#the urge to just post him even when he wasn't done was so so strong

[hellishgayliath]

MY NEW SON IS HEREE (and Pico's new boo cuz I have the power to do what I want) Bao the raccoon dog/tanuki yokai!

Things about him :D

-Helps run a tea shop with his grandma in the hidden city -Gets mistaken for a raccoon/gets perceived older than he actually is a lot of the time because of his fur markings (he knows it not their fault for not knowing but he gets pretty tired of correcting others about it so much) -Has the ability to transform his appearance. A lot of it is used when there's difficult customers causing trouble in the shop (ex: making himself bigger and take on the role of a bouncer) -Eyes glow blue whenever his magic is in use -Big fanboy of Lou Jitsu -Meets Todd in the hidden city and makes the decision of getting a puppy after talking with him -The dog he forms a connection with is a little akita puppy who he names Momo (whose name means peaches) she is a menance but she's cute so its fine <3 -Their house has a lil mini garden in it -Bao unfortunately does not have a green thumb and has no idea what he's doing when it comes to plant care (which is something Pico helps him out with cuz farming and gardening is one of his favourite hobbies) -Actually gets flustered pretty easily, he's just a big ol dork in disguise

-Bao and Gramgram Mugi are like if you got the grandma from Mulan and Tadashi from Big Hero 6 and just made them into yokai and gave em a puppo

[spacebarbarianweird]

The Skin I Hate

Astarion wakes up from yet another nightmare but this one brings even more disgusting memories that he is used to.

TW: Mentions of SA, mild self-harm Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The weird perk of being an elf is being conscious when dreaming.

Non-elves are blissed with sleep, letting the dark void consume them for a night. Meanwhile, adult elves have to see their own past and re-live the memories in these few hours of meditation.

When it's good memories, it is a dream. When it's bad, it's a nightmare. And unfortunately for Astarion, his memories only fuel the despair.

"Here you are, boy," he hears his master's disgusting voice. "Such a handsome young elf you are."

Cazador is dead. It's not real. It's yet another nightmare that has come to haunt him. The old vampire was so pathetic he didn't even bother to hunt himself, fearing the only thing he could truly enjoy as an undead. There is nothing to be afraid of. Astarion stabbed him twenty-eight times, slaughtered him like a pig he was.

But nightmares keep coming, and there is nothing Astarion can do to stop them.

"You don't want to do this, but you are still doing it."

Astarion remembers everything. He doesn't remember his past when he could see his reflection or the sun, but his mind has preserved all the memories he wishes to forget.

The desire to peel his skin off. The dirty touches. The never-ending tortures and hunger. Sometimes, Astarion thinks this is the reality and the last two years are just a hallucination, an evil trick. Freedom, safety, a woman to hold. It’s all unreal.

Astarion is still locked in the tomb, isn't he? He is still in the kennel, flayed and beaten. He is still in his master's full power, doing every disgusting thing he orders.

… Astarion opens his eyes. He sees the wooden ceiling above him. He hears birds chirring in the distance - it's late afternoon, warm and sunny. Astarion can't understand where he is; the nightmare still holds a grip on his mind. The undead heart feels like a tombstone in the chest.

There is an urge to hide, run, and return to his master because the longer Astarion is absent, the more painful the tortures will be.

Then, he sees a set of armor, too small for him to wear. A travel sack with food he doesn't need, and a sword he doesn't know how to fight with.

Tav.

The realization resembles a lover's embrace, gentle and strong. It was indeed a nightmare. And this is the reality for Astarion. Freedom. A journey under the starry night sky. Days spent in shelters like this abandoned hut in the middle of nowhere.

And Tav's love.

Her trust, her caress. Her loud laughter at his jokes, her concentrated face when she takes care of her weapon and armor.

Their innocent mockery of each other. "Astarion, what does it say?" she asks, pointing at the board at the tavern. "Tav, I still can't apprehend how you lived up to being an adult without getting reading skills." "Oh, I am sorry I was too busy surviving! Not everyone is born in cities!"

His little brave Tav, whose heart is big enough for them both. His fierce companion who believes in him a hundred times more than he believes in himself. Her imminent faith in good, in people. In the chance, there is a cure for vampirism, in the idea that evil forces will always be defeated.

There was time when he thought Tav was just stupid. It took him a while to realize her faith comes from dark places. She knows the sorrows of this world no less than him, but she chooses to always see the light.

And Astarion chooses to be with her.

“Look what you have done to her”, something dark whispers in his ear. "She has to hide in shadows with you. If it wasn't for you, she could stay in the nearest village and sleep comfortably, but because of you, she has to stay here, in this wretched hole of a place. You are tainted with blood and pain, and you taint her as well."

Astarion tries to shut this voice up. But he can't. His own skin feels disgusting as if covered in acid sweat. His body is dirty. His touches are cursed. After everything he did, after everything done to him, after all these people he slept with, after everything happened to him in Cazador's mansion - he has no right to ruin Tav.

Astarion stands up, trying to shut the voice up. The hut is so small it suffocates him, but he can't go outside; the sun still shines.

"Damn! Gods damn you!" he screams, but the voice sounds hoarse as if he broke it in his sleep.

Maybe he did.

Nails dig into the skin, causing dull pain. Astarion makes a sharp movement, leaving deep pink strains on his left arm. Pain is pleasant and familiar. He keeps scratching the skin as if trying to peel it off.

Blood starts dripping to the floor.

The pain brings temporal bliss, and the sight of his bloodstained hand somehow comforts Astarion. Tears stream down the face - tears of desperation. Of darkness.

"Astarion," he hears a quiet voice. "Please, stop."

He turns his head and sees Tav. She wears her camp clothes, a pair of trousers and a shirt. Her hair is wet. She probably has bathed in the nearest river. Feet are bare and covered in soil. Astarion notices a blade of grass stuck between her toes.

Tav approaches him and makes him sit on the floor. He tries to drop the sleeve to cover the injuries as if it could trick her.

Tav gently touches his neck, avoiding the bite mark. Her touch is thoughtful, kind, and warm. She smells like sunlight. Astarion freezes, staring at the wall, not knowing how to look at her, not knowing what to do.

"What happened?" she finally asks. "I got used to your nightmares, but this is the first time you harm yourself."

"Nothing"

Tav sighs and stands up. For a moment, Astarion thinks she will leave him, but she just kneels at her travel bag and gets a healing ointment. He usually applies it to her after fights with monsters while she jokes, "You should see the other guy!".

The ointment prickles the skin and accelerates vampiric regeneration.

"Tell me," Tav asks.

He shrugs. "There is nothing to tell. Nothing you already don't know, just another nightmare. Tell me how the world looks under the sun."

"Astarion, you are my love and my life. But if you keep pretending everything is good when it's not, I will hit you with something heavy."

