: cleaning people's shoes, selling newspaper, running errands for people, etc... You did your best and most of the errands were done perfectly, and your employers were satisfied with your work, paying you a bonus every now and then. You tried to save as much as possible while still eating something at least once a day. Your plan was to go to a middle magic school, but to do so you would need to deceive many people and even the government, so that they could think that you had actually alive parents, at least. For that, you would need to defeat someone who possessed a mind controlling power and you only had three years to do so: that's when middle school start.

...

It was easier than you thought. That boy really thought he could use you as a punching bag, but ironically, he was the one laying on the cold and dusty ground. Now, you're one step closer to succeeding.

...

This mind controlling magic was actually something. You carefully created a well written story for your play, the realm your stage and everyone the audience. The school you wanted to go accepted you, just like you planned. And thus, the played started.

...

No one has suspected a thing. Which feels kind of weird. But you decide to continue the show, there's nothing else to do.

...

The middle school was good, it had bedrooms for every pair of students, a kitchen and many more things. Just a perfect entrance of a grand show.

...

Few years past by, and it's time to decide the academy where you'll go. There were three options, the ones that will appreciate the show. Easton Magic Academy, Walkis Magic Academy and Saint Ars Holy Magic Academy; in Saint Ars, rules are most important thing and rule breakers are punished harshly. Definitely not for you: you would be considered a criminal at this point. Walkis focused only on strength which is also not the best, tho this academy produced the most divine visionaries at this point. So, you're left with Easton Magic academy.

...

The entrance exam was pretty easy. After that you were assigned to the Orca dorm. Not bad. You can work with this.

...

Eyes. No matter where you went, they followed you, like the hunting past. Were you in class, in the kitchen, training or even in the deep past, you remember eyes following you like a predator. When you were in middle magic academy, you didn't have time to ponder about it at all. Nor when you were doing errands for someone to earn extra money. Sometimes, when you tried to look at the one who was the person with such intense curiosity, you only saw white hair of a passerby, who you guessed was your classmate. Trying to follow that person was impossible, it's like they disappeared the moment you approached the place where magic lingered the most. It haunted you. You had a guess who it was, but with no evidence, you could do nothing, but try to be careful around that person. Cyril Marcus. He was the only one who had those long white locks. And his magic... Rather he used basic spells or his personal time magic or even if he didn't use any at all, you could always sense that difference between his magic and the magic of other people. When a person's potential is great in terms of magic, you can sense their magic differently. But this scared you very much. Even if you knew that your necklaces worked on him as well, you were scared. Better treat a gun as a loaded gun and not as a non loaded one. He seemed much eager to fight against you in the tournament for divine visionaries' candidates.

...

Your fight against him just ended. You won. After all, he was nothing without his magic. But, in your opinion, he was more testing you than fighting you. Right now, it was break time before continuing with the tournament. As you sat on one of the couches in the room, you clenched the necklace in your hand. The other three core necklaces were still deep inside your skin, in the same spot, even after all these years. The square body of the necklaces had some difficult artistic style. You still couldn't figure out which one exactly, but it resembled the baroque style very much. The black hook that was on one of the edges of every body wasn't as delicate as it seemed, just like the black chain that went through it, embracing your neck loosely.

-"You seemed so brave out there, but look at you now." - You snapped your head towards him, the look of shock on your face making him chuckle. His mocking tone didn't help, as it made you more uncomfortable. But you were used to the feeling, so you didn't let it show just like always. - "Don't look at me like that, it makes me think that you didn't expect me." - Deciding to play safe you calmed down your expression to a neutral one and let go of the necklace.

- "What do you want?" - There was no need for chit chat, especially between you two. You two weren't on bad terms exactly, but you weren't friends either. Still, your suspicion about him being the person who stalks you was present on your mind.

- "You're so straightforward, as always."

- "It's better to save the time and energy used to talk about nothing." - As you crossed you arms across your chest while Cyril smiled in that typical sly smile, although to you, it looked more like a smirk.

- "This...show that you play in front of everyone is quite the spectacle. I must admit, it took me a while to see the truth."

- "What are you talking about?" - In this type of situations it's better to play dumb. You couldn't afford for the show to end just yet. It would be a fiasco. Anyway, how did he figure it out? Has he been stalking you for so long just because of that? You made sure he couldn't see your thoughts on your face.

- "Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about. At first I thought you were just a 'Disgraceful Mage', just to find out later that you are magicless. I must admit, your cover is good enough to make me think about you and your magic for quite the years. This fight in particular has confirmed my suspicion. Your necklace isn't just an accessory, am I right?" - His words froze you as he pointed at your necklace. The situation got to the point where you couldn't just deny your way out.

- "It would have been better if you continued thinking that I was a 'Disgraceful Mage'..." - You mumbled, making Cyril look at you with a curious smirk. - "What do you want from me? You wouldn't be here just to talk with me, would you?" - You tried to stay calm, but it was the first time someone saw past your costume. Instead of the character in the play, he saw the actor. You already realized why he was going in circles while fighting. He was out of the zone affected by the necklace, so he still could see magic power. Truly, that potential you saw in him would be enough to end your show.

- "Don't worry that much, I wouldn't want for the show to end just yet. After all, you could call me the most loyal fan of your spectacle. Who else would sit and watch it, while seeing your true form and not the character's?" - It was as is he read your thoughts with magic, although it was impossible, your necklace still worked around you. - "I don't mind your magicless nature, but what about others?" - He slowly walked closer and sat on the couch in front of you - "I'm sure you know they wouldn't accept you if they knew, otherwise you wouldn't be putting this good of a performance. How convenient that I have just the offer for you, wouldn't you say so? You see, I plan on becoming the perfect human, but for that I need to find more knowledge and strong allies."

- "What do I have to do with all of that?" - The palms of your hands have started sweating, but you still somehow managed to act calm enough. Hearing your words, Cyril smirked slyly and put his leg on the other.

- "We both know that magic users tend to rely very much on magic - myself included - and you're someone who shifts their situation a lot with just a lift of your hand. Or even without it. As years went on, you taught yourself to manipulate that necklace very well. When the time will come, I want you to join my association and plan. Of course, I, on my end, will make sure the government won't get you." - It was tempting, but the actor can't just disappear from the stage, it wouldn't be fair. You clenched your left wrist with your hand as you looked at him a bit troubled, trying to stay calm. Seeing your hesitation, Cyril chucked. - "Don't worry. I will give you time to think about it. But when I'll come for an answer, I hope you'll have it." - He said as he got up, walking towards the door in his usual slow and elegant way. You wanted to answer, say at least something. But it felt as if the words got stuck in your throat, sinking in your stomach, leaving you alone with your thoughts haunting you, trying to come up with something, anything. - "So long, dear actress." - He left the room as the voice of a commentator announced the break time over. You were left alone, looking at the floor while your thoughts got to you. How could you afford such a mistake? Your performance was supposed to be perfect, without even the slightest flaw. Clenching the necklace you tried not to let emotions get the best of you. Even if there was a break between the acts, the actor shouldn't forgot that they're an actor. People are supposed to only see the character that they portrait, not the person behind it. One person in the audience saw the actor as they are, but that shouldn't matter. Especially when the person continues to watch the show peacefully.

...

- "Tell me, Cell war," - You started while watching your 'son' in the tank, or better say, in an incubator. Cell war, who was a creation of Innocent zero, turned to look at you patiently, waiting for you to continue. In the past years, Cyril Innocent zero really weird choice of name got to know that for achieving his goal to become "The Perfect Human", he needed six hearts of blood related family. That's how you got to this scene of the show. The audience changed, but the actor and that one specific person stayed the same people, probably. He mixed his DNA with your to create a life. You promised yourself that no matter what, your 'sons' won't live as bad or even worse than you; you would not allowe it as long as you breathe. - "How do you feel about his plan?"

- "If it's something 'father' wants, then it should be done."

...

- "You shouldn't be up this late." - You said in a scolding voice while standing behind the four young boys that stood outside your bedroom door.

- "Mother!" - They four said in unison, as they turned around to look at you. Fanim and Delisaster immediately went to hug you by your legs, since they didn't reach any higher yet, while Doom and Epidem stood by your sides taking your hands in theirs. They all seemed very exited and happy to see you again.

- "We wanted to see you the day you came back from this mission, so we stayed up." - Doom explained in a shy manner. You patted their heads as you hummed, giving a sign of acknowledgement.

- "That's very sweet of you, boys. But you shouldn't lose sleep just because of me. Sleep is fundamental for your health." - You answered in a caring voice, you truly couldn't be angry at them for long. Hearing your words, they looked between each other and then all looked at you.

- "But, mother is also very important for our health." - Delisaster started.

- "You train and play with us." - Doom continued.

- "You don't get angry at us for the slightest mistake and explain everything that we ask you to." - then Fanim continued.

- "And you give us all kinds of sweets." - Epidem finished. You were shocked. All of them were still so young, but understood so much. It wasn't uncommon in your experience, many kids you knew from the streets when you were younger had to grow up too soon - yourself included. But these four boys didn't live that life. Your best guess was that they were so aware of everything because of Innocent zero, their father. You smiled softly at them as you hugged them all.

- "What would I do without you guys, hm?" - They basked in your attention. - "But you gotta go to sleep now, it's already late." - Hearing that they whined in unison, but obeyed and you guided them to their rooms.

...

- "Did you see mother?" - Delisaster asked Doom, as the later was sharpening his sword. The former couldn't find you for a while now and he really wanted to show you one his new tricks with his pole arms.

- "Did you not know yet? She fell into a coma." - Doom tried to act as calm as possible, but in reality he was devastated. The fact that you just fainted out of nowhere wasn't positive at all, especially for the sons. There was no logical explanation for this and no one could figure it out. The ones who were probably affected the least were Domina and Mash, who were still too young to understand it. The room fell into silence's embrace as Delisaster tried to process the devastating information he just learned.

...

- "Domina, you should be useful. That's what mother and I would want. You understand, right?" - His sly tone of voice echoed in the small dark room that could barely be called a bedroom. He stood in front of Domina, looking at the small boy from his height. - "We must do it so that mother can wake up. Do you want her to wake up? Domina."

- "Yes, father." - The small boy looked pitiful. His pink-ish hair was cut just above his shoulders with bangs covering his eyebrows. He was just around 5 years old, yet he seemed as if he didn't eat enough. Domina's was determined to do anything to help his mother regain consciousness and make his father proud. What he didn't understand was that, he shouldn't be the one to fight for it.

...

- "I see you still don't understand, Mash Burndead. If you continue to fight against it, mother won't wake up." - Doom said as he blocked one of Mash's punches.

- "I don't know that mother much, but I'm sure that destroying the world won't help wake her up." - Mash answered in a usual monotone voice as he punched Doom in the abdomen.

...

- "Who is she?" - asked a tall man with white hair and a big sword at his hip.

- "She was retrieved from the castle. Supposedly Innocent zero mixted his DNA with hers to create the six sons. Her name is [Y/N] [L/N]. She studied in Easton Magic Academy back in the days alongside me and Innocent zero. Was reported missing by some acquaintances after graduation. Later on was discovered that she lied to the government, a lot." - Another tall and old man with grey hair answered.

- "So she's also Mash's biological mother... I wonder why she joined Innocent zero in his plan." - The tall man with the sword murmured.

- "I'm sure Innocent zero had some cards in his sleeves to play to manipulate her. She wouldn't go for such length just because of someone else's desires. Especially Innocent zero's, she couldn't care less about the man."

- "Maybe she was in love with him." - The tall man with the sword suggested turning his head slightly to look at the old man. Right after the man finished his sentence, the old one started laughing; when he finished laughing he sighed and started talking.

- "That's impossible, Kaldo. Not even love potions could make her feel something so deep. She herself said that she was unable to feel such love since birth; her brain lacked in that part. I guess she had a secret that the world shouldn't know and Innocent zero knew it."

- "Like what?" - the curiosity got the better out of the man with the sword.

- "Hmm, I don't know. We should ask her after she wakes up. For now, call Mash; I wanna talk with him." - The man with the sword bowed and walked out of the door, while the old man continued looking at the woman in the nurse bed. - "Mother, such a strong word, huh..."

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And that's it :D I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. If you want to be added into the tag list, please comment.

[parisiterileymoon]

Yoo i just read your angel dust x reader in the 40s and it was great! If you ever need to write something in italian i'll gladly translate it for you (i am italian)

Btw are your requests open? If so then can i ask for a sort-of follow up to your aforementioned post? Reader goes to hell after getting shot by angel's dad, some years pass and angel dies too but they don't know they both went to hell and assume the other one is in heaven and one day they meet again out of luck and recognize eachother after having a conversation in a bar or something like that (btw if you could refrain from calling him anthony too much it would be greatly appreciated, nothing against that it's just that my dad is named antonio and it feels kinda weird to read a fic with my dad's name lol, but if you want to call him anthony anyway i don't mind at all), thanks for reading!

If my request violated any rules please tell me so that i won't make the mistake again

You are incredible! I adore how detailed this request is. I will use as little “Anthony” as possible lol.

Angel dust x reader (1940s follow up…or part two?)

C/W: cannon typical violence, grief, loss, mildly suggestive, survivors guilt, regret, crying LOTS of emotions.