"You are so adorable when you try to threaten. Like a hissing kitten."

She laughs, and he can't take his eyes off her smile.

Then, Tav takes his injured hand in hers and caresses the knuckles. She waits for him to answer.

"If you woke to me trying to peel my skin off, would you want to know why?" she seriously asks.

He gulps. Of course, he doesn't need to tell now. Tav won't force him. He can tell her later when he feels more like it. Or never tell. It's his right for privacy. But it means Tav will be more preoccupied than usual, that the next sunrise she won't leave his side, that she will offer him her blood more than usual, more than she can give without complications.

Astarion can't do this to her even though he has a right to do so.

"I feel disgusting," he finally admits.

"What?" she is shocked. "Why?"

"I feel my skin is dirty, and no matter how strong I scrub it, I can't escape this feeling. I have done terrible, loathsome things, and the same things were done to me. Any time I touch you, I feel like I taint you, burden you with my own nightmares."

Tav is silent. Her eyes study his face. Is this remorse in her eyes? Sadness? Anger?

"Astarion. I am going to ask you a question", she finally says, "And you will answer it. You will not try to lie. You will not try to banter. You will tell me the truth. Did he force himself onto you?"

Astarion stares at Tav in disbelief. How can she know? How did she guess?

She touches his cheek, and it causes tears to flow again.

"Yes," he answers shortly and bites his lower lip. "Many times. Before he grew tired of me and sent me to the streets."

Tav doesn't say anything. Instead, she opens her arms and hugs Astarion, pressing his head against her collarbone. He can't see her face, but he knows there are tears on her face as well.

"How did you know?" he finally asks. "Tav … did anything… like that…"

"No, I was never assaulted. But every girl, whether she is an elf or dwarf or a human, a peasant, or a noble - knows such things. We are warned about it from a very young age. Even when it doesn't happen to us, we know someone it happened to. I think I guessed the moment you told me about your past."

"You disgust me," he remembers a cruel voice as if its owner wasn't the one who made Astarion disgusting.

She pulls away and kisses his forehead. "You are more than this. More than your trauma, more than your past. You are brave, smart, kind, even if you don’t want to admit it. I know what you are, what happened to you. It's a part of the deal. But please don't hurt yourself. If you do this, you continue Cazador's work. Because he would have mutilated you. The only thing he could not take away from you was your appearance, your face, your beauty. It was the only thing left from the past self. You can't see the reflection, but at least you know you look the same as 200 years ago. And your master needed it to lure victims. He couldn't take it from you without consequences for himself."

Tav puts her hands on his shoulders and looks at his eyes.

"Sooner or later, he would have found someone new, someone innocent to do your job, and he would have mutilated you. He would have taken the only thing you were left with. Every time you try to harm yourself, every time you hate yourself, you continue his job. I don't fucking want this. You don't fucking need this. The bastard is dead. You killed him. We can't change what happened to you. But it means he can't return either."

Astarion puts his hand on his knees and smiles. "I don't deserve you."

"You do deserve me, and I deserve you. There is no part of your body I find disgusting."

Astarion instinctively covers his bite mark. Tav notices it and gently removes his hand. She looks at the bite mark closely as if studying.

Long ago, they agreed he didn't want his bite mark to be touched, and Tav carefully avoided it. He couldn't know what this scar looked like but was sure it was repulsive.

And then Tav kisses the bite mark.

A shiver goes down Astarion’s spine, there is a forgotten memory of being bitten by a hungry monster who didn't know any better than to attack a weak, dying person.

There was a time when Astarion prayed to the gods to save him. Every divine creature he remembered – Lathander, Loviatar, Selune, Tyr, Savras – and a hundred more. No one answered. But what if someone did? He just needs to figure out which one is responsible for making sure Tav is born and survives through childhood, and who put her right in front of the Nauthiloid. When he does, he will become a man of this god.

Then Tav pulls away and looks at the entrance to the hut. "It's still hours till sunset. Is there something I can do to make you feel better?"

You don't need to do anything – the sole presence is enough.

"Сould you give me the book from my bag?"

Tav smiles and opens his travel bag. "There are two books"

"The green one"

"They are both green!" she pointed at the volumes, the cover of the first one was the color of wet leaves, and the other resembled a malachite.

"The one you like more."

Tav hesitates, looking at the covers, and then chooses the second one. When she sits beside him, Astarion wraps his hand around her waist.

"What does it say?" she asks.

"The History of the Western Heartlands," he opens the first page. "But you are going to read it yourself. I don't want you to be dependent on my reading skills."

"Oh", she pouts. "I knew you don't like reading to me!"

"I like reading to you," he says, "And I want to teach you to do the same. Come on, it's not difficult. I need to concentrate on something anyway, and teaching an adult person to read will definitely be a complicated task. I will read, and you will follow the text with your eyes, then I will ask you to repeat what I said. Deal?"

Astarion presses his finger at the first line. "The history of the Western Heartlands is a history of endless battles and destroyed empires.-"

Tav repeats after him. It takes them a few hours just to make it through the first page. He sees her anger when she can't remember a specific letter and almost childish delight when she manages to read the word without his help.

When the sun finally sets, they pack their bags. Astairon helps Tav to put her armor on, tightening the belts, and they leave together into the night.

"You do feel better, don't you?" she asks, walking a few steps ahead of him.

Astarion concentrates on his feelings. The disgust and fear feel like a distant nightmare, something he can easily brush off. Even the bite mark Tav touched so gently stopped causing so much mental pain.

"Yes. I feel great, my love."

[istoleyoursk1n]

How do you think the companions would react to a Tav that's shorter then them but physically capable of carrying them around be it over the shoulder or princess style carry?

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would they react to a short Tav who could carry them easily?

(I’ve made brief mentions of this type of scenario in a previous post so you may check that out as well.)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“My, my, if you would've done this for me sooner, I’d be swooning much more quickly than you realize, you know that darling? Now be a dear and carry me over there!”

He would have been the one teasing you/urging you to try and lift him up in the assumption that you simply cannot. He was merely messing with you at the time.

Though, he didn't think you’d actually do it.

He would be startled by your offer/assurance that you would be able to lift him up without so much as a struggle which he then laughed at, not believing a word you say but allowing you to try anyways.

He was just about to say another snarky remark the moment your hands were on him but the words quickly fell flat on his lips the moment you managed to carry him in your arms.

You've never seen him so wide-eyed and confused than this very moment.

His mind would be too muddled on whether he should continue to be snarky or at least show how surprised he actually is about the whole situation.

Probably ends up being both snarky and impressed because his mind was too much of a mess at that very moment.

Besides, there's a strange sense of security he feels when he has your arms wrapped around him like some sort of shield.

Regardless, he now demands you to carry him like a princess for however long you can as he’d prefer not to walk throughout the entirety of your tiring journey.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“Are you- am I- are you carrying me?! By the hells, am I not as heavy as I thought I was? Or are you that ridiculously strong? Ha! Though, I can’t say I’m against this at all!”

Was a bit apprehensive when you offered to carry him, he was afraid that he might crush your poor arms with his own weight.

Definitely needed you to reassure him three times before he finally agreed. It's not that he wasn't confident in your abilities (sort of), he just wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself.

Was quite shocked when you did manage to lift him so easily, so much so that an awkward little laugh escaped from his lips.

This was certainly a situation he never thought he’d find himself in.

Even so, that awkward little laugh soon turns into a genuine one, his grin is one of the many things that drive you to carry him for as long as he wants.

He can't stop laughing at the absurdity of the moment but he has no qualms, in fact, he's having a blast!

Now you’re both off being absolute goofballs with Wyll playfully referring to you as his own ‘knight in shining armor’. The scene alone would be sweetly sickening to anyone who caught a glimpse of it.

While he’d never ask for you to carry him again (he’s far too worried about exhausting you), he’d always be willing to find himself lifted in your arms once again if not but a temporary relief from the hard journey ahead.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

“Well. I never quite envisioned myself being in this particular predicament… there seems to be a handful of lovely little experiences that I have yet to indulge in, this included. Now, how do you suppose I’d get down?”

Similar to Wyll, he was a tad bit apprehensive when you first proposed such a thing to him. He wasn't quite confident that you had the ability to carry him nor did he really think he wanted to be.

It would take a tad bit more convincing to get him to be on board with it.

He keeps reminding you of the worst-case scenario where you’d find yourself with broken arms and him with a broken back. Truly something he isn't looking forward to.

He probably closed his eyes the moment you lifted him off the ground, half expecting to fall to the ground right then and there.

His limps were all over the place, grasping at what he could to the point where it landed him in an awkward position. It was fairly obvious that he hadn't been carried like this before.

He was pleasantly surprised when he found himself up in the air in your arms. At first, he thought that this may have been the work of some sort of strength elixir but he had faith in you.

It doesn't take long for him to become a flustered disaster who doesn't quite realize what to do or say. He’s in your arms and he’s far too close, he’s being far too awkward about this and it’s rather amusing to watch.

He’s simply holding on as tightly as possible, asking again and again if you are certain that this isn't something you struggling with. I mean, is he truly this light?

If he wasn't smitten with you before then he sure as hell is now. It would take him a while to come around to ask to be carried again but when he does so, he does it with the biggest puppy eyes you've ever seen.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

“No fucking way! I’m up in the air?! Me?! You can lift me?! Bloody hell you're a strong one, soldier. Never thought big ol’ Karlach could be so easily swept off her feet. Gotta repay you for that one!”

She believed that there was no way in hell you’d be able to carry her. She would have crushed you the moment you tried.

Even so, she agreed, it doesn't hurt to try after all. Besides, she's a tad bit curious about herself. However, she does constantly remind you of how heavy she is and to let go if it's something you truly can't do.

She would have backed out last minute to save you if it weren't for the fact that she suddenly felt her feet lift from the ground below.

She would be surprised that your little form somehow has the power to lift her, she’d think it's the coolest thing ever! She's practically laughing her ass off from having you carry her around.

This is the most fun she’s had in a while and she hopes for it to last for as long as your body could handle. Both of your combined laughter would be enough to startle the entirety of the camp.

Right after she’d be more than happy to carry you as well! Consider it a favor after doing the same thing to her. You’ll be having free piggyback rides for days to come! In exchange of free carries from you of course.

She’ll never not laugh every time you pick her up. She's felt so strong and impenetrable most of her life until you came over swooping her off the ground like it was nothing. It makes her fiery heart soar.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

“My hero, and just when I thought I’d have to use a quick healing spell or two. I suppose I don't mind playing myself as the ‘damsel in distress’ if that means I get to end up in your arms.”

She wasn't quite on board with the whole idea of you picking her up just yet. She was confident that you’d drop her and you’d end up falling alongside her.

Though eventually, she did come around to it, not that it took too much convincing. She was a Cleric so if both of you ended up hurt somehow, she’d be there to heal both of you.

She was very careful with choosing how she’d like to hold you just before you lifted her up. She tried to get into the most comfortable position possible that would cater to both you and her.

She was delightfully surprised when you did manage to lift her up in your arms, a warm smile plastering itself across her face from witnessing such a shocking act of strength from you.

If this isn't the perfect moment for her to tease you then you are greatly mistaken because she would be teasing you relentlessly for as long as you keep her in your grasp.

Even so, it's all in good fun. She finds herself loving how feather-light she seems in your hold, reassured that you wouldn't drop her despite her previous apprehensions.

She’d never doubt your abilities again in this case, and she’d be more than willing to be held within your strong embrace once more.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

“Chk. The fact that your arms remain intact is a surprise. Still. I am capable of walking on my own if carrying me like this was your plan. Your strength is noted but I’d rather set onwards with my head held high and my feet on the ground.”

Her immediate answer was no.

She’d think of it to be a rather stupid idea, she didn't even believe that there would be a slight chance of you carrying her properly.

It would take a lot of convincing for her to ever allow you to carry her with her consent. Doing so without it would result in her punching you right in the face. Ingrained reflexes I suppose.

She’d be annoyed but she’d reluctantly agree when the moment comes around. However, she would make a blatant reminder that if you were to be crushed, it was over your own stupidity.

She instantly tensed the moment you lifted her off the ground, her eyes went wide, and she couldn't believe that she was somehow being lifted by you.

She also generally hasn't been lifted before and she doesn't completely realize how she should be feeling about it. It's strange, and it definitely takes her a while to relax.

Eventually, she’d finally sprinkle some form of praise onto you, seeming rather impressed by your bold display of strength. She might even find it somewhat attractive that you could so easily lift her up.

It would take a while to get used to but I doubt she’d be against it anymore. Your strength is truly a perk of yours that should never go overlooked and she thankfully realizes this now.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

“Oh! Well isn't this quite the shocker? Not only do you have a strong heart but it appears that you have strong arms too, haha! And just when I thought I’d undergone everything life had to offer.”

He thought you were joking with him at first. There was no way you’d be able to carry him, he's never seen anyone successfully do so either.

Perhaps he’d let you try if not for his own amusement/pity, but he pretty much was certain that you’d hardly have the strength to lift him an inch off the ground.

Of course, this wasn't to undermine you, but he knew all too well that a man of his stature couldn't possibly be carried like some sort of fairytale Princess.

Safe to say that he was utterly baffled the moment you began to lift him. In all his years alive he has never once encountered someone who was able to carry him with the use of their raw brute strength.