~~

70 years. 70 years is how long it’s been. 70 years since you have seen him. It was startling at first. You never thought you would see him again. For a while you just held eachother. You sat there, your face nuzzled in his fluff. “Oh my god I have so much to tell you.” He smiled down at you. He began to talk about the family. You didn’t listen. You just stared at him. At how beautiful he is. You held his bottom set of hands and rested your head on his chest. You’ve never seen him so happy. This beautiful man you have been waiting for him for what it feels like an eternity and he’s finally here. You are in his arms at last. “Hey are you listening?” “No. I’m not. I’m sorry but…you look so happy. I can’t help but think…I mean it’s like- my whole brain is occupied by the thought ‘holy shit…this is it. This is what I have been waiting for. What I have been wanting.’ I’ve waited seventy years, my angel.” Tears well up in both your eyes. “Oh…oh my god.” He grabs your face and pulls it up to his. He kisses you. Not a kiss full of heat, but not with any less passion. A kiss filled with love and adoration. A kiss from a man missing the love of his life for 70 years. 70 years filled with pain and agony. For a moment, he forgot his pain, suffering, trauma, and tears. You are his everything. You are the reason he wanted to hang on. The shred of hope that you might reunite. “I thought you went to heaven” he said after he pulled away. You shake your head. “Why?” You laugh pitifully “I’ve done terrible things…” he sighs. “Because you regretted it. Every time. Every time you shot or stabbed you felt horrible. You brought flowers to their graves. You cried, tha-that can’t mean nothing!” He looks confused and angry. How dare they deny the love of his life entry to paradise? You are the kind of person to cry when Bambi’s mom died every time. Without fail. You put a chocolate smile on his pancakes once! “You’re too good for this shithole, (____)…too good.” His voice shakes as he said your name. You kiss him. Comforting, passionate, painful, sweet, and loving. “If I went to heaven I would’ve never seen you again.” You looked into his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling between the two of you that night.

I think the moral of this story is that…I don’t know hold on to the people that love you.

~~

I cried well writing this. Any feedback is encouraged. Thank you for reading🫂

[aithusarosekiller]

I saw your Jegulus post about them not being the typical teenage romance and can I just give you a double high five in agreement! I then HAD to find one of many moments I've written for them which exemplify this and share it with you. And this one is the one I settled on. Remus' POV, year five for the Marauders, year four for Regulus. Context is, this is the first time Remus has spent time with James and Regulus together after discovering their secret relationship. It's James' birthday and Lily wants James occupied all day so she can prep for his party. Lily also knows about James and Regulus BTW, makes contextual sense in the story (Sirius does not know, doesn't apply to this scene though).

Hope you enjoy. :)

>>><<<

There were people who loved each other, like Remus loved Sirius. He would have handed Sirius his body, heart, and soul. He loved him with every ounce of his being. And yet… There were people who loved each other, and then there was James and Regulus.

Remus could think of no other way to describe it. They weren’t two hearts beating for each other. They were the void between heartbeats. They occupied the infinitesimal moment as an inhale became an exhale. They were two people, who shared a single soul. And being around them was both intoxicating and strange. Remus felt like if he breathed too hard in their direction he’d mess with their air, which was exactly perfect between them as their breaths mingled. For surely two people so melded would only breathe the air of the other. And then they would poke fun at each other and their aura would brighten, literally bringing each into sharper visual focus, before it blurred again as they melted back into each other. 

They didn’t even have to be touching (though they nearly always were) for this phenomenon to take place. And for half the day Remus thought he was merely groggy from the Pamoja wielding. He thought his brain was sending him confused signals as he watched James and Regulus be James and Regulus. 

But a massive lunch, plenty of teenage goofing off, and exploring the surrounding forest left him with a very clear mind and the same mental signals. At which point Remus decided James and Regulus were an exhibition in their own category of relationship, absolutely unique to them. Love was not the word he would use to describe them. It was so much more. They filled the spaces no one else even noticed. And it merged their existence into a single organism. 

It was fucking intense. 

After they parted ways, as James and Remus continued up to the castle together, Remus said tentatively, “hey, so is it always like that?”

“What do you mean?” asked James absently. 

“Er, do you really not know.”

James glanced over at him. “It’s always like that, yeah.”

“Bloody hell.” Remus couldn’t get a good read on James’ face for they were walking side by side, but he thought James might be smiling. “I knew he had to be something special and way more substantial than he looks to withstand your affection, but Godric James. I don’t even know what to call that. I’m not sure it’s physically sustainable.”

“He’s my star.”

“Mate, he’s your fucking universe.”

James playfully threw out an elbow and definitely didn’t look at Remus. 

“What can I say, we are infinite. Don’t look so scandalized, you and Sirius aren’t so different.”

“No, we are very different. We exist in the physical world James. You two are already way out there in your own orbit.”

“See why I can’t lose him.”

They took several paces before Remus spoke.

“James, I’m scared for you. That kind of connection has to be dangerous.”

“Want to stop and have a smoke?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth mate.”

<3

JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR AGES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS

But honestly it's one of my favourite things about them, the poetic quality makes it feel like they're finding each other again just when they need it at the same time as we're finding them when WE need it, you know?

That's so real though, the idea of the two of them being able to almost spiritually feed off of each other's presence is so true. Like existence is centred around them for a moment. They take over everything.

And it's probably bad in the long run but it's so beautiful that the pain is okay. Because without all of the painful bits, were the good parts really all that valuable?

Also I love your style, it feels real and almost factual if that makes sense? Even when you're describing metaphysical aspects the certainty gives a strong feeling of truth and rationality. I like it.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part nine) 🌹

Part Eight 🌹

A/N: This is shorter than my last few chapters sorry!! I have gotten used to a post schedule and I hope this is good enough yall please don't send snakes after me. I love you guys and hope you like this it's 5 am help. ALSO! PLAYLIST HAS BEEN CREATED! Link here and on masterlist. Ofc you don't have to listen, just for funsies :)

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Your senses were awake before your mind was. You could hear the beeping of some sort of machine. Your nerves were on fire and alive. The taste of copper blood was very present on your tongue. Your entire upper body felt sore and stiff. Stiffness that also seemed to wax your eyes shut. They were shut as if with staples, which made your heart drop to your stomach in fear. The possibility made you attempt to open them with even more force, though the attempt was futile.

But the sound of aggressive words, bordering on rage-filled yells, made your eyes shoot open. A part of it was the intensity of the sound, but more so were the voices. You couldn't make out the words, but the tone was more than enough.

As you looked around, you realized you were in a dim hospital room. The lighting was warm, as was the bed you occupied. There were no other patients, but multiple seats surrounded your bed. The TV in front of your bed was turned off, and no nurses were around, but you could see a few in the hallway through a long horizontal window. The same window that gave the loud voices faces. Two faces you knew very well: Sejanus and your father.

Your brain still felt like mush, but even if it was at its normal functional levels, you doubted you could have made sense of the situation. First of all, you haven't seen your father in weeks. Well, technically, you did yesterday, the day of the Reaping, even if only for a few moments. Was it only yesterday? How long have you been knocked out? You tried squirming around to find some sort of clock or a window to see the time of day.

Your efforts were of no avail, although your movements knocked off a tray that you didn't notice laid at the end of the hospital bed. A tray that had glass on it because, of course it did. The sudden commotion alerted not only the still shouting men but a number of nurses who rushed through the door. The shattering sound pierced your ears and kept on ringing as an onslaught of voices attacked your eardrums. You couldn't keep track of the flurry of movement. Nurses were cleaning up the mess, others checking your vitals and doing tests. One forced some water down your scratchy and dry throat, much to your relief.

Sejanus stood by the door, watching and waiting to finally approach you. He was soon joined by your father, who was forced away as he kept on interrupting the nurse's tasks. A few minutes and a bunch of vital checks later, the group left, and your father practically ran to your bedside. Question after question was asked with no break for you to actually answer.

"What do you need? More water? Food? Please, what do you need?"

His voice was on the verge of breaking. You examined your father for a moment. How much of his worry was genuine for your well-being? Was he just seeing his late wife in your place?

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Your throat was too dry, but you kept on trying and trying. One glass of water later and only a fraction of your vocal power came back. Something came out, though it was so mumbled and scratchy; your father urged you to repeat it. But Sejanus knew what you were asking for.

Who you were asking for.

"Ccc..Cor-Coryo?"

Your father physically flinched at your first thought. You just suffered a physical attack, and all you care is about pathetic Snow? You shut your eyes after you spoke, the pain in your throat being too much to bear. Though, they snapped open at the sound of a chair scraping the floor and falling back at the force used.

You watched as your father paced back and forth, clearly trying to hold back some anger. Sejanus made eye contact with you, and the compassion on his face gave you some comfort. He mouthed the word "later" to calm any of your questions.

"No."

Any sort of calm given by your friend was scrapped by your father's declaration. The tilt of your head was enough of a translation of your confusion for an elaboration.

"No more 'Coryo'. "

He practically gagged at the nickname, which made you cringe in return. Your father was never a violent or aggressive man and this side of him was not one you wanted to get used to.

"Nothing good ever comes from dealing with Snows. You think he is so pure? If he is anything like his father, his pure white image will be covered in blood."

You wanted to scream but didn't have the physical capability. Thankfully, Sejanus didn't leave the widower's statement unchallenged.

"He isn't like his father. What is so wrong with all you adults? You force children into the footsteps of their parents! Maybe instead of blaming the sins of his father, realize what Coriolanus did for your daughter!"

You wondered how much Sejanus had to deal with when you were unconscious. His appearance was messy and tired. Did he ever leave the hospital since he came? Your question on how long you've been here has still been unanswered.

After Sejanus's argument, your father looked to you. Rage and offense were clear in his orbs. His stare was enough to make a man of good standing cower. But you no longer cared for his opinion, insensible fears, and blind hatred.

"Why are you even here?"

You managed to rasp out and gather enough energy to sit up, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of his emotions didn't waver, but annoyance was added to the list.

"You are my daughter and got hurt by those savages. Where else would I be? What kind of father would I be if I was anywhere else?"

His answer made the two teenagers in the room scoff and roll their eyes. Sejanus for his description of the districts and you for his hypocrisy.

"You wouldn't be a father. Or at least not worthy of the title. Which you aren't, dear dad."

The step the older man took might as well have shaken the floor with the amount of fury radiating off of him. It was enough to make Sejanus panic and rush to your bedside but was halted by the motion of your hand. Whatever was to be done or said, you were willing to take it. It would only give your argument even more credibility.

"What did you say to me, girl?"

What happened to you, Dad? Where did your love-filled gazes go? Your thoughts only heightened your emotions, and you couldn't hold back, even with your breaking voice.

"I said you aren't worthy of being called my father. A father is there for their child even when the mother isn't there! You lost the love of your life, you think I don't know that? Instead of grieving and rebuilding together, YOU LEFT! Did I only mean something when mom was there?! Did you only tolerate me because I was a copy of your wife? Is the image too painful for you now? Would you have treated Otto like this? You loved him, why don't you love me the same?"

Your eyes flooded with tears as your face reddened. You weren't thinking as you shouted, but if you did, you would have thought that the tears would give your father pause. But it seemed any sympathy or piece of the parent you loved so much was gone. Dead. The man in front of you was as cold as the metal rings on your neck. Rings harshly pulled to force your eyes to look at him.

The pain was burning you, and it felt as if you were being stabbed by a thousand miniature knives all over.

"Listen to me now, dear. You think these rings give you any strength? Want to know why I loved your brother so much? He stepped up. He faced whatever came to him, no matter how bad. But you? You are a coward. You left far before I did. Your own mother was dying, and you never gave her the time of day! Were you so ashamed of her? The love of my life only asked for you, and you couldn't even look in her eyes! She gave you her eyes! She gave you life and love, none of which you seem grateful for. Only looking for it in people who are incapable of it. You ever speak either of their names in vain, I promise you, girl, I will—"

"You finish that threat, and I will finish one of my own."

In your struggle to get your father's hands off of the necklace, you didn't hear anyone enter. But you didn't need to look up to recognize the voice. Even though it was laced with more malice than you could have ever thought possible for an eighteen-year-old, the voice of Coriolanus Snow was always recognizable to you.

His fair-skinned hand covered the wrist of your father, whose grip began slipping on your necklace. You couldn't see much from your angle, but it looked like Coryo's thumb was firmly pressed into a specific spot between the other man's wrist. It only took a few more seconds of sharp pain for the harsh grip pulling you forward to be released.

Due to the force the grip held, when it was released, your head flew backward. But Sejanus, who moved to the other side of you without your notice, was quick to catch your head before any impact. You thanked him with a grateful smile, which he returned. You both turned back to the scene before you.

Coryo was standing above your father, the only other man who might despise him as much as Dean Highbottom. He looked disheveled and exhausted, but the air of authority surrounding him made his appearance look respectable. His lip was curled in disgust, and his hand kept on tightening and releasing. As the seconds passed, it felt as if time slowed just to agonize you. The possibility of the young heir of Snow beating up Tyre Vaun was becoming more likely. But he wouldn't do that. No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't, right?

“I don’t think your presence is welcomed here anymore.”

Coryo’s voice was tight and sharp; he really couldn’t stand another moment with a man who threatened his only daughter. In response, the unwelcomed man laughed mockingly. He got up from his spot by your bed and looked around at the three teens in front of his eyes. A dark-haired boy, whose stretched-out curls represented his patience at this point; a girl with a bandaged neck and sullen eyes that reflected her heart at what has become of her family. And of course, the ever-tall and proud blonde who, unlike his companions, is not in the mood for calm action in the slightest. Coriolanus made a vow, and no matter how far he may have to stretch his morals, he will not break that vow.

"Well, look at this. You think you are all so grown up? You are just pampered children. When you watch the games, watch carefully. That's the real world. And well, y/n, you are old enough for the real world now, aren’t you? You want to be a Snow so bad. Knock yourself out. But when you come crying back, don't expect sympathy."

"If you come back. The Snows are known to be quite possessive and strangling.”

And with that chilling statement, he walked straight out the door, shaking his head like a madman. Your eyes were glued to the door frame even as the vision blurred with your tears. You didn't know what to think. It felt as if you were being torn from the inside out, and all you could do is accept the drops streaming down your cheek. All track of time was lost, even more so than before, as your world crumbled.

However, the hospital bed eventually dipped as you were pulled into a pair of arms. Considering the direction in which the arms came, you knew it was Coryo. Well, that and, of course, the smell.

Roses overtook your senses as you calmed down and snuggled into the embrace. Your eyes closed, and your breathing softened while Coryo’s fingers brushed through your locks. As his fingers drifted through your hair, you began drifting off into some much-needed sleep.

Sejanus left soon after Coryo began comforting you, promising to return with some food for the group. The sight upon returning gave him pause in the door frame.

You were curled up in the blonde’s arms while his head laid upon yours, nose stuffed within your hair. It seemed the smell of vanilla calmed him as much, if not more, than the smell of roses did you. The mutual friend worried he was interrupting a sweet moment, no matter how lost he was on it.

Eventually, the weight of the trays within his hands reminded him of his original task. He cleared his throat quietly as he reentered the hospital room. That notified Coriolanus of the other boy’s presence, but he made no move to change his own. No matter how naive Sejanus might be and outspoken, Coriolanus could trust him. If there was one thing about Sejanus Plinth, it was that he was loyal. To Coriolanus Snow and most certainly you.

Sejanus offered a tray of a delicious-smelling soup and rice with a side of bread and dessert to Coryo. He kept one for himself and put the remaining tray on the table next to your bed. Coriolanus rearranged the position you and him were in so he could eat the dinner he desperately needed. He removed the arm that was around your waist which smotherd you impossibly closer to him.

Instead, the boy moved your head to rest on his shoulder. Once ensuring you were comfortably in slumber still, he began digging in. The first few minutes were filled with a comfortable silence between the two boys. Sejanus wasn't sure how much of the situation Coriolanus knows or saw and wasn't even sure where to start. There may even have been parts Sejanus himself didn't see.

When he arrived at the hospital, he wasn’t even allowed to see you as you were in surgery. The woman with hazel eyes and pretty freckles at the front desk informed the distraught boy that it would be a couple of hours before he could even see you. So he decided to go home for the time being and seek comfort in his ma.

But as he began walking out, a very furious Coriolanus Snow shoved past him. Sejanus wished to call out to his friend but it was quite clear, to Sejanus and all those who moved out of the blonde’s way, that he was not to be trifled with at the moment. Considering all the nasty statements your father spit out about Coriolanus and his family, Sejanus very quickly connected the pieces.

Mr. Vaun must have clearly kicked Snow out, not even giving him a chance to see you.

“What a piece of work. No wonder why him and my father get along so well.”

The sudden break in silence made Coryo laugh as he broke apart the bread. Sejanus, along with you, have spoken in detail of Starbo Plinth’s harsh and emotionless character. He liked you well enough, but you assumed it was because you were “Capital enough”.

“He wasn’t always like that. You know, I used to even wish for him to be my dad. He used to always make sure I was comfortable and laughing. Losing your wife is never easy, but he purposely cut off his daughter.”

“And he calls her a coward.”

The scoff was evident in the young star mentor. You confessed to him all your regrets on one of the many nights you spent at the Snow’s. He knew how much it plagued your mind and to hear it used against you broke any further restraint he had.

“Just kept on blabbering how the districts are filled with barbaric animals. Even though y/n wouldn’t even be here if Arachane had a shred of humanity.”

The statement was uttered through clenched teeth. The girl from ten would still have had a chance to live, no matter how brutal and inhumane that chance was, if she wasn't provoked by her own mentor. The thought of all the chaos Archane caused Sejanus’s blood boil.

“Did anyone else come to visit?”

Coriolanus’s voice broke the musing teen out of his thoughts. Coryo had already finished his food, and Sejanus offered his plate, no longer having an appetite. He didn’t know about his friend's financial situation although he saw the signs in his constant hunger and creatively sewn clothes. He never questioned or brought it up, just helping whenever he could. Coriolanus gratefully took the ever-needed food with a nod.

“Festus, Clemmensia, Lyssie, Felix, and Archane. Seems she has a heart somewhere. At least for her own ‘kind.’ Y/n was still knocked out, and they said they would come back. Probably will soon enough.”

Coryo nodded along and looked at the clock on the far wall outside the room, visible due to his angle through the window. 6:56 p.m.

It was still early enough for them to come, and the thought upset him slightly. He wishes to have more time with you. Alone (Sejanus doesn’t count).

Silence overtook the room once more as the two conversing teens settled back into their thoughts. Only the slight noise of your sheets rustling was heard as you moved to find a more comfortable position. Now that he was done with the second tray and the foreign feeling of being full overtaking his stomach, Coriolanus was able to shift.

He turned on his side and pulled you into his chest while wrapping his arms around you. Snuggling to your liking, you ceased to move. However, the quiet was interrupted again by soft laughter. Looking up from staring down at your sleeping form, blue eyes met crinkled brown ones in curiosity,

“So this is how I find out. I started putting the pieces together but was hoping one of you would fess up. Would have be a nice courtesy, you know.”

Sejanus finished off with a smile. When he first started noticing the small smiles that appeared on either of your lips when the other was brought up, he was confused more than anything. Then he felt weird. He would officially become the third wheel, for starters.

But eventually, his heart grew giddy for his two friends. Sejanus wanted you to be happy, and if you asked him, there was no other man in the capital as good as Coriolanus. Sure, he knew he had issues, but compared to the rest of their peers, he was a far better choice.

Said better choice was currently on fire and as red as humanly possible. This was clearly an odd position for him to be in if he saw you as “just a friend”; he knew that. But he didn't know there were signs prior. It made him feel vulnerable that his emotions were so easily deciphered, no matter if it was just Sejanus. It better have just been Sejanus.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Coryo, you are literally snuggling and smelling her hair.”

The prior thought of him being as red as humanly possible? A new record of blushing has occurred. Sejanus, however, was quick to comfort his called-out friend.

“She isn’t much better. She literally parades your ring around. And don't even try to play it off, we both know why she wears it.”

The smug smile on Coryo’s lips would be quite hard to wipe off as he looked back down to your sleeping form. And there it sat, a thousand glistening snowflakes dangling from your neck.

“She is asleep, right? I do not want to suddenly be sucker-punched.”

A deep chuckle came out of the young blue-eyed teen. There were so many nights of you coming over, especially in the early days; you often fell asleep while Coriolanus was finishing up some work. Coryo was eventually able to tell the signs when you were in deep sleep or just faking it to surprise him.

“She is out like a light. Her nose is fluttering. She only does that when she is in deep sleep.”

The words just came out while young Snow was distracted by your soft appearance in the dim lights. You looked so peaceful, as if you weren't in the hospital due to a bloody attack that could have killed you if only the bottle hit you a few meters to the left. When Coriolanus finally realized Sejanus never responded, he looked back up at a face-wide smirk.

“So you know how she sleeps, huh?”

The stuttering response made Sejanus laugh and grin while he walked over to grab the empty trays to throw out. On his way, he made sure to give his friend a pat on the back which only caused further discourse as Coryo tried to deny any of what Sejanus was trying to imply. His trek to the trash can, which was just by the door, wasn't far but gave him enough range to hear the hazel-eyed lady at the front desk.

“She is right down the hall, second door on the left. Just a warning, visiting hours are almost done, so hurry up.”

The hiccuped “thank you” by Clemensia was more than enough to make Sejanus jump to action. In haste, Sejanus informed the still snuggled boy of the upcoming visitors. Coriolanus jumped out of the bed in the blink of an eye and made sure his facade was in place when his peers came through the door.

“Oh, Coryo!”

Clemmie’s cracked voice flowed through the room as she gave him a teary-eyed hug. He gave her an awkward pat on the back. Festus was quick to peel the dark-haired girl off once seeing the uncomfortable look in Coriolanus’s eyes.

Festus led Clemensia to a nearby chair and sat beside her. But Arachane, held back by the door. It seems Felix and Lyssie were unable to visit. A suspicion confirmed by Clemmie as she was in a dazed state looking towards you. Sejanus didn’t wish to be in any room in which the three newcomers were in, but he knew they were your friends.

And they did care about you, one of the very small list of people. He and Coriolanus took turns in responding to the barrage of questions from Festus and Clemensia. Though Arachne never perked up, staying as still as stone. She drowned out the noise as she stared at your injured figure.

If the situation wasn't so morbid, she would have laughed. The ever-mighty girl who has always been little miss perfect got so injured by district scum. But it was little miss perfect who saved my life, Arachne had to defeat.

She wanted to poke fun at the situation. Mock Clemensia's tears. It was how she dealt with situations. Arachne became bitter and poisonous. But it was that same poison she spat at you moments before you nearly lost your life. She said words to hurt you because she wanted you to suffer, and you suffered. But not by her words, but because you jumped in to save her.

The red-haired girl hated it.

Maybe you should have just let her get hit.

With all the sudden voices, you began to stir. Your eyes opened far easier this time, much to your relief. It took a few blinks to take in the situation. Your first instinct was to feel around for Coryo, but you were quickly assured when you met his blue eyes. The small smile was muscle memory to the sight at this point.

You scanned the room and noticed the new visitors. You tried to respond to as many of Clemensia's questions and settle her panic, but it seemed the hysteria was going to stay for the rest of the night.

Although, as you were consoling the raven-haired beauty, you noticed Arachne’s stoic figure. Her eyes were hard and calculating, scanning over you repeatedly. You sighed heavily as you requested the rest of the group to leave you and Arachne for a few moments. They all seemed reluctant, especially Sejanus who heavily despised the girl. She was the reason you were here after all, or at least in Sejanus’s point of view.

The red head stood by the door even as all her peers glanced her way as they filed into the hallway. The position stayed for a few more seconds. Unwavering mask and crossed arms. You didn't waver under her gaze as you gestured to an empty seat by your hospital bed. With a sigh, she took heavy steps to your bedside.

Upon reaching the chair and settling, her prior scrutinizing glances were focused anywhere but you. As the time and silence went on, her tough demeanor began to crack. The silent sole tear streaming down her face stunned you. Of course, Arachne was human and had feelings, but her constant tough character makes one believe she is incapable of tears. As if it's scientifically impossible that the Arachne Crane sat here so timidly and was crying.

“I hate you. I hate you so much.”

Her declaration of hatred wasn't met with any similar response. No, in fact, you responded with giddy laughter. The vulnerable girl in front of you freaked you out slightly, so it was nice to know Arachne was still, well, her.

“How can you just laugh?!”

“What am I supposed to do exactly? Get upset?”

Your eyes were still sore, but that didn't stop your eyes from rolling. You stared back at the girl as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She seemed to heavily disagree as she huffed and threw her arms in the air.

“YES! That's exactly what you should be doing! Get mad at me, tell me you hate me too! That I deserve to be in that hospital bed not you. That I deserved each and every cut because I’m just a monster, right?! I don't have tragedy after tragedy to hide behind like you do!”

Your eyes crinkled in confusion and lips curled in slight anger. Arachne’s tears had heavily accelerated at this point, streams of black painting her pink cheeks. She had stood up and began pacing back and forth, waiting for your response impatiently. Your head was pounding at this point with the amount of emotions you've had to deal with in such a short time. You should have just shut down the conversation before it turned into a full argument, but how could you?

“Hide behind tragedy? Do you think I want to do that? You really think I sit every night and thank my lucky stars that I have ‘excuses’ for my actions?! Grow up Arachne! Tragedy or not, we have to deal with the weight of our actions. Just because your neck isn't bleeding doesn't mean you don't have your scars. Watching me suffer is a greater punishment than if our spots were reversed.”

She stopped in front of your bed, looking more like a lost little girl than the cold calculating young woman you were accustomed to. She wanted you to get mad and have a reaction but she didn't expect this. Because you were right.

If Arachne got hit like you did, she would only have more fuel for hate for the districts. There wouldn't have been any lesson learned, and every fiber of her being would be used to make the districts suffer even more. Yet, you were the one who got hit. Not because you did anything but because Arachne did.

It felt like Arachne stabbed you herself. She didn't like many people and well you were one of the few exceptions, she also disliked you more than the others. When you got sent away in the ambulance, a small part of her hoped you would finally see the barbarity outside the Capital. That you would grow bitter and hateful like she had become.

Arachne Crane has long known of her jealousy of you, though she would never admit it. She hated that after everything you suffered, you still smiled. You were weak, tired, and covered up in gauze in a stale hospital room, but you still looked as if the sun shone only for you.

The universe had favorites, and you seemed to be the apple of its eye while Arachne could only watch while being devoured by the darkness. The stars still shined for you while she suffocated by the black matter.

“I am sorry though. About the Plinth Prize.”

Your voice was soft as you watched your friend shatter in her thoughts. Arachne may have done this to herself, but it still moved you that she lost her shot at something she has been working years for. She just rolled her still crying eyes and scoffed. The girl had long lost hope that she would win the prize when she saw the dazzling show you and Coryo pulled. You both were already the top contenders for the prize, and it angered her again that you both were so chummy. That you weren’t so cut-throat. Cut-throat.