The first thing that came to his mind was worry, he wasn't sure how long you’d be able to hold him or if this was too much. He understands how heavy he is and he’d be absolutely devastated if he were to accidentally crush you.

As fun and ridiculous as this all was, Halsin would be too concerned about somehow crushing you down with his weight so you wouldn't be carrying him for long.

After a few shared laughs, he’d be the one to politely request to be let down. Softly asking if you are okay and hoping that carrying him wasn't too tiring.

Nevertheless, he’s enamored by your display of strength and the new experience truly did make his heart skip a beat. Now there's yet another peculiar thing about you he’d add to his reasons for adoring you.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen) (Ch. 3)

Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader

Words: 2.8k+

Warning(s): Two gross dudes, sexual verbal harassment (not towards reader), swearing,

A/N: omg chapter 3 is finally here. I apologize for the wait. I thought my semester this time around would be forgiving but NOPE. I had so much to do and read, I could hardly write for fun or draw either. I hadn't realized how long it had been since I last posted. I want to try a new method when writing series. I tried with my kpop writing blog, and its where I write a few chapters at a time then periodically post them. Helps keep the flow and motivation going, but that may have been a one off there.

Series Masterlist

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"O star of strength! I see thee stand And smile upon my pain; Thou beckonest with thy mailèd hand, And I am strong again... The Star of the unconquered will, He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still, And calm, and self-possessed. -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "The Light of Stars"

-------

Edward hasn't been in school for the past few days.

You admittedly felt a little lonely without his presence, though Emmett and Alice have made it their mission to become your new best friends. Jasper tried but he still kept his distance from you, which you didn't mind. Rosalie helped when no other Cullen was around, although she kept a lot of conversations at a minimum, which you also didn't mind.

Alice had told you Edward had gotten a bad cold, so he is staying home. You had offered to bring him your notes the first time so he could copy them down, but Alice told you their father has him basically on lock down until he is deemed healthy. So, after you've done your homework, you've been making copies of your notes to give him when he comes back.

It's the start of a new day and once again, Edward wasn't there. You were at your locker with 15 minutes to spare. You placed the spare folder with Edward's notes on the shelf while your mind went back to that moment you two shared at the welcoming party for your uncle. You felt happy telling him all the stars and constellation you could see, and even happier when he seemed thoroughly interested in your rambles. However, you feel an inkling of guilt when you remember he gave you his jacket. Maybe he got sick from that?

"Dude, I got this weird spot on my dick."

Well, there goes your musings of guilt. You glance to your left and see two guys near you, just chilling against the lockers. You've never met them, though you do remember sharing a class or two with them separately.

"Are you really airing your business out when someone is standing right their?" The shorter one, with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes gestures to you.

"Relax, Mark. That's the deaf student." The taller one with deep brown eyes and brown hair says with a laugh. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes and choose to just focus on the inside of your locker. Maybe you should get more decorations- "Anyways, I have this weird spot on my dick. It almost looks like I have a weird mole there. I'm hoping it's just a new mole and Cindy didn't give me something."

Gross.

"I'd get that shit checked out then. You don't want it to turn into something worse if it is an STD." Mark says with a sigh. "I told you not to sleep with her, Tony. She made my balls itch like crazy. They still fucking itch."

"I think its just a weird mole. You wanna look?" He cackles while his friend fake gags. They both push off the lockers and walk away to who knows where.

You let out a deep sigh and close your locker. At least the ignorance of other allows you to hear some gossip.

"What's with the sigh, Tiny?" Emmett calls out as he and Rosalie approach you. He has very quickly taken to the nickname Tiny for you. You suppose anyone shorter than him would be considered tiny in his eyes. Rosalie simply opened her locker as you and Emmett conversed.

"Oh, just overheard two people talking about something that should have been a private conversation." You respond with a slight shrug.

"Gah, Forks High is full of a bunch of weirdos, huh?" He grins and raises his brows a few times, crossing his arms while leaning on the locker next to you. You silently chuckle and nod, though you wondered if there was an underlying joke there.

"No Edward today?"

"Nope. Carlisle still hasn't cleared him." He sighs with a sympathetic smile. "Between you and me, Tiny, Edward is still shitting his brains out." He signed that last portion to you.

You gave him a scandalized look and playfully slapped his arm with a small chuckle. You were surprised to feel just how hard his muscles were.

"What was that for?" He gripped where you slapped and pretended to be hurt. "It was a private conversation, no one else here except Rosalie knows sign."

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile. You could always count on Emmett to get you to smile.

"C'mon, Rose and I will walk you to first period, like always." He grins and gestures you to follow him. Rose simply came along since she and Em were in the class next to yours. You nod and follow, happy to have good company.

---

It was a passing period and it was just you and Rose at your lockers. You grabbed a new pen and pencil since the last two you had broke and ran out of ink. Rosalie was fluffing up her already perfect, blond hair in the mirror of her locker. She and you didn't converse much, but you still liked her presence. Like the rest of the Cullens, she didn't tiptoe around you or treated you differently. She acknowledged your presence and would answer you if you had questions.

You were about finished in your locker when you heard two familiar voices keep up their gross conversations behind you.

"Dude, Rosalie has the hottest ass." Tony practically jeers, his voice intentionally loud. You glance to the blond next to you and she still keeps fixing her hair, though you can see her brows are a little more furrowed and her lips are more in the shape of a frown.

"Her tits, man, her tits are where it's at." Replies Mark and when you shift just enough to see him in the corner of your eyes, you see him make an obscene gesture.

You hear the slight creek of metal and when you look to Rose, you see her grip is so tight on her locker door that her fingers made indents which made your eyes widen for a moment. She closes her locker and you can see by her side profile she is pissed, and rightfully so.

So, you do what you think would make her laugh at the expense of those two guys.

You tap her arm to get her attention and she looks at you with a glare. You don't let it faze you. If those two are going to be gross about your friend, you'll just air out their business that they so willingly aired out by you this morning.

"You know those two jackasses?" You intentionally look to them as you sign and look back at her. "Well the brown haired one has a spot on his penis that he isn't sure if it's a mole or an STD. And his buddy likely doesn't wash right since he's had prolonged itchy balls."

Rosalie looks almost scandalized until her eyes widen for a moment as she looks at the two dudes and then back to you. She covers her mouth as she laughs when she realizes what you're trying to do.

You were about to sign some more when the two dumbasses approach.

"I know you were talking shit. What the fuck did you sign?" Tony glared, pointing an accusatory finger at you. He gets in your face and you swear you hear Rosalie growl.

You swallow thickly and decide to open your mouth. Your aunt always said you got your stubbornness from your mom.

"I said..." You try not to wince at the pain in your throat, your voice sounding hoarse. "You had a weird spot on your dick and your friend... has itchy balls." They looked at you with wide, horrified looks. "Don't talk about someone's body if you don't want yours talked about either."