Did you deserve your cut throat for one last task to win the prize?

“We both know it was never going to be me. My tribute would never have won, and she didn't have anything to offer to the audience.”

You were ready to argue with such a blatant statement about a girl who is now a cold body. But she cut you off with a swift change in subject.

“Shame, though. Dr. Gaul won't get to those proposals from her star mentor.”

The emotions and hysteria of the now smirking girl had ceased as she returned to her normal behavior. Behavior, no matter how sour, brought you some comfort. Arachne Crane was good competition if nothing else.

“Well, why not? I’m going to be here until I get released in the morning. Might as well get something done.”

You matched her smirk as you asked for her to bring some parchment and ink. In all honesty, you did forget the proposals. And well, you had a pretty good excuse, an attack and all; you knew that wouldn't matter to Dr. Gaul.

You didn't necessarily like her as she seemed too manic for your taste, but this was a great chance to put your name out there. Especially in the scientific world as you were heavily interested in going down a path in biology, something you had a real knack for. There were few people more important in that field in the Capital than Dr. Gaul. Being able to please, possibly impress her, would be a major accomplishment. And well, you might be able to sway some public opinion enough to give more chances to the “weaker” tributes.

Arachne grumbled as she handed you the desired items, but you ignored her. She took a seat beside you, settling in to watch you work. With a deep breath and dip of your pen, the bold words were written, dark as the punishment it presented.

THE HUNGER GAMES.

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Feedback always appreciated and hope you have a great day love:)

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

[readyforthegarden]

Meet Me in the Romance Aisle

Moodboard and idea by the amazing @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine and her anon who requested the board! And credit to @joshsindigostreak and Anna again for going back and forth and workshopping some dialogue for this!

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, but other than that, none!

WC: 956

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You pursed your lips as your eyes swept over the colorful spines of the stores book collections. A few were already tucked safely in the crook of your arm, recommendations from friends. You'd been slightly bored with your current reading habits, and wanted something a little more...well, something to keep you occupied on your more lonely nights.

It had been a while since you'd gotten into anything new, most of your bookshelf still housing books you grew up with and young adult dystopian novels. It was time to broaden your horizons, even if it was with smut. You were just exiting the romance aisle, a special edition cover of Pride and Prejudice catching your eye and distracting you, causing you to bump into something solid, dropping your small stack of books.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" you immediately apologized with a small laugh, feeling so stupid for bumping into someone. The someone in question was a tall man, or at least, you assumed tall, as he was already bent at the waist, scooping up the books you dropped.

"No, don't be!" the young man also laughed as he righted himself. "I came around that corner too fast, I totally ran into you."

"Well, it takes two to make a collision." you shrugged, taking back the books he handed you. The man smiled at you, and your heart skipped a beat. His smile was slightly crooked, but oh so cute and charming. His curls hung around his face in near perfect coils, framing his sharp cheekbones. His nose was large and you had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and trace the bridge of it with the pad of your index finger. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." he shrugged. "Actually, you may be able to help me. I'm looking for a book my sister asked me to pick up. Her birthday is this weekend, it's something about fairies? It's supposed to be a really popular series..."

"Oh um," you shrugged a bit. "I'm not sure I'd know just off of that...is there anything else you remember about it? I'm just getting back into reading myself." the man nodded, looking a bit dejected and you couldn't stand the lost look that was crossing his face. "But I'd be happy to help figure it out until we can find an employee who might know!" his smile came back at your quick add-on.

"I'd appreciate it." the man smiled. "I'm Danny, by the way." you supplied him with your name, and the two of you shared a smile again.

"So is this a fantasy novel?" you asked. "We might have to move over another aisle."

"I think so," Danny looked unsure again. "I think the cover of it was red?" with the little information he had, the two of you went up and down the rows and walls of books, talking softly between the stacks.

"Do you uh, do you read a lot?" Danny asked. "Well, I mean y'know, before you took a break?" you glanced up at him as you pulled a red spined book off the rack, reading the back to see what it was about.

"Sometimes. I hate to say it, but sometimes I feel like my brain is too busy to read at all, and I get into these funks where I just can't fathom even reading a small magazine article or long distance relatives facebook post." you chuckled a bit under your breath. "And some books are just so long and drawn out, I just can't. Sometimes you need something fast and quick." not realizing what you said, you didn't catch Danny's smirk or the slight shudder of his chest as he held back a laugh.

"I'm not much of a reader myself." Danny admitted, a bit shyly. "I like it enough, but there aren't many things that spark my interest. Usually I read an autobiography or two a year of musicians, my friend Jake lends them to me."

"It can be hard, especially if a love for reading didn't click when you were young." you nodded. "What autobiographies have you read lately?"

"Oh, uh Dave Grohl's is the last one I read."

"You like Foo Fighters or Nirvana better?" Danny grinned at your question.

"Personally, I think they're both great." he answered diplomatically. "Dave himself is just freaking amazing. His talent alone, I wish I was half the drummer he is."

"Oh, you drum?" you raised an eyebrow, grimacing at the long-winded, half-elvish description on the back of a slightly maroon book, decided it definitely wasn't it, and if it was, you were saving this man's sister from suffering.

"A little," Danny seemed shyer now, giving a little shrug. "I'm in a band."

"Oh nice!" you hummed. "What kind of music do you play?"

"Rock, mostly." Danny answered. Giving him a supportive smile, you adjusted the books in your arm.

"If you play one of the clubs around here, I'd love to see you." you answered. You watched as Danny smirked, this time catching the laugh. "What?"

"Well, we're playing around here soon." he admitted, before changing the subject. "Any luck?"

"Not really," frowning, you turned fully towards him. "Have you tried googling? Maybe we can find the author or a better image of the cover?" Danny took his phone out of his pocket and typed in the same descriptors he gave you. After letting the page load, you peered over his shoulder and sighed seeing the first image. "Ohh that one."

"You know it?"

"Yeah, it wasn't for me, but a lot of people seem to like it. It's a whole series." you answered. "Come on, I can show you now." Danny followed you to where the copy of the book and all of it's sequels were waiting, in the romance section. Plucking it off the shelf, you handed it to him.

"Thanks, I would've been here all day if it weren't for you." Danny smiled that crooked smile at you, and you felt a small pang in your chest, realizing your time with him was now over.

"It was my pleasure." you smiled. "Just uh, if that's for your sister, don't google anymore of it." Danny looked at you quizzically, tilting his head like a labrador retriever.

"Why not?"

"There's a reason we're back in the romance section, Danny." you gave him a look, and you saw him pale slightly.

"Got it." he glanced at you, then to the books in your arms. He seemed like he was stalling, trying to figure out how to stay in your presence. "Well I met you here, what are your books about?" you saw him try and read the back of the book facing towards him. "A reverse harem eh?"

"That," you began, clutching the books closer to your chest. "is third date talk only, Danny." Danny leaned against the shelf of books, looking coolly at you.

"Well we could knock out one date now, d'you have to be anywhere this afternoon?" you blushed, knowing your only plans were going to be going home and getting settled in before ordering takeout and reading your night away.

"As a matter of fact, I don't."

📖 📖 📖

It wasn't long before weekend trips to the bookstore led to dinners out, to drinks after work, and sometimes scandalous makeouts between the stacks when the store was dead and the workers once again, weren't to be found. Before one such date, which is what you and Danny were now labeling every single outing you took together, he had heard your coffee order and memorized it, meeting you early with it already in hand before following you around the book store as you browsed.

Ever the voracious reader when you were in the groove, you'd consumed several books in a short amount of time, on the hunt for more.

"This one sounds interesting," you piped up. "It's a modern retelling of Hades and Persephone, oooh a dark romance." you gasped under your breath, reading the inside of the jacket. In an instant, it was in Danny's open palms, along with two others you had sparked an interest in. As you browsed, you stopped in your tracks. Danny looked curiously, watching as you bent down and with the utmost care pulled an ornate book from the shelf.

"Pride and Prejudice?" he asked. You nodded, it was the same copy that had distracted you and led you to bump into Danny all those weeks ago. You regarded it fondly, feeling as if it had brought you and him together.

"It's cliche, but it's a favorite of mine." you sighed. "I already have two other special editions, I can't justify a third, but it's so pretty. And the pages are gilded ugh!" you closed your eyes, tucking it back onto the shelf, patting the cover like the top of a puppy's head. "I hope she goes to a good home." you continued on your journey, nothing else really stopping and catching your eye. At the registers, you took your stack from Danny, watching as he slipped a book out and moved to the open cashier next to you. You couldn't get a glimpse of the book he chose, but carried on to pay, giving him your rewards membership info to get points toward future purchases.

When you both were leaving, you curiously leaned across his body, trying to obnoxiously peek into the bag he carried. He laughed, pushing you back gently.

"What did you get? We didn't go anywhere near the non-fiction section today." Danny opened his bag and pulled out the book. It was the special edition of Pride and Prejudice you nearly weeped over. "Danny!"

"What?" he defended with a grin. "You said you couldn't justify a third copy. I don't own any copies, it just seemed like common sense for me to buy it."

"You're so-" you pursed your lips, trying to find the right words. "You're so wonderful." Danny leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. In all honestly on his part, he bought it, knowing that a few years down the road, he hoped it'd find a home next to your other editions, on a bookshelf in your shared home.

"Besides, I've never read it, and I think I'd probably like it if you read it to me."

"Oh yeah?" you raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't rather me read about the tall, handsome, curly headed vampire who makes hot, steamy love with his human companion multiple times in one chapter?" Danny stopped in his tracks, staring at you.

"No, let's finish that." he looked around the shopping center sidewalk before scooping you into his arms, placing a kiss on your neck before giving it a little sharp bite. "Let's finish that tonight."

📖 📖 📖

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[outeremissary]

🎸🚨🌹🍷for balthazar perhaps?

Sorry this is coming so late!!! My brain stopped working for a little while. Thank you for the ask and for your patience. :') Under a cut for length...

[prompt list]

🎸 (electric guitar) - What’s your character’s music taste like? Do they have one or two artists they play on repeat or do they have a varied and eclectic collection of music? Do they like mainstream artists or prefer underground musicians? What genres do they enjoy?

I'm going to be completely honest, I almost never feel confident what a modern AU version of one of my fantasy characters would be into and I somehow lost track of the only thing that ever made me think "yeah Balthazar would fuck with this." I will spend the next five months attempting to answer this question if I don't cut myself off at a point so. 😭 Sorry to say that I just don't know where his tastes would fall- I've had ideas really and truly all over the map over the years, from mostly into older industrial and kind of an asshole about it to someone who listens mostly to contemporary club dancepop. There must be some truth between these that's eluding me. Maybe the trouble is that to me it feels like he must be in some way or other a Music Guy but yours truly isn't a Music Guy, more just a guy who listens to music...

Idk. I'm sure he's heard Charli XCX. Whatever that means. Maybe I just think it would be kinda funny if he listened to what's on his own playlist. Don't sleep don't eat, just do it on repeat. Or whatever.

(Right before posting I DID remember I recently answered a similar question for Golarion- compensation?)

🚨 (siren) - What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

Balthazar's relationship with the law has been changed by becoming the law, but not as much as you might expect. Laws have always been more like "suggestions for other people to follow" to him- laws keep people in check, and taking advantage of people following them is what anyone smart would do. Besides, he understands only too well the ways that keeping people in check keeps the lowly down, and he desperately wants to keep himself from ending up at the bottom. As a ruler he's happy to make laws he doesn't intend to follow meant to shape the behavior of others and make it easier to impose his will on them with the pretext of enforcement- though to some degree he's also ambivalent about a lot of mundane rulemaking and content to allow advisors with more expertise figure out the policy for him to approve. And if it eventually inconveniences him, he'll find a way to go around it, causing more principled advisors and companions no end of despair (when and if they learn). It's a philosophy he shares with Jaethal, who he trusts to help him thread the needle to keep it all from appearing as the flagrant violation it is. His selfish caprice is also one of the places he does see eye to eye with Lander- perhaps disrespect for one's own established rules is the only solid foundation of their advisor relationship.

Balthazar has never been arrested himself, but he's had a lot of close encounters both while traveling and in his home city of Absalom. He grew up poor and spent a lot of time out in the city without his father, frequently occupied by work, around. Being a scruffy, unattended kid gets you a lot of questions from the corner guards when you linger a little too long in certain places or look too hard at something you're not able to buy. He was always good enough at playing meek and innocent to dodge real trouble- even when he had been a bit light fingered. Being an aasimar helped. Being an aasimar always helps at least a little. And that kind of sets the tone for his whole relationship with law enforcement up until the barony: he doesn't trust law enforcement, he doesn't expect it to be on his side, and he's always ready to wriggle out by finding a way to be a bystander or victim when unwelcome attention is on him. He's also happy to let others take the fall for him.

Of course, when it's his laws being enforced to his ends it's just another tool in his kit. He's a class traitor like that- although also acutely aware that it looks bad to be overzealous using it.

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

(Disclaimer: I am asexual and attraction, especially to physical traits, is sometimes a challenge to imagine)

Physically, Balthazar enjoys toned, strong physiques on any gender. Someone who's well dressed and well spoken also stands out to him, although brazen confidence isn't necessarily compelling- he prefers a partner who's easily flustered and can be pushed around a bit. That's a lot of fun to do. Being pushed back on or talked over is generally a lot less enjoyable, although he's certainly put up with a lot of it in his life. He also does have something of thing for inexperienced partners. Something about the idea of innocence is catnip to him, and he loves playing the part of the worldly lover.

Very little of his preferences reflect aspects of himself; he likes people who are physically unlike him who are far more willing to be dominated than he is. At the same time, I think that perhaps he has an appreciation for people who challenge him that he hasn't fully acknowledged himself, and a certain fondness for steadfast characters who are passionate about what they believe in. An extension of liking people unlike himself, maybe. The emotional extension he's not willing to see.

It's not hard to see how a lot of his preferences map onto recent lovers he's had. Regongar is his type in many ways, although they have incompatible personalities and Balthazar found him far too high maintenance despite being a good time in bed. Tristian is clearly compelling from some angles (naive, inexperienced, easy to tease), but from others might be more challenging- they do push back on Balthazar quite a bit, demand an emotional earnesty from him that he usually isn't comfortable giving a partner, he's not especially comfortable with certain kinds of religiosity, and for a long time they were at frequently at odds and didn't really get along. (And in terms of Vio AU, Vio is physically attractive but really doesn't take being pushed around lying down. Challenging the idea that Balthazar is put off by being challenged...)

🍷 (wine) - Does your oc drink? What kind of alcohol do they enjoy? What are their drinking habits? What kind of drunk are they?

Balthazar drinks! Not as often or as hard as when he was younger and still spending time with people he is firmly no longer in contact with (some of whom died. unrelated, probably.), but the social drinking habit never left him. He likes going out for drinks with friends and acquaintances, or just having a glass of something with dinner. The Stolen Lands are slowly shaping up to not be the worst place to be out in, at least, even if some part of him badly misses the bars and clubs of Absalom he was once up all night in. He tries to avoid being drunk, but the fact is that he's a lightweight and he easily spills into tipsiness if he's not on his guard.

He enjoys fruity things and mixed drinks with interesting flavor profiles, but gravitates towards hard liquor. Brandy is his preference and comes with a sense of class in his mind that he enjoys, but he has a lingering near-nostalgia for the kind of cheap half a step from rubbing alcohol shit he used to do shots of with the other broke apprentices in the neighborhood. Overall, he's not as picky drinking as you might expect and there's a lot he can get down (even if it might not always stay down). He's drunk the goblin liquor with the poison toad in it. It's not even the worst thing he's had. Unfortunately.

When drunk, Balthazar is loud, flirty, confident, and far more honest than he ordinarily is. The "hold my drink and watch this" kind of confident. He's not really proud of it, but a lot of people find drunk Balthazar a lot of fun.

[ladyantiheroine]

Strangers Make The Best Lovers

Summary: Two spies meet in a bar in Cuba. One of them walks away in love.

Pairing: Neil (Tenet) x Paloma (No Time to Die)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+)

Word Count: 7,666 words

Author's Note: I posted this on AO3 a long time ago and now I'm posting it Tumblr just because I feel like it.

She saw him before he saw her, but she wouldn’t let him think that. After a year of working for the CIA, Paloma had learned that the best way to seduce men was to let them live in the happy delusion that they were in control. So, she sat at the bar and rolled her cocktail glass around the counter, feigning complete obliviousness to the handsome blonde across the room behind her.

La Casa de Oro was one of those hotels that was so decadent you felt sinful just walking into it. An ancient structure of gorgeous architecture, filled with expensive people in expensive clothes drinking expensive liquor. The place even smelled like money. Tonight was one of the slower nights, as there were only a handful of patrons and Paloma was the only one seated at the bar. Her eyes glazed over the rows of bottles backlit behind the counter. The bartender, a pretty young man in a blazer, approached her.

“Would you like anything else, miss?” he asked her in Spanish.

Paloma was about to order her usual, but then a memory from the year before came to her and she grinned.

“A martini,” she said. “Shaken, not stirred.”

The bartender left her alone to prepare the drink. Of all the memories she could have of James Bond, how curious it was that his drink order was what she remembered first.

The hotel was just down the road from El Nido Bar, the same establishment that hosted the Spectre party that Paloma had attended with the former 007 just a year before. She was even wearing the same deep blue gown and diamond jewelry from the night. She would have felt nostalgic if her mind hadn’t been occupied with other things.

Sorry, Mr. Bond, she thought playfully to herself. I have my mind on another man tonight. 

Paloma didn’t need to look over her shoulder at the gentleman, because she could feel his eyes on her. When you were a beautiful woman working in espionage, you learned to feel men’s gazes like a sixth sense. He could only see the back of her head from where he sat. His eyes started at her short dark hair, then trailed down her bare back to her floor length skirt. Perhaps he was wondering if her face was as pretty as the rest of her (it was) or if she looked as good without the dress and diamonds (wouldn’t he like to know).

She didn’t know his name. According to her superiors at the CIA, all they had on him was a photograph and the name of his organization: TENET. A curious palindrome of a name for a group that had remained secret for years. But it wasn’t his name that mattered as much as what he had on him. Specifically, information about Tenet. Documents, an agent ID, items that could be traced back to a place of origin. If all went well, then the CIA would be closer to locking down Tenet in less than twenty-four hours.

But for now, the bartender brought her her martini and she took it in her hand by its long glassy stem. She lifted it to her lips and crossed one elegant leg over the other.

~

Don’t get any dangerous ideas, Neil’s brain whispered to him. But despite his otherwise rational, scientific mind, he was having all sorts of dangerous ideas. Such as, for example, walking up to the bar to talk to the gorgeous siren sitting there.

She had been sitting there when he first walked in, but he didn’t notice her until he sat down on one of the empty lounge seats across the room. When he did notice her, he nearly choked on his first sip of the drink the waitress had brought him.

Unlike others in his field, Neil didn’t indulge himself on work trips very often. Despite being told he had a charming demeanor and was flirtatious to a fault, he rarely gave into his baser instincts while on a mission. Not that his current assignment was particularly pressing. He and his boss were meeting a few fellow Tenet agents based in Cuba to discuss future plans. Nothing exciting like their usual agendas, just business. 

But agents who weren’t firing bullets or chasing targets were still agents, therefore they had to remain vigilant about who they spoke to and when. Neil’s boss wasn’t due to arrive in Cuba until the following morning, leaving him bored in the hotel room they arranged for him. He decided to come down to the hotel bar for a drink and listen to the live pianist for some entertainment.

But now the piano melody was only background noise, as was the chattering of other patrons and the clinking of cocktail glasses. There was a gold and blue glow over the bar and everything became a shadowed silhouette except for her.

The life of an agent meant having no connections or ties. You needed to be willing to let go of anything that was no longer serving the mission. Things, people, your own life if things got desperate. Any second spent thinking of something that was irrelevant to the job at hand could be the difference between success and a bullet in your head.

Maybe he was growing soft, maybe it was the vodka tonic he was finishing off, but Neil kept forgetting why he was in Cuba in favor of staring at the girl at the bar. No, not girl. Woman. Girls came and went, but women stuck with you like a stain you couldn’t scrub out.

A tall, elegant figure in a blue evening gown with an open back to reveal smooth, tanned flesh. He watched the bartender bring her a drink, and she plucked it from the counter. A diamond bracelet, long crimson nails. 

But the primary thing he noticed about her was that she was alone. A woman as beautiful as her couldn’t possibly be anywhere alone unless it was by choice. Perhaps she was waiting for a date to arrive. Perhaps she was mending a broken heart after some blind idiot mishandled her. Perhaps, Neil thought, she was looking for someone.

Whatever her reason, they were both alone and unoccupied. And it was such a shame that someone like her would be sitting alone, and so unchivalrous of him to notice and do nothing about it.

The young woman crossed one leg over the other, and that’s when he noticed the slit in her skirt that nearly ran up to her waist. A long, smooth leg with a black high-heeled shoe. He hadn’t even seen her face yet and already he was sweating under his collar.

Neil had grown up on the coast of England, and he remembered the stories they used to tell of sailors and sirens. Men would spot a beautiful woman out on the empty sea, and the sound of her song with the promise of a kiss would drown them in the waves. Beautiful women were dangerous, the myths warned, if men let themselves get swept up in their song.

But unlike the men who told such tales, Neil was not afraid of danger.

He tipped his head back and downed the rest of his vodka tonic. The half-melted ice clinked against the glass and the burn was sweet down his throat. He set the empty glass down, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then adjusted his tie.

~

Only seven minutes past the hour, and Paloma finally heard him move. A chair pushed backward across the floor, footsteps approached closer from behind her, and finally, a male voice made its introduction.

“Poor pianist,” he said. “Playing in a room where no one is listening.”

Paloma turned to the man leaning against the counter next to her. He seemed handsome from a distance, but up close Paloma was struck by how pretty he was. Deep blue eyes, neatly combed blonde hair, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. On top of that, he was impeccably dressed. A dark navy suit with a crisp, white button-down shirt and matching tie. An expensive watch winked at her from his wrist and his shiny leather shoes looked brand new.

This is going to be a challenge, Paloma thought to herself.

“What makes you think no one is listening?” she asked.

Neil’s eyes flicked over Paloma’s shoulder to the pianist. A neatly-dressed older gentleman seated at a shiny black piano, slowly tracing his fingers across the keys. He was deep in thought, unaware there was an audience at all.

“Well, everyone here is either talking or staring into their drinks,” he said. Paloma clocked from his accent that he was English. Tenet must have had plenty of international agents. “No one seems to be paying attention to him.”

“Well, of course,” Paloma said. “You don’t watch music anymore than you listen to a painting.” She grinned and shrugged. “I’ve been listening to him all evening. He’s very good.”

Paloma cocked her head to lift her ear. She paused for a moment, her eyes away from Neil’s.

“Tu, by Eduardo Sanchez de Fuentes,” she said. She looked at him again. “Do you know that one?”

The look on his handsome face said she stumped him.

“I can’t say I do,” he said.

“It’s a classic here,” Paloma said. “Maybe I can pay him a few pesos and see if he knows any Thomas Tallis or Benjamin Britton or…” She looked him up and down. “Freddy Mercury?”

Neil chuckled and glanced down at the floor. Paloma smirked at his flusteredness. Perhaps he wasn’t used to such elaborate responses to his lines.

“I’ll admit I’m not a music expert,” he says. “Are you?”

“I used to play myself for a time,” Paloma said. It wasn’t a lie. Her mother put her in piano lessons as soon as Paloma was old enough to read. “Fuentes is from Havana, just like me. I grew up with his music.”

She lifted her martini to her lips and took a long sip. Neil watched her, and the red stain her lipstick left on the glass. She swallowed audibly then set it down.

“And what about you?” she asked. “Are you an expert on anything?”

It took all of Neil’s willpower not to make some sly wouldn’t you like to know remark. She was charming, and he wanted to savor their chat as long as he could. 

“I’ll admit I’m a musical amateur,” he said. “The arts are not my area of expertise. Science is more of my specialty.”

“Oh,” Paloma said. Her dark eyes widened and her mouth made an O-shape and Neil wondered if those bloody lips tasted like black cherry or pomegranate. “What kind of science?”

“Physics,” he said. He wouldn’t elaborate any further. He wasn’t about to give away his post to a stranger.

“A physicist?” she said. “Work for anyone interesting? Or do you teach?”

Neil shrugged and glanced towards the wall of bottles behind the bar.

“I guess you could call it educational,” he said. If instructing agents as a handler counted as education. “It’s all very boring, and I don’t want to put you to sleep.”

It was a vague answer. The kind of response that brushed questions away like flies. No matter. Paloma wasn’t here to make a friend. She was here to gather materials on Tenet, and maybe see what was under that lovely suit while she was at it.

“I don’t like talking about work off the clock either,” she said. She finished the last sip of her drink and looked at Neil over the rim of her glass. “Though I’m sure your work in physics is quite fascinating.”

She held his gaze as she set her glass down. Neil resisted the urge to tug at his collar.

I’d be happy to show you something physical, his mind whispered.

Too forward. Instead, he gestured to her freshly empty glass.

“You always get martinis?” he asked.

“Shaken, not stirred,” Paloma said. “An old colleague of mine liked it that way.”

“You must work with more fun people than me. My boss never drinks on the job. Always had a Diet Coke when he was thirsty.”

“Well.” Paloma snapped her fingers at the bartender. “Two Jack and Cokes, please.” She turned to Neil with a playful smile. “To honor your boss who never drinks.”

Neil smirked as the bartender bought them two fizzing drinks, each with a slice of lime. Paloma and Neil took their glasses from the tray and the waiter left them alone.

“To your friend’s sobriety,” Paloma said.

“To his sobriety,” Neil said.

They clinked glasses and each took a long sip. They both had vodka in their systems, and now with the added whiskey they were both starting to feel a little limp. 

For the following hour, the two chatted through their glasses of whiskey. Paloma regaled about the best spots in Havana for everything a visitor could want, while Neil spun yarns about his time at Oxford. He dropped a few corny whiskey jokes (“I can walk on water but I just kind of stumble on whisky”) and Paloma responded with a few jabbing quips. The whole time, neither of them told the other their name.

“Is this your first time in Cuba?” she asked.

Neil sipped down the last droplets in his glass. His glass was down to a few clinking pieces of half-melted ice and his upper lip was shiny wet. Paloma resisted the temptation to grab her napkin and wipe his mouth dry.

“It is,” he said. “My…company is expanding to Havana. We’re meeting a lot of interesting new additions to the group.” He set his cup down. “And what about you?” Have you been to the UK?”

“Plenty of times,” Paloma said. “My old colleague, the one with the martinis, he was English.”

“Do you run into Englishmen often?”