"You little shit." Mark hisses and Rose steps closer to your side, an arm just barely in front of yours.

"What's going on here?" Emmetts voice grows louder as he approaches, his usual, carefree smile no longer on his face. He looked scarier than you've ever seen him. Mark and Tony looked at each other before slinking off.

Once they were gone you let out a dry, painful cough. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and quickly grab your water and drink, soothing your throat. You could taste a tiny bit of iron in the back of your throat as you drank.

Rosalie calls your name softly. "Are you okay?"

You nod in response and take another sip of water. You didn't catch the look they gave each other or Rose gesturing for Emmett to speak.

"What happened, Tiny?" He asks in a quiet tone. You close the cap of your bottle and place it back in your bag. Your throat still ached but you knew the pain from using your larynx will linger.

You start to sign to him everything that occurred, from what you overheard in the morning to him approaching. You can see a flash of anger on his face but he goes back to that small smile. Once you explained your words to Rose and why you said them, a huge grin breaks out on his face.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Tiny." He laughs and pats your shoulder a little too firmly.

"Come, I'll walk you to class." Rosalie said with a soft tone. You nod and wave goodbye  to Emmett. You both start heading down the hallway, the blond next to you tense.

When you got to your class a pale hand stopped you. You look to Rose with a questioning look while her gold eyes avoid yours.

"I just wanted to say thank you for earlier." Rosalie says, the tense look she had fades into a small smile, her eyes meeting yours. You see some vulnerability in her usually guarded gaze. She gives your shoulder a squeeze before dropping her hand. "You didn't have to do that. I'm... admittedly used to that."

"No need to thank me, Rosalie." You smile back at her.

"I do, because not many would step up like that." She softly sighs and her smile grows a bit. You felt her words had more meaning to them, but you decided to not linger on them for now. "I know I've been slightly avoiding you but I have a hard time trusting hu- new people. But, after today, I think I want to open up a bit and be friends."

"I'd like that too." You beam. "Alice has been begging me to do a shopping trip, maybe the three of us can plan a trip soon."

"I'd... I'd like that." She almost looks like she is relieved and less guarded.

"Is your hand okay?"

"What?"

"Well, I saw you grip your locker and you dented it."

"Oh. Yeah, it's fine. I work on cars and my grip is strong. It's nothing." She holds out her hands and you saw just flawless skin. "Well, I will see you soon. Class is starting."

"Talk to you later." You wave and go to class. You sit down at your usual spot and start preparing. You sigh, irritated at the way those two spoke about Rose so loudly. But you also felt happy you and Rose were close now. Her bending the locker was suspicious... there were many things off with the Cullens that you've picked up, however, you don't linger on it. They have their quirks much like you have your own.

---

Edward lounged on the couch reading, back from his trip up to the Denali clan to clear his head. After witnessing that nightmare from you, he needed a moment alone to sort his thoughts. He wasn't sure what he felt afterwards but once he took some time to sort out his thoughts, he came back to Forks. None of the others knew what happened. He didn't tell them those details of your life, as none of them were privy to it. He wasn't either but that bridge has been crossed thanks to his ability and curiosity of the galaxy protecting your mind.

He felt guilt initially when he realized he deeply invaded your privacy. Then, despair and immense sadness followed when he recalls back to your nightmare, your past. Edward had seen many horrors in his long life, he even committed some when he'd hunt those men. However when he witnessed what you went through, he couldn't help feel a spark of protectiveness. You were nice. He found you a joy to be around despite it not being long since you transferred. He doesn't want anything bad to happen to you.

Edward couldn't help but smile when he thought back to you and him outside the fire station. It was a peaceful moment. He couldn't help but linger on the sight of you in his jacket, pointing out the stars and constellations. It was silent other than your internal thoughts. And when he got to witness your galaxy so at peace? He also felt a sense of tranquility he longs for.

Edward quickly put those thoughts away and resumed his attention his book when he heard his adoptive siblings come in. Alice and Jasper pass without saying to him, which he was slightly thankful for. However, Emmett and Rosalie lingered by him.

"How can I help you both?" Edward sighs, snapping the book closed as he looks at both of them.

Rose crosses her arms. "You need to come back tomorrow."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, Tiny happened." Emmett grinned and gestured to Rosalie. The blond sighed and let the memory replay of you standing up for her so Edward can see what happened today. He furrows his brows, setting his book down. He stands up from the couch and looks between the two.

"My guess is those two will probably retaliate against our friend one way or another." Rosalie says softly. Edward chooses not to point out how she said 'our friend.' "You spend the most time with them, they'll need you to stick around them the most."

Edward nods slowly. He recognizes Mark and Tony, and he knows they each have a class with him and you. He's heard the thoughts that spew from them both like garbage and he knows they aren't above getting back at someone.

"I'll come back tomorrow." He confirms. He wanted one more day to himself, but tomorrow is good as ever to face you again. He knows how you lost your voice and how you ended up living with your uncle and aunt now, but you don't know he knows. And he'll have to keep that in mind.

Although, Edward couldn't help but smile at the sound of your voice in Rosalie's memory. It was rough and hoarse, and it caused you pain, pain he doesn't want you feeling again... but it was nice hearing that voice that matches to the one in your head... when that space of yours is dropped.

---

You make your way to your locker first thing in the morning. You get yourself situated, grabbing the things you need for your classes before lunch. You set aside the folder where you kept your copies of notes for Edward down on the small shelf. You huff softly, throat still feeling sore from using your voice.

A familiar voice calling your name has you spinning around quickly, a smile instantly growing on your face. Edward approaches you with a small smile, looking the same as he did the last time you saw him.

"Glad to see you're feeling better." You grin, your mind flashing back to what Emmett signed to you in regards to Edward's health. You catch your friend's eyebrow twitch, a flash of annoyance on his face that he quickly recovered.

A Cullen quirk, you muse to yourself.

"Yeah. I'm doing a lot better now." He replies softly, standing  a little closer to you than usual.

"I have something for you." You see his eyebrow quirk as you turn back to your locker. You pull out the black folder and hand him it. "Notes for the classes we share."

Edward stares down at the folder before chuckling. He looks up at you and gives you brilliant smile, one that makes your heart flutter for just a moment. "Thank you, I really appreciate it."

"Of course."

Suddenly, you feel hand on your back. Edward was standing much closer to you with an expression akin to a scowl as he stares off a little. He looks to you and smiles softly, though you can still see the tension on his face.

"We should get to the classroom. I'll probably have questions about what I missed." He says in a low voice. You nod, a little confused by his demeanor. You finish up with your locker and let him guide through the hallway, his cold hand still resting on the middle of your back.

You weren't aware of Tony's and Mark's presences until you both were walking by them to your first period classroom. You paid them no mind, keeping your focus ahead of you. Doing this, however, has you missing the deep and threatening glare from Edward towards the both of them.

As you both walked through the hallway, Edward felt that his non-existent blood boiling at the degrading, violent, and nasty thoughts those two were thinking. He knew they both weren't the best that Forks has to offer, their thoughts sometimes louder than others.

That protective urge he felt after witnessing your nightmare? It's working overtime now and he isn't completely sure why.

What Edward does know that he won't let them try anything towards you.

------

Taglist: @buckybarnes-1917​, @trawberry-fire​ , @dreamy-caramel​, @urgirlfriendspage @azazel-nyx @stinkii-boii @vanessalovesonedirection @sunnyisntthere @theatrenerd101601 @awesomebooklover17 @esposadomd @whichwitchisthebitch @bofadeezs @gons-dad-is-gon-e @kathsuhki @aoi-targaryen @srh-006 @onlyheretosimp

[stardustluvs]

hi, me again... I'm sorry but I need Nolan (I fell in love with your writing, please don't be mad at me)

I have one more idea for Nolan.

Let's go..... Nolan is participating in a video and has to win the challenge. But he gets hurt (nothing too bad) after getting hurt he keeps begging them to call his girlfriend, he needs her by his side

kiss it better || n.h.

Word Count:

Pairing: Nolan Hansen x fem!Reader

Summary: What the req says

Warnings: Slight injury(?), Mention of blood (not a lot)

Author’s Note: Changing up how I’m styling the title of my fics slightly! I wrote this instead of sleeping. Also, thank you anon for the request! I appreciate you! Also most of my fics are set in the older style of MrBeast videos as opposed to the newer ones just because I miss when it was his friends competing instead of random people LOL Also I know I haven’t posted a fic in two weeks, shhh…

Requests are open! || masterlist

Everything was going smoothly, he’d spent a lof of time in preparation for this upcoming video, a challenge whereas to win, a sort obstacle course race must be completed. Nolan completely understood the challenge he was faced with, though he may have underestimated the difficulty of it.

Upon looking at the race in person, he could see it would give him a plethora of challenges and problems. It also looked overwhelming, slightly dangerous. Jimmy spent a lot of time already reassuring him and the rest of their friends it would be fine and if God forbid something did happen, they'd be able to safely resolve the issue.

You would've gone to watch Nolan compete, you normally did, except this time you had plans that you needed to get done, having put them off for months now. You could easily expect a few updates from Nolan throughout the day though, he was constantly checking in.

The first part of the course was easy. He just had to not fall and get to the other side. Among him and his friends, everyone was able to make it easily, a few sly remarks from Kris and Karl, but Nolan knew it was all in good fun.

The second part seemed much more terrifying than the first, it looked harder too.

This course was longer, and it consisted of having to run, dodge, and balance at multiple areas.

He didn't get a lot of time to process what he had been looking at when Jimmy called out saying it was time to go.

He started out strong, actually, he was quite far in the lead compared to the rest of the group.

Karl was a close second, calling out to him and making joking banter towards Nolan. That was however, when things started to take a turn for the worst.

Nolan's foot caught against a bit of the course where the ground came up, causing him to trip. At first glance you'd assume he'd have been able to get up and carry on, no big deal. However as he fell, his knee scraped one of the nearby obstacles, sharp enough to break skin, even through the material of his pants.

Immediately he sat up, clutching his knee. He held back curse words and bit down on his lip to try to mask the pain.

Karl saw him first and immediately rushed over towards him.

"Woah- Hey, are you okay?" Karl urged.

Nolan just shook his head, moving his hands to see how bad the cut was. It wasn't so deep he would need immediate medical attention, however it was deep enough to form a nasty cut, and draw a decent amount of blood.

"Jimmy- Hey we need to stop, Nolan's hurt," Karl called over.

Jimmy wasted no time on listening to Karl, putting everything about the video on the back burner. He rushed over to where Nolan was sat on the ground. A few people from around set had rushed over with first aid supplies, being more than prepared for the incident.

"Can someone call Y/N?" Nolan asked to no one in particular. He allowed the people who rushed over to help clean up his knee, wincing a little at the pain from all the movement.

"Yeah- yeah, I'll give Y/N a call," Kris reassured, pulling out her phone and moving quickly to get to her contacts list.

Meanwhile, you had been sat in your car, parked in front of the grocery store. You had been scrolling through your phone momentarily before getting a call from... Kris?

It was odd, and you wondered why she would be calling if she was meant to be filming with everyone right now.

You answered, a little worried and concerned.

"Hello?" You asked as you pressed the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Y/N, can you come to the set right now?"

"Uhm, I'm a little busy, why? Is everything okay?" You asked, concern filling your voice more and more as you wondered what the issue was.

"Nolan's hurt- He's okay, he didn't like break anything or anything like that, but he fell, and his knee's kind of fucked up now," Kris explained, hurrying to tell you that he was okay, knowing you would worry.

"He asked for someone to call you," She added.

"Okay, oh my God, thanks Kris, I'm on my way," You said, ending the call and putting your phone away.

You sighed, knowing that it was probably going to be okay, you reminded yourself that Kris told you Nolan didn’t break anything and was okay except for the fact he got hurt. You were about fifteen minutes out from where the set was, and you could only do so much to get there quickly with all the traffic.

Back at the shoot, a medical team continued to try and get the bleeding to stop. It was slowing down…slowly, and it hurt like hell.

“Did you call Y/N?” He asked Kris when he saw her show back up beside him.

“Yeah, she’s coming,” She replied.

The reassurance that fell over his body at the news you were on your way was visible to anyone who paid attention. It was no secret that he was extremely dependent on you, and that was fine, it wasn’t like you minded him clinging to you any time something happened. It was cute.

When you got there, the first person you saw was Jimmy, who greeted you and was immediately guiding you over to where Nolan was.

It looked…worse than what you imagined in your head, which made you panic slightly, seeing all these medical professionals around your boyfriend. It seemed excessive.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked him, sitting down beside him.

Immediately he pulled you into a hug, wincing slightly when he had to move his leg.

“What happened?” You asked him.

“I fell, cut my knee pretty bad,” He replied.

“We’ll go home as soon as they’re done, okay?”

He was about to object, saying he wanted to continue the video, but before he could, his friends all seemed to agree that was for the best.

You waited with him, allowing him to rest his head against yours while the medical team seemed to finally be finishing up after what felt like ages.

They explained that he may have a bit of a difficulty walking since the cut was pretty nasty, but it should heal up in no time, which you thanked God for.

“Ready?” You asked him, starting to stand up as you reached your hand down to help him up.

He nodded, grabbing your hand. You helped him up the best you could. He inhaled sharply at the slight pressure being put onto his knee.