“Only the handsome ones who can identify Fuentes.”

“Ouch.”

The whiskey was getting low in both their glasses. Paloma was still mostly upright. She prided herself on being a heavyweight. You needed to be in order to throw back shots one moment and shoot up targets the next. Neil, on the other hand, seemed on the lighter end. Still coherent, but a bit gigglier than when he first stepped up to the bar. This was good, if anything, because he had a nice laugh.

Things were going smoothly, and Paloma was enjoying herself. Most of the time, handling targets felt mechanical. A series of words and gestures and smiles that would lock and lay men like bullets in a bed chamber. But more than once, Paloma laughed at one of Neil’s jokes and briefly forgot what she was here for.

She needed to speed things up. If anything, because she was feeling hot under her skirt and her eyes kept looking at his hands on the glass.

“Don’t worry,” she said. She pressed a hand to his knee. “Everyone I know can play a little piano. I’ve yet to meet someone who can explain reverse entropy.”

Neil dropped his eyes to her hand then lifted them back up to hers. Maybe it was the alcohol or the dim light, but this nameless woman seemed to sparkle. Her eyes were piercing and her smile was knowing and it took resistance not to press his mouth to her crimson lipstick.

“And I’ve never met a woman who could drink me under the table,” he said. “Or remain so charming while she insulted me.”

Paloma’s hand slowly crawled up his thigh and Neil’s blood surged. He felt himself slipping from control, but for the first time, he welcomed it. She leaned close enough that he could smell her perfume, something dark that lingered like a pheromone. He hoped her hand would reach for his shirt and pull him closer.

They were interrupted when the bartender approached them.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I hate to bother you, but we’re closing in ten minutes.”

Paloma glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was past midnight, and when she glanced around the room, the few remaining patrons were gathering up to leave. Even the pianist stopped his playing and was packing away his repertoire. Time had slipped right past her without her even noticing. 

“Of course,” she said, turning back to the bartender. “We’ll take the tab.”

The bartender brought it over and Neil swiped it up before Paloma could reach for her purse.

“You’ve paid with your company,” he said. “Let me have this one.”

He signed the check and sent the bartender off. Now was Paloma’s shot to secure this target. They could part to their separate rooms on friendly terms, or she could persuade him to take her upstairs with him. So, when she stood up from the bar stool, she toddled and grabbed Neil’s shoulder for balance.

“Maybe a whisky after a martini was a bad idea,” she giggled.

Not true, she was still mostly coherent. But if Neil could tell, he was keen to play along. He smiled and pressed a hand to Paloma’s back.

“Do you need help to the elevator?” he asked.

She gave him a smile.

“How gentlemanly,” she said.

Neil offered her his arm and she took it as they sauntered out of the bar. Most of the patrons had already left, so they were alone crossing the hallway to the elevator. Neil pressed the button and when the door split, they had the compartment to themselves.

The doors shut and Neil hit the floor button. There were eighteen floors, and Neil was on floor seventeen, giving them a long way up to the top.

“What’s your floor?” he asked.

“It’s…” 

Paloma felt around the pockets of her dress, and sighed.

“Dammit,” she said. “I lost my key. It had my room number on it.”

Obvious lie, but it got the message across. A glint crossed Niel’s eyes.

“Well, I guess we can go back to the lobby and ask for an extra key,” he said.

He stood still and erect when Paloma leaned closer to him. The elevator suddenly felt small and sweltering and his skin buzzed when their bodies brushed.

“Sure,” Paloma said. She looked at the floor number glowing red above the door, watching it reach the double digits. “But…we’re already heading up, and I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Paloma stood closer to him, far closer than even an elevator required. She could smell the Dior on his collar and see the pricks of stubble on his face. His fingers itched to caress his jawline. Instead, she trailed them along his tie.

Neil smirked. His fingertips grazed the curve of her waist.

“You’re too kind,” he said. They were so close he could feel her breath against his lips. “But where will you sleep tonight?”

Paloma’s fingers curled around his tie until it wrapped around her knuckles. She could practically feel the vibrations of his heartbeat. She was feeling hungry and the elevator couldn’t move fast enough.

“I think I know somewhere cozy I can slip in,” she said.

With a sharp tug, she pulled his lips down to hers. Neil relented immediately, sinking into her kiss with a moan. Her breath was hot in his mouth and he was so hard that his legs trembled a little. Her hands found his hair and his hands found her waist and he pressed her against the cool marble wall of the elevator. She was soft as silk in his arms and her sighs in his ear made the hair on his neck stand.

Paloma tried to retain her composure. One foot in pleasure, the other foot in the task at hand. Though at least one of those feet slipped balance when Neil started kissing along her neck and all the blood rushed down her body.

Neil found the long slit of her dress and bruised his hand up her thigh until he found the waistband of her underwear. Silk negligee underneath. Fuck, this woman wanted to kill him. He slid his fingers under the fabric and felt around until he found an opening. She was hot and wet and open as a rose. Thick kiss to her neck, he pressed his fingers inside.

“Mierda,” Paloma gasped.

She clasped her arms around his shoulders. Neil kept kissing and licking her neck while he pushed his fingers deeper inside, fingering against her sweet spot. Her fingers curled into his hair and he groaned when she pulled.

Neil must have been a bit of a paramour himself, because he knew a woman’s body like his own hand. He knew just where to curl his curls and just where to press down and just the tempo to have Paloma arching her back. She bit down hard into his shoulder but the pain only seemed to spur him on more.

“So beautiful,” he muttered into her neck. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Paloma’s nails dug into Neil’s hair and skin. She moved her hips in tantum with his hands, waves of heat rushing up her body and pushing moans from her throat. She wanted to wet his fingers right there, but her brain was just loud enough to remind her why she was here. She needed to get his room.

Besides, she wanted to fuck him properly.

The elevator rang when they reached the seventeenth floor. The door split and thankfully, no one was there. Paloma looked at Neil and pulled his hand out from under her dress. She gave him a leering smile.

“Don’t you know not to play with your food?” she said.

Neither of them remembered the walk down the hallway. One moment they were stepping out of the elevator, Neil’s hands fumbling for the keycard in his back pocket, and the next the door was slamming shut behind them and they were against the wall again. Paloma’s knuckles paled, and gripping his shirt, she pulled him towards the bed.

Neil’s back hit the mattress and Paloma was on top of him before he could do anything about it. The alcohol and the shock to the senses was electrifying. Paloma straddled Neil’s waist and he pulled off his blazer. He needed her skin against his.

Paloma curled her fingers into his hair. She smacked thick kisses along his mouth, his jaw, his neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of red behind. Neil's eyes fluttered shut and he sunk into the mattress. 

Paloma smacked her lips from his and sat up straight. The room was dark save for the full moon dripping silver light inside. The light met her eyes, the wisps of her hair, and Neil felt helpless underneath her. He grinned while she unbuttoned his shirt.

“Didn’t think I’d be fucking from the bottom,” he said.

Paloma smirked and grabbed his face with one hand.

“How cute,” she said. “You think you’re the one doing the fucking.”

Those words sent a rush down Neil’s body and he was hard enough that she could feel him under her skirt. Paloma released his face and pulled the last button from his shirt. Her hands took their time smoothing down his chest. For a man who belonged in his physicist’s lab, his body wasn’t the kind that belonged under a lab coat or suit. It belonged stripped to the flesh and pressed against silk sheets.

Paloma felt a hot flush and she couldn’t help herself. She cupped his face and brought her lips back down to his, moaning into the kiss. Neil was a puddle beneath her, his hungry hands running up her thighs under her skirt and circling her waist. Paloma threaded her fingers in his pale hair. Fuck, he was a good kisser. She couldn’t get enough of him. She could eat him alive.

But then, her thoughts crawled back to her. The mission. 

Despite the ravenous burn in her skin, fucking the Tenet agent would be pointless if she didn’t get anything from him. She needed to find something, before she disappeared into his body and forgot why she came.

Paloma pulled her mouth from Neil’s and sat up straight again. They were both sweating and panting already and he wasn’t even inside her yet. Neil's hands crawled up to her chest, searching for a zipper or button. She snatched his hand.

“I have an idea,” she said.

Paloma reached down to his belt buckle and tugged it from his pants. Then, she took Neil’s hands and looped the belt around his wrists, before pulling it tight. Neil’s breath hitched when the dark leather caught his flesh.

“I love it when a man comes prepared,” she said. “With the right tools.”

She pushed his hands above his head onto the mattress. Neil grunted at the sudden impact. She was stronger than she looked and it was making his head spin a little. Her face hovered above him, a devilish look in her eye. 

He needed to get a hold of himself. He cleared his throat and gave her his best smirk.

“I guess I should’ve known better than to talk to strangers at a bar,” he said.

Paloma chuckled deep in her throat, a sound that made his blood surge. She grabbed the knot of his tie and yanked it from his throat. 

“Maybe you’re not as smart as that Master’s makes you look,” Paloma said.

She tugged the tie in both hands, then pressed the navy silk to Neil’s eyes. She tied it into a knot behind his head, leaving him blinded in the dark. Oh, this was cruel. She was going to ravish him and not even grant him the privilege of looking at her while she did. She was evil and it made his heart surge.

Once his eyes were covered, Paloma slipped off his body. If she was going to do this now, she had to make it quick. She spotted his suitcase on the floor off the side and stepped quietly over to it.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

He was squirming on the mattress, erection tenting his boxers. Paloma slowly, silently, unzipped his suitcase.

“I just like watching you,” she said. “And I need to slip out of this dress.”

Both statements were true, but Paloma also needed time to search. Thankfully, Neil was either supremely arrogant or supremely stupid, because she found something in the inner pocket lining of his bag. Her fingers curled around a piece of plastic and she pulled out a hard drive. The name TENET gleamed up at her in silver font. It was too easy.

He was too easy.

Paloma slipped the hard drive into the pocket of her dress, before standing up and slipping the dress from her shoulders. It fell in a deep blue puddle on the floor and she stepped out of her heels onto the carpet.

“So handsome,” she said. She pressed a knee to the edge of the bed and crawled forward on top of him. “Would be a shame if someone were to…make a mess of you.”

She whispered right against his lips and pressed her body down against his. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her warm skin and the silk of her underwear. Neil tugged at his restraints but this woman could tie one hell of a knot.

Paloma finished stripping him down. By the time she was done, there was a mess of clothes on the carpet. Once Neil was down to his boxers, Paloma hooked a finger into the front seam and twisted it.

“Fuck…” Neil shuddered. He was already leaking pre-come in his boxers. This woman was torturing him and he could feel the bemused smirk on her face.

Paloma could watch him squirm for hours, but her underwear was wet and with the flash drive secured she could finally enjoy herself. For a moment, she wondered if she could torture him enough to get him to confess something, spill some information.

“By the way…” she said, slowly pulling down the front of his underwear. “I don’t think you ever told me your name, handsome…”

His cock was red, hard and ready for her. She slowly trailed the tips of her fingernail along his length and Neil arched his back with a shiver.

“God, fuck,” he hissed.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?”

Neil’s brain was half-melted and he couldn’t quite understand why she was asking. It seemed a little late for names, and besides, she didn’t need his name to fuck him.

“Why don’t you tell me yours?” he quipped. 

Paloma smirked and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Every nerve in Neil’s body was directed at her hand, his hips twitching into her touch.

“You first,” she said.

She leaned closer to his face, close enough he could feel her hot breath on his mouth, smell her perfume mingled with her sweat. Her hand worked his cock slowly. Agonizingly slow. Neil gasped and moaned as waves of pleasure stirred up his body.

“God, please,” he muttered.

“Don’t talk to God, guapo,” Paloma said, and took his chin with her free hand. “Talk to me.”

She moved her hand faster, faster until Neil’s moans grew louder and he started teetering closer to the edge. Then, just as his jaw was clenching, she stopped. Neil lifted his head, a droplet of sweat on his temple.

“Wha…” he breathed. “Why’d you…”

“I want to know your name,” Paloma said. “I feel like I should know your name before everyone in this hotel does.”

Neil was resistant. His cock was throbbing in her hand and he was slick with sweat.

“Please,” he begged. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“Just tell me your name, and I’ll let you go,” she said.

Neil bit hard down on his lower lip but it felt like his body was being incinerated. His thoughts were foggy and he didn’t know where he was and he just wanted to her to fuck him within an inch of his life already.

“Neil,” he breathed.

“Neil what?”

“That’s all you’re getting from me,” he hissed between his teeth.

He dropped his head back and groaned, in pain or pleasure Paloma couldn’t quite tell. Her hand or not, he was getting close, and she wasn’t going to let a nice cock go to waste.

“Tell me…” Neil panted. “Tell me yours…”

Yeah, not happening, Paloma thought.

She snatched up his length again to silence him. She reached down and peeled her underwear down, letting it fall to the floor. She took Neil’s cock in her hand, then slowly lowered her dripping pussy down on top of him. Neil gasped like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“Fuck,” he groaned. If his hands hadn’t been bound above his head, he would have been gripping the bedsheet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Oh, she’d forgotten how sweet profanity sounded on an English tongue. Paloma licked her lips as she took him inside her. The man felt as nice as he looked, the perfect fuck toy.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you,” she teased. She traced her thumb along his lips and Neil was tempted to open his mouth to let her inside. “Let's make you sing.”

She started swerving her hips, slow at first, savoring, then started speeding up. The mattress springs sung underneath them and Neil went limp as a rag doll. Fuck, she felt amazing. Hot and tight, gripping his cock like a clasp. His hands itched to grab her hips.

Paloma tipped her face up to the ceiling, dark hair falling down her back. Her nails dug into his flesh to maintain her balance while she rode his cock. It was a shame this was just a mission. In any other circumstances, she would have kept him under her for days.

His length slid deeper inside of her and Paloma bit her lip in a moan. Neil’s hips bucked up to meet her, savoring the hot flow of her juices consuming him. His moans deepened to grunt and growled while he was helpless to snap from his restraints.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, I can’t…”

Paloma smirked and licked his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” she purred between labored breaths. 

They both became louder as their pace quickened, loud enough that the walls of the hotel couldn’t contain them. Neil gave up any intention to stay low during his stay, and moaned at the top of his lungs, his tongue wishing he had her name to scream down the hall.

Meanwhile, Paloma was burning red and whispered his name like a spell.

“Neil.”

They came together, with the force of a glass bottle shattered against a wall. The mattress springs sung under their weight and the bed structure creaked like it could crack. Paloma pressed her hands to Neil’s chest, feeling his heart knock at his ribs.

Neil was spent and limp as a ragdoll. Sweat percolated his temple and stained the sides of the tie covering his eyes. He curved his neck back on the mattress, his chest rising and falling with his breath. Paloma leaned down and playfully bit his Adam’s apple, leaving a lipstick stain behind.

“Tell me your name,” he said. “I need to know who you are.”

Paloma smiled and curled into him.

“I’m your dream girl,” she purred. “I’m a sweet dream you can fall asleep to.”

The air in the room was warm and thick. For several minutes, neither Neil nor Paloma remembered where they were or why they were here. The only thing they could recall was their skin pressed together while they drifted off into a smooth, boozy sleep.

~

Neil couldn’t open his eyes when he woke up. For a moment, his heart lurched his chest and he wondered if he’d been captured. Something blindfolded his eyes and his arms were bound above his head. His whole body was naked and shivered in the exposed air.

Before he could panic, the memories of the night before trickled into his ear. He’d gone downstairs to the bar, had a vodka tonic followed by a Jack and Coke, and he spoke to a woman—

His whole body flared red hot in the memory of her. Dark hair, dark eyes, hellish lips and perfect hips that fucked him dry. She strung him up and had her way with him before disappearing back into whatever paradise she came from.

Neil tugged at his restraints until they finally broke loose. His leather belt snapped and the sound made him jolt. He pulled off the tie that covered his eyes and looked around. White morning light streamed from the hotel curtains. Everything was nearly exactly as it had been the night before. Except, a certain blue gown was gone.

Neil swung his legs over the side of the bed and plucked his boxers off the floor. Just as he was stepping into them, he heard his phone ring. After searching around, he found it in the pocket of his pants on the floor.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Neil.” It was his boss, Tenet’s founder. “I’ve just landed and I’m about to head over to the hotel. I’m just checking in. Everything alright?”

Neil stumbled towards the bathroom and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. From his lips to his jaw, down his neck and to his chest, he was speckled with red lipstick stains. He pressed a hand to one on his collarbone, and a hot surge ran through his body.

“Uh, yes, everything is good,” Neil said. Fuck, he was not about to get an erection with his boss on the phone. “I’m just…having breakfast.”

“Well, good. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes then we can head to the base, yeah?”

Neil grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink.

“Yes, excellent,” he said. “I’ll be ready when you arrive.”

He slathered some soap on his face and neck and started scrubbing away. 

“You okay?” his boss asked. “You sound a little…out of breath.” 

Whatever lipstick that woman used, it was damn near impossible to wash out. Neil rubbed at his neck until his flesh was raw red.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I…went for a jog this morning, still catching my breath.”

“I had no idea you jogged.”

“Yes, I also enjoy long walks on the beach. I’ll meet you by the front.”

Neil quickly hung up and finished soaping himself clean. Then he threw on one of the suits he had packed and readied himself in the mirror. He downed a coffee and a bagel from the downstairs cafe and made it to the front of the building just in time for his boss to pull up in a taxi.

“Neil,” he said, stepping out of the car. “Looking sharp.”

“Bienvenido a Cuba,” Neil said, shaking his boss’s hand. “The others are coming around to pick us up. They should be here soon.”

His boss nodded. At some point as the two waited outside the hotel, he glanced over at Neil.

“Did you get hurt?” he asked.

Neil looked at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked

His boss tugged at his shirt collar and pointed to his neck.

“You’ve got something red right there,” he said. “Is that a bruise or something?”

Neil pulled his phone out of his pocket and examined his neck in the camera. Dammit. In the right side of his neck was a spot he missed. From a distance, you can say it was a scrap. But when his boss leaned closer, he could see it was clearly mouth-shaped.”

His boss gave him a sly smirk.

“Neil,” he said. “You didn’t go jogging this morning, did you?”

Neil couldn’t think of another lie, so he just sighed and smirked back.

“I may have treated myself to the bar downstairs last night,” he said. “And I may have run into a lovely senorita while I did.”

Lovely. He may as well have described the ocean as “wet.”

His boss snickered.

“No need to lie about stuff like that, Neil,” he said. Then, his face cooled. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”

To be honest, everything that happened before they made it to the elevator was a bit blurry to Neil. Blame it on the alcohol. But he wasn’t going to tell his boss that.

“Truthfully, I don’t think we did all that much talking,” Neil said with a grin.

The car arrived and Neil slid into the backseat with his boss. While the three other agents chanted, Neil glanced out the window and watched the city pass by them. Just under his suit, his skin still burned with memories of the night before.

Paloma. Her name rolled around his mouth like a hard sour candy. All he had had on her was her face and her name, no other proof that she wasn’t some drunken figment of his imagination.

He pulled his attention from his thoughts long enough to open his briefcase. He rifled around inside for the flash drive with the new database he hoped to show the Cuban associates. But all he found inside were papers and folders, nothing resembling a hard drive.

Then, his hands found something hard and solid, but it wasn’t the flash drive. He pulled out a ring-shaped diamond necklace.

It hit him slowly, like an ice cube melting in his palm. His briefcase was closed tight shut in his zipped-up suitcase. No one could have opened it unless they went looking. The cleaning service hadn’t come by since he arrived. Paloma had been wearing diamonds last night.

Why on earth does a woman go snooping through the things of a man she just met?

Because she knew he would be there. 

He should have been panicked. Furious. Not just at her but at himself for being so careless. This was why he didn’t get drunk or hook up on missions. Anyone you met could be suspect. Anyone. He should have been livid.

Instead, he stared at the earring in his palm and a slow, creeping grin stretched across his face.

Smart woman, he thought. You got me. 

He glanced over at his boss, who was still engrossed in conversation with the associates in the front seats. He was going to have to tell his boss about this at some point. Whoever Paloma was, she had to be dangerous to steal Tenet material. But for now, at that moment, all Neil could do was turn the earring over in his hand.

As they drove, Neil recalled the siren stories he’d been told in his boyhood. He wondered, for a moment, if the effect of the siren song stuck with the sailors even as they were drowning. Perhaps they relished the saltwater filling their mouths and lungs, the icy chill engulfing their bodies, the claws and teeth of beautiful monstresses ravishing their bodies. Why did those myths assume that to be ruined by a beautiful woman was such a bad thing?

Neil slid a hand into his pocket and pressed the earring between his two fingers. He should hand the earring over to his Tenet superiors, see if they can find traces of the woman’s DNA so they can find her. They could hunt her down, bring her back to their headquarters, figure out her name. But he wasn’t ready to hand over the diamond just yet.

He felt like he’d been invited into a game. He’d lost this round, but he wasn’t done playing yet.

~

Paloma rolled the flash drive delicately around in her hand. To think, the fate of an entire secret organization could be compact to such a small, breakable device. And how unfortunate that said device could land in the hands of an agent who couldn’t keep them to himself.

She stood on the bow of the boat that had hours before begun its journey from Havana back to Port Everglades where she’d meet her handler. A salty breeze caressed its fingers through her hair and she sighed into the scent of the foamy sea. A single seagull sung as it flew over her head.

Neil was probably awake by now. He probably noticed that the flash drive was gone. He would seethe that some pretty dress stole his things. The thought made her giggle. Men always liked to think they knew exactly what they were seeing.

She wondered what would come of him once the truth about the drive was revealed. Maybe he’d be fired from the organization. Maybe he’d be heavily penalized, demoted, never trusted with delicate information or materials again,

And then she had the thought: Maybe he’ll come find me. 

On any other day, the thought would have distressed her. A creeping sense of anxiety and paranoia would settle into her bones. But instead, the thought sent a thrill of excitement in her. Maybe Neil would find her another hotel. They could recreate their first meeting again, this time with clear eyes. There could be a scuffle. One that could land them alone in a room together again.

Paloma seduced and used plenty of men. It was a part of her job description. For the longest time, she was good at letting them go once they served no purpose to her anymore. But most of them were only appealing only as means to an end. Stuffy older men with more power and money than anyone knew what to do with. Only Bond had managed to really charm her, and even then, she merely saw him as a colleague and mentor at most.

None of them were as handsome, as charming, as disarming as Tenet’s dashing blonde physicist.  

Which is why, Paloma left him a little memento before she left. One of her diamond earrings, gifted to her by a friend at the CIA, she left in his briefcase. She wouldn’t miss it, and there wasn't enough DNA on it for them to get too far, but it was still risky. Definitely not the kind of thing the CIA would want her to do. The goal was to leave no trace behind, act like a ghost who moved from room to room, acquiring what you needed and leaving swiftly. Dropping a piece of yourself behind was risky.

But despite the risk, Paloma couldn’t help herself. Neil didn’t know who she was when they spoke, so she liked to think the man she meant was genuine. Even she dropped truths of herself at the bar. Her childhood in Havana listening to Fuentes. Her old associate with shaken martinis. Her name.

Now that was a big one. She hoped to get out without telling him, but in the moment she couldn’t help herself. He had a name, a face, and a diamond earring. She couldn’t tell if it would be quite enough to trace her identity, but enough for him to remember her.

Because she would remember him.

Another crisp, salty breeze brushed past Paloma. Her body sprinkled with goosebumps and she felt the wind in her hair. She slipped the flash drive into her pocket and wrapped her arms around herself. As her eyes fluttered shut, she imagined for a moment if Neil had found his way onto the boat. He would walk up to the hardwood front to the bow. He’d stand right behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, his pretty, strong hands smoothing down to her hips. She’d feel his breath on her neck. He’d press a kiss to his cheek, then her neck, then down her back…

The boat turned, and Paloma was snapped from her reverie as she grabbed the iron railing. The blue sky was graying with clouds and it was going to start drizzling soon. She had to get inside the cabin unless she wanted to arrive with messy hair and makeup. She tightened a fist around the drive in her pocket and glanced back to the Cuban shore in the distance.

“Hasta luego, guapo,” she whispered with a smirk.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

I Had Miraculous Ladybug Thoughts, Specifically the Chloe Lila Alliance Situation, and I'm Making It Your Problem! I am So Sorry!

Just. Read the title of this post. I am the most biased person you could have on this topic. You've been warned.

Okay, so. Chloe. If you are in the ML fandom, first off, my condolences, we shall suffer together. Second off, you know that Chloe is incredibly divisive. On the one hand, she's an absolute a**hole to everyone around her at any point in the series that is not season 2 and parts of season 3. On the other hand, it is clear that she has no adults teaching her how to not be an a**hole or regulating her behavior because the only people who have the necessary authority should not have ever been parents.

And then you have that whole thing in season 2 where they started to explain her awfulness and gave her the bee miraculous and she started getting better and developing a support structure, and then she stopped being allowed to have the bee miraculous and dove headfirst off the deep end. This frustrates pretty much the entire fandom. On the Chloe hate side, you wonder why they were wasting time with this. On the Chloe love side, you just got baited, and you're annoyed as heck, and you also are wondering why they wasted your time with this.

But fine, okay, it's dumb, but whatever, the fanfiction can work with this. What the fanfiction has a MUCH harder time working with is Chloe and Lila forming an unholy alliance over their mutual hatred of Marinette and Ladybug. Because the problem here is, it's redundant, it doesn't make sense, and makes Lila even more of a Mary Sue.

Tangent warning: YEAH I SAID IT! I think Lila is a Mary Sue. You don't have to think that. My definition of a Mary Sue is "a character that warps the fabric of the story around them without it making any sense because the author likes/hates/pities/has other strong emotion about this character/ too much to care about a coherent narrative." Not everybody defines a Mary Sue this way, but by this definition, Lila is a Mary Sue. Everyone immediately loses their brain cells around her despite being compassionate and sometimes intelligent individuals who will kill for Marinette in most other scenarios. Nonsensical story warping just because the author said so. Tangent aside:

What this alliance does is it gives you two manipulative lying b*tches who willingly get akumatized to further their petty schemes and are out to destroy Marinette and Ladybug and are weirdly possessive of but don't actually seem to care for Adrien. There's really no point in having two. They occupy the same narrative niche and it is awkward and stupid and I DO NOT LIKE IT. Neither does most of the fandom it seems, because this alliance rarely appears in fanfiction.

There are a couple default solutions in fanfiction:

1. Redeem Chloe. I like this solution. I like Chloe, I think she's entertaining, and I think her interactions with other characters as a good guy are especially entertaining, I think she brings a lot of valuable skills and perspective to the cast as a good guy, I think she has a lot of reasons for being an a**hole that should be properly addressed, and I think the reasons her redemptipn arc got aborted were stupid. Most fanfiction goes the route of having redeemed Chloe viscerally hate Lila too, because Chloe goes after enemies with passion and her whole heart. This is a clean solution, but not great if you don't like Chloe all that much or are trying to make it canon compliant (best of luck to you, canon is all over the place).