You allowed him to use you to lean on and help balance, saying goodbye to everyone and getting to your car.

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” He thanked you.

You shook your head, “Why are you thanking me for that?”

“Because I know you were busy today is all,” He said, shrugging a little.

“Never busy if you’re hurt,” You smiled softly, leaning over and kissing him gently.

[snippychicke]

It's just Business --Six: Cleaning

I should just spam post these. The fic is done, but I keep forgetting to post.

AO3 | Master post

Sanji was lost in thought as he cleaned the galley after breakfast. Granted, there wasn't much. Zeff had drilled it into him to clean as he went. He did more out of habit, as well as allowing himself the time to think.

He was overjoyed that you had joined the Straw Hat crew despite your obvious hesitancy. Leaving Baratie and Zeff was one thing-- it was hard but also freeing. Like a bird leaving the nest once it was fully fledged, and taking flight to find its own way in life. 

But leaving you? That hadn't sat so well in his chest. Despite not actually being in his day-to-day life, you were still a constant. He had counted the days passing on the Baratie by how many more until you returned. 

The mere idea of not seeing you for who-knew-how-long had terrified him. Never seeing your smile again, or being able to wrap you in his arms tight and feeling you all but melt against him as you squeezed him back? It would be a nightmare. 

Thank the gods you decided to follow. He had been over the moon when you conceded; you and him, finding the All Blue. Together, just as he often dreamt. 

He hadn't really given much thought as to why you caved despite your initial reluctance. But after last night…

-*-

"So why are you flirting so much with Nami when you already have a girlfriend?"

Everyone in the men's quarters froze at Usopp's sudden question. Sanji was convinced he had misheard him, which - considering they were all getting ready for bed - was understandable, and asked: "I'm sorry, what?"

Usopp fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with everyone's attention now on him and the tense feeling in the air. "I mean, you've been flirting with Nami kinda hard. Like, full-on heart eyes whenever our navigator is even mentioned. So do you and our new helmsman-slash-bookeep have like, and open relationship, or…" 

Sanji laughed despite the uncomfortable feeling of his face growing warm. "God no, nothing like that. We're just close friends is all." 

The silence didn't ease any, and all three men were staring at him now. "What?" Sanji finally asked. "Do you have a problem with that?" 

"Just the fact it's bullshit," Zoro muttered, one eye opened from his own hammock. 

Sanji crossed his arms. "Well I wouldn't expect you to know much about having friends." 

"Nah. Zoro's right," Luffy added. "You two are closer than friends." 

He was definitely blushing by now, and the urge for a cigarette was itching at him. "I assure you, we are not. There is nothing romantic between us." 

Which, that was a half-truth. He couldn't deny the fact he was still in love with you, at least not to himself. He was convinced no matter what, he was always going to love you. But you had made it clear you weren't interested in him that way, and he'd respect that. 

"Like I said, bullshit." 

-*-

Why had you decided to change your mind? Was it simply that the bonds of friendship were that strong, and you were already wavering that his request had broken your resolve?

Sanji had given up on you returning his feelings years ago. He had flung himself into trying to find those same emotions in other women in an attempt to cover up the ache from the realization no matter what he did, you never believed he was being serious. 

That plan had worked - for the most part - back at the restaurant. It had only ached a little bit when you and him would steal a bottle of wine and escaped to the back deck to catch up. To hear your laughter echo across the night, cheeks darkened from the alcohol. Or the fact you would end up cuddled to his side after a few drinks, desperate for human touch after being by yourself for such long periods of time. He couldn't help but indulge in the chance. Arm slung over your shoulder, dreaming of what-ifs and maybes as you would both lapse into companionable silence. Pressing a kiss to your forehead when he could tell you were on the verge of sleep before gently encouraging you to bed. 

And now he was going to be around you everyday; hearing that laugh, seeing that smile... Nami was a beautiful woman, but she had nothing on the way your face lit up with delight as you bantered back and forth. How you literally would try to bite back a smile while pretending to be upset. 

How was he supposed to keep his heart contained? If the rest of the crew already thought you were romantically involved, surely you would catch on as well. That the indulgent touches, his pet names, all of it wasn’t as platonic as you believed.

Would there be that disgust in your expression like when you caught him flirting with others--Nami included? Would you be angry? Or would you laugh in his face before pity overcame your expression and you told him you would never feel that way for him? 

Could he even dare to hope that maybe, despite everything, you’d blush shyly and smile at him? Or-- more likely-- smack his arm while burying your face against him as you were prone to do when embarrassed. 

God, if only.

Sanji was pulled out of his thoughts as the door opened and you wandered in, face reddened by the sun and wind. "Damn, you've really been busy. I expected at least a few of Luffy's dishes left." 

Sanji smiled as he threw the dish towel over his shoulders before leaning against the island separating you. "It's easy to clean when he doesn't leave anything but crumbs. Were you going to come help, or do you have something else on your mind?"

You shrugged your shoulders as you leaned against the island as well, mimicking his pose. "Mmm, sorta? Mostly just missing the covered helm of my ship, to be honest. I'm going to be sunburnt as hell, but also I just wanted to come bother you." Your smile grew as you winked. "Just think, I get to be a pain in your ass all the time now." 

That damned smile of yours was going to be the death of him, yet at the same time he knew he'd die a happy man. "How ever am I going to survive the horror of being stuck on a ship with two lovely women as well as being the boss of my own kitchen?" He teased back, delighted as your face turned darker yet and you looked away. 

"You dork," You scoffed. "You would be in seventh-heaven right now. I can't believe we're heading to the freaking Grand Line. As pirates. My parents are probably swearing up a storm right now." 

Sanji chuckled as he turned to start making you something to help cool you down. "I'm still surprised you agreed. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy as well, just surprised." 

"Yeah, well, I seemed to recall saying something about you being stuck with me forever." 

His smile grew as he remembered that promise-- shortly after your parent's death as you decided to continue their work. He knew you had no interest in working the Baratie; you weren't one to stay in one place for long, nor were you fond of the large crowds. 

He had been so worried it meant he would never see you again --that you would sail away one last time, never to return. He hadn't been able to keep himself from pulling you against him tight, mentally thanking every deity yet again when you decided to keep your parent's transport route. 

"And I said you'd never be alone." Sanji poured the ice drink into a glass and handed it to you, smiling softly as you met his gaze. He meant it back then, as well as now. Even if it ended up killing him. 

》°《

One of the cooks had left out a bottle of Brandy. And well, Sanji had been assigned to clean up for the night, and you had decided to ‘keep him company.’ 

Teenagers did stupid things, and neither of you were immune to that fact. 

The kitchen was roughly cleaned, though Sanji could admit he spent more time talking with you, leaning against the same counter you sat on - especially once he mastered mixing up Brandy Alexanders. The more the late hours wore on, the more Sanji was entranced with you. Watching your eyes catch the light from the overhead lamps, or run your tongue along your lips to catch a bit of the creme from your drink. 

Sanji would be willing to argue you had started things first; when you leaned forward so you could play with his hair, your fingers stroking his cheek softly... He wasn't sure what enticed you, but held still as if afraid moving would scare you away. 

Yet when you finally met his gaze, cheeks flushed as you bit your lower lip, Sanji couldn’t help himself. He leaned closer, one arm braced on either side of your hips before brushing his lips against yours. He could taste the chocolate still on your lips, making him sigh as he pulled away.

Your hand wrapped around his tie, stopping him. There was a challenging glint in your eye as you pulled him close for another kiss. 

Sanji swore he had died and gone to heaven as he indulged himself. Kissing you properly like he had always dreamed about, tasting the remnants of drink on your lips along with your own natural taste - that was better than any meal he had tasted. His hands moved to your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh lightly as he pulled you closer, so tempted to see if he could convince you to part them so he could step closer still; to have those strong legs wrap around his waist, to press his hips against yours…

Except before he could push his luck, you pulled away, gasping for breath. “Wait. Stop.”

He groaned, but rested his forehead against yours as he placed his hands back on the counter. “What’s wrong?” He asked, though silently swore to himself that if you hinted he was a bad kisser again…

“It’s just… too much,” You whispered. “We-we’ve had too much to drink. This isn’t us.” 

Sanji leaned back, his eyes meeting yours. He wanted to confess that this was exactly what he had always wanted - that this was what he wanted as much as finding the All Blue. But even in the haze of bliss and brandy, he could see the hesitancy - the fear - in your eyes, and it cut him straight to the core. 

He gripped the edge of the counter tightly as he forced a smile. “As my lady wishes.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before stepping back, offering a hand as you slid down from the counter. “Do you want me to walk you back to your ship?” 

You shook your head, face flushed. “No. But… thank you.” 

Watching you walk away was like cutting his own heart out, but he stood strong as he shoved his hands in his pocket. 

[chesters-ocs]

couldn't help myself. continuation of the previous 2 posts. a little sorta day in the life. something about the mundane is so fun to write

wc: 852

@the-whispers-of-death pspsps im taking this au and running with it lol

It had been a number of days since Sylvester met his soulmate, which then caused a crash of panic onto him after him and Mārīte got back home.

Ever the curious little thing, his daughter all but demanded to have everything explained, and it was then that he silently cursed himself for never bothering to even tell her about something as simple and universal as a soulmate.

At least it seemed she was majorly interested, her eyes sparkling as she clung to his every word… How naive, he thought, before waving that thought away, not wanting to berate a child for being that: a child, and not understanding the world yet.

Without any further interference from his soulmate, he couldn't help but believe he made a horrific first impression. He won't blame the man, however. His mind was practically mush, and there's precious few who are willing to date someone with children from previous relationships…

As if you can even call it that, it was a glorified fling at best, and destructive at worst… Usually the worst, actually, now that he thought about it in hindsight.

No matter though… With complete radio silence from the stranger, he fell back into his usual routine. Mārīte's at school, and he's on his lunch break at some nameless company he'll forget about a few years from now. Though he supposes there is one good thing about it. Location's pretty good: central London makes it easy to find a grocery store or a bakery. Easy enough that he decided to walk, despite the rain. It's nothing worrying, given the compact umbrella in his backpack.

Sylvester steps out into the street with an expression as neutral as ever, as the man brings up and opens the umbrella. It's a simple, black thing, made of cheap material, but it gets the job done. That's all he needs. And so he trudges down main street, keeping an eye out for anything interesting.

Shops seemed to come and go constantly, rent always rising and sinking at the heart of the city. If he wasn't used to it, he would probably be overwhelmed by the size and quantity. Boutiques here, office buildings there, little family owned businesses sandwiched between both.

And speaking of family owned.. a new bakery had opened nearby, Sylvester noted. There's a couple balloons by the entrance, and the signs say there's an opening week sale. Not thinking too much, he crosses the street over to it, and pushes open the door, and unequipped his raggedy umbrella.

The place is small, but cozy. There's plenty of pastries and snacks-to-go on the display by the cash register, and the young woman in the apron greets him cheerfully.

After a second of taking the place in, the man nods, saying his own greetings. But he doesn't even spare a glance at her name tag, instead looking over the fresh goods, as well as the coffee menu.

"… Hello. Can I have a large latte to-go, as well as the chicken sandwich?"

"Of course, cash or card?"

"Card, please."

He's met with a nod, as the worker punches in the prices, and the total appears on the small card reader. He enters the pin the moment the woman turns around to work the coffee machine. A beep confirms his payment, the check already getting printed.

Within a few moments, he's out, small paper bag in tow. In the few minutes he was inside, the rain had worsened. At least the wind isn't strong today, he thought. That's one thing he didn't miss about his home: the rain tended to come with strong winds, and it did not help his hometown was a coastal one. He was used to trashing umbrellas just after a few uses due to that…

Nevertheless, he still had time to return to his office building, and sit down at his desk there. He carefully unwraps the sandwich and places the paper cup on a coaster, when he gets the urge to check his phone.

Lucky that he did too. A new message, sent moments after he left to buy lunch. He almost groaned, noticing how he forgot to turn on the volume: a nasty habit of his to do.

He swipes to check the notification, not even blinking at the unknown number. The man figured this is just another client needing a quick job.

"Hello, is this Sylvester?"

At least the message was a simple one too. A few taps later, he sends a response, before shutting off the device.

"Yes it is."

A shame he didn't notice how the person on the other side already started typing, as he snacked on his lunch. The taste is a pleasant surprise, and in the moment, he figures he'll have to go there more often. Maybe bring Mārīte there too… She'd probably like the cakes, he muses.

However, he still didn't turn up his volume, already getting distracted by office work, so it's only when he gets back home with his kid, that he'll properly see the barrage of new unread texts. Someone claiming to know his mystery-man soulmate.

[saints-helen]

(okay so quick context, medieval au where blue used to be nightmare and dream's personal knight after the queen Nim died, and for ~plot reasons~ I haven't posted yet they got separated and the twins are princes no more. Blue started guarding the twins when they were 4 and him 20, he left them when he was 22 and them 6, and they got reunited again when he was 32 and them 16 (although we haven't seen dream make an appearance yet~)

(Nightmare is laying his head on Blue's lap here btw)

So, context (most of it anyway) done, enjoy!)

-----------

".... you know.."

"?"

"Do you remember? back when you were small and you couldn't sleep?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what I used to do, then?" He smiles as he asks, and Nightmare carefully keeps his expression level, calm