2. Only focus on one as a villain and yeet the other out of the story. If Chloe is the villain, set the story during the time that Lila was off being Cerise or wandering around Paris or whatever, or before she showed up. If Lila is the villain, give Chloe an unrelated reason to decide she's not dealing with that today, thank you very much. Usually used in salt fics to dunk on whichever character grinds your gears more without unwanted interruptions. I like salt fics, and this is also a good clean solution. Having both of them is redundant, so just remove one. For Lila, it makes sense because she's a Mary Sue and writing her is annoying, so pretending she never existed is a great fix to that. For Chloe, it makes sense because "lying manipulative ladybug hating b*tch" only really starts being her archetype after the writers screwed up her character with a million inconsistincies. Before that, she was more of a "comically loud, bossy, really obssessive fangirl b*tch," so Lila just works better for certain plots. Downside is that you can't focus on Chloe-Lila interactions, and you sometimes have to do a bit of finagling to figure out how to remove them from a situation they would ordinarily be VERY invested in.

3. Make them hate each other. This is one of my favorite solutions because I have a weakness for villain rivalries that are equal parts comedic and dramatic, but bias aside, this absolutely works. They both want Adrien's sole, undivided attention, and, prior to aforementioned screwing over of Chloe's character, Chloe is the world's biggest Ladybug stan, and Lila is her number 1 hater. They also both have a weird power over the adults in the story that two 14 year old girls really shouldn't have. All these factors make it very easy to guess they would clash. Watch as they try to destroy each other! This plays into the "they both suck, but it's different flavors of suck," and makes those flavors mix BADLY together. The one downside is that it is hard to not make this the central focus of the story, because both of them are so over the top that they're absolutely going to drown out most other going ons, and this is technically supposed to be about Marinette and Adrien. It also erases some of the storylines you can get from an actually thought out alliance.

4. Redeem Lila. I have only seen this in one place, but it is a prominent place and that's more places than my suggestion on this whole ordeal. The prominent place being the Scarlet Lady AU by the very talented and lovely ZoeOneesame. Her take on it was basically:

"Chloe in this AU has the ladybug miraculous, and Chloe sucks at her job, so Lila's ladybug hatred is justified. Marinette is in love with Chat and isn't involved in the ladybug drama, so Lila has no reason to hate her. Adrien is both much smarter and much more active in this AU, so he wouldn't deal with Lila in the same hands-off way. Everybody else is also smarter in this AU and would probably know Lila was lying and also not care because they are forgiving and compassionate. So Lila's lies would most likely get called out, she would have the freedom and desire to figure out who she is beneath the lies, and she would have a justified hatred of Scarlet Lady matched by other characters in the AU, and would probably band together with them."

And thus, no filter, vindictive good guy Lila was born! Again, I have only seen this in Scarlet Lady, but it is amazing over there, so I had to talk about it. Redeeming Lila is an unconventional choice for sure, but I think if you arrange for circumstances where Lila would rather ally with the heroes than the villains, then you can get a lot of mileage out of her people-reading/manipulation skills helping out the heroes while possibly scaring the crap out of them at the same time. This has basically all the same downsides as the Chloe redemption though. It's not fun to do if you're here for Lila salt, and it's ABSOLUTELY not canon compliant.

Now. You may have noticed that nobody who writes fanfiction for this show does the canon Chloe-Lila alliance. This is for a myriad of aforementioned reasons: it's redundant, it continues the confusion of Chloe's character arc, and Lila is a Mary Sue, so anything that involves her tends to be frustrating. But, I think there is a way to make it work, so I'm writing about it.

First of all, don't do what canon did where 6 just have Lila teach Chloe how to lie. Take full advantage of the fact that they are two very different types of a**hole. They can ally for the same reasons: they both are super possesive of Adrien and are raging about him getting together with Marinette. And while I don't like the arc of Marinette being a trash and controlling guardian who shows inordinate favoritism to Alya and Zoe and literally nobody else because she's gay for them, you can still do that and have them both hate Ladybug too. I don't like that plot beat, mostly because it's never really addressed that Marinette is in fact a bad guardian outside of some light sulking from Chat, but it can work. She's a 14 year old girl in way over her head with no adults left to help (except the kwamis, but they don't really count because they are very unhelpful). It makes sense that she wouldn't do a good job at first. But whatever their reasons for teaming up, lean into the fact that Lila is a two-faced secretively awful person while Chloe is an in-your-face publicly awful person. From there, it depends on the tone you're going for.

Chloe is a great villain for humor because she's so loud and dramatic. She can get away with saying and doing really insane and rude stuff on the grounds that she's insane and rude (and also rich and powerful). People don't have any expectations for Chloe to be nice or rational, so she can do stuff like try and write a Queen Banana character into the class film and be met with annoyance and frustration rather than outrage and shock. So if you're going a lighthearted route, let Chloe be the one who does all the public legwork for their schemes, and let her be absolutely over the top about it.

On the other hand, Chloe can also be threatening in a far more tangible way than Lila. Lila can make people think you're a bit of a jerk, but it takes a lot of work for her to come close to getting Marinette expelled, even with all her Mary Sueness to help. Chloe can just look at the principal and say "My dad will fire you and remove all school funding if you don't expel her." Chloe won't make people dislike Marinette because nobody likes her, but she can physically hurt Marinette in ways that Lila can't. So if you're going for drama, you can lean into that. Chloe is in a completely different social class than everyone else and has actual power.

Either way, let Chloe be a complete drama queen who is publicly out to get Marinette, because there isn't anything anyone can do about it.

Meanwhile, let Lila work in the background. Lila has never been a comedic villain, only getting introduced after the show had taken a turn for the more dramatic, so don't bother. Leave that to Chloe's antics. Let Lila be the actual threat who is driving their plans. A lot of the reason Chloe was manageable while Lila never was is because Chloe's rage tends to be directionless and impulsive. She has a short temper that can easily be triggered, but also easily soothed, and she doesn't have any thought out plans or long form schemes. She just does whatever she thinks will make her happy in the moment. Have Lila be the one who convinces her to think in the long-term, and who comes up with an overarching plot to get rid of Marinette, adding a sense of real tension to the situation. Sure, before Chloe could have you expelled on a whim, but she also would have stopped bothering the second Adrien paid attention to her. Lila will help Chloe drop that boundary.

Lila also has the advantage of people actually liking her and being willing to do things for her without threatening or bribing them. Lila can do things like make it so Marinette doesn't have any of her friends around to help in an emergency. She can make it so people believe Chloe might actually be justified in her crusade against Marinette this time. She can plant seeds of doubt and distrust and she can socially isolate Marinette in ways Chloe can't. Make people love and believe in her instead, slowly destroy Marinette's support system, and so on. It not only is really dramatic and upsetting, it basically leaves Mari with just Adrien and Chat to rely on, which is FANTASTIC ship fuel if that's your jam. This can also let you have some other prominent characters come to the fore. Have some Kagami focus. Have some Luka focus. Bring in Socqueline and Felix and see how that changes things.

Point is, between these two, you could have a genuine, non-redundant threat that you can get emotional mileage out of. Lila is on one side turning all of Mari's friends against her and scheming to destroy her in the long term. Chloe is on the other side threatening Marinette's lifestyle---her bakery, her school, her fashion career, her public image, her existence in Paris---anything that can be damaged by the Mayor and the Style Queen is under attack. And then you have Hawkmoth on the other end, throwing akumas in her face and forcing her to make impossible choices. I would imagine Lila also gets akumatized on purpose whenever she needs a little extra help, while Chloe just gets egged on and pushed off the deep end by Lila whenever Lila thinks it'd be advantageous. So that trifecta is super genuinely threatening. But you can also have Chloe being a really stupid drama queen whose fits of rage can still be silly and poorly thought out, even with Lila helping her. And you can have some really heartwarming stuff as the people left in Marinette's support system band together and become even closer to get rid of these two once and for all. I just think this plot beat has a lot of untapped potential if the writers didn't make then fulfill the same narrative role, and I haven't really seen it explored yet.

Feel free to use this idea in fanfic, tell me that it sucks and would be bad, or ignore me, I mostly just needed to write this down!

If the mood strikes me or multiple people express interest (yeah right), I will make a (probably much shorter) post explaining how you can redeem both of them effectively and also why I think that would be bad in most circumstances.

Congratulations if you read this whole rant, now please go to sleep. Please. So much please.

[eddie-brii]

Ahhhh, I'm so sorry I haven't posted! So I've had a lot of random things happening, getting a small business off the ground, working like crazy, an estranged sister coming out of the woodwork to reconnect and the most exciting, I have a date for the first time in years with someone I really like. 😊😳😊😳😊😳

So I think some spiciness is in order so have fun with this one. 18 or older for this one.

After questioning the group had been split up for medical testing, CENTCOM was taking no chances with the possibility of infection. Everyone found themselves at the receiving end of several needles and electrodes before they were finally sent to a common room.

Jason was struggling with the last sticker on his chest, trying to get it off with an alcohol prep so it didn't feel like he was ripping his skin.

"Works like a charm my ass!" He grumbled as walked in with his shirt pulled up to his pecks, where the damn thing had yet to come off no matter how hard he scrubbed. He finally accepted his fate and pulled the electrode off, cursing at the pain and rubbing the area on his chest as it became red. He was just glad they had gotten him in a place where he didn't have much hair. After he'd taken care of his dilemma he finally looked up to take in the rest of the room, he didn't see Nicky or the Colonel in the area. What he did see was Rachel standing by an occupied chair with the same alcohol preps, however, that's not what caught his attention.

"Salim, shirtless.....Fuck!"

Jason felt his face begin to heat up against his will as he took in the older man's predicament. Salim had several of those damn stickers stuck to his chest hair. Jason noted there were patches missing where it looked like someone had tried to just rip them off. The man in question looked miserable, as Rachel tried to be gentle, but even with her experience with Eric's prosthetic didn't seem to help in the situation.

"Sorry, you might have to go the route Eric and Nick did with the shower." Rachel said cringing as Salim flinched again at her gentle tugging.

"I think that may be best. I do, however, appreciate the assistance." He said nodding, completely unaware of the effect he was having on the unannounced person in the room. As if Jason needed another mental picture burned into his brain of Salim. He already was going to have the moment the other man had hurled the iron pike by his head replaying in his head for a good, long while. He broke himself from his thoughts, deciding to not be caught ogling...

"They definitely got you good there, bud." His comment caused the other two people in the room to acknowledge him, he could have sworn he saw Salim's eyes flash and he couldn't think of why til Rachel said something.

"Do you normally just casually show off your chest to everyone outside of the showers, Kolchek?" He started practically spluttering as he yanked his shirt down with a quick "Sorry ma'am" and he looked down to hopefully hide the blush that was sure to be covering his face.

When he looked up again he noticed Salim had become focused on the shirt in his hands, wringing it as his brows knitted together.

"Salim's going to need some help in the showers getting all of these damn things off, you mind going? Eric and Nick already went ahead to help one another with theirs, they should be about done by now". As if on queue the two missing from the group of survivors walked out with fresh clothes and wet hair.

"Sure, I need to grab one anyways." He could pat himself on the back with how steady his voice came out, he was silently praying for strength already as he went to grab everything that CENTCOM had provided them. He turned and found Salim had done the same. As he began to follow the other man Nicky caught his eye and raised an eyebrow at him, Jason just shrugged in response.

Once inside the small area that was set up for changing, Jason tried his best to focus solely on getting himself undressed and not letting his eyes wander to Salim as the rest of his clothes began to hit the floor. He let himself go into autopilot, shirt off, boots off, socks, pants and underwear. A grunt of pain broke through though, he turned around and saw Salim resting against the locker for support.

He had managed to bump the wound on his chest, Jason moved to his side to help him sit down for a minute. Kneeling in front of the older man while gently running his hands around the area to check the injury, careful not to tug on the damn things still stuck to his chest. The dressing held up but adrenaline clearly had been the only thing keeping the pain at bay.

After confirming that Salim was alright, Jason's brain fully registered the position he'd placed them in. He was in between the other man's legs with one of his hands pressed flat on Salim's peck and the other on his abdomen. The other man was staring intently at him, Jason felt heat in his cheeks again and tried not to look down as he realized both of them were completely naked. He tried to put some distance between them but found he couldn't move back as Salim had covered the hand on his chest. The man's other hand came to cup the marines face, making sure Jason couldn't turn away.

"Still acting as my shield, Habibi?" Jason swallowed at the question, he had nothing to hide behind as Salim continued to pin him with his gaze.

"Someone's got to make sure you don't hurt yourself, never know where that smart mouth will lead ya." He saw a flash of amusement in the other man's eyes that was quickly overtaken by heat.

"Indeed, though I would say you're the one who has found himself in a predicament." Jason's face felt like it'd catch on fire at any moment, his head was spinning as blood rushed up to his head and down at the tone of Salim's voice.

Salim managed to get them both standing without breaking contact with Jason, pushing the younger man against the lockers behind him and leaning into where Jason could feel Salim's breath on his ear.

"If this is not what you want, tell me to stop, Jason." Jason closed his eyes and inhaled Salim's scent before he felt the man pull back. Jason opened them to look back at the man that had been causing havoc since stepping foot into his life only a day ago.

"Salim, I want you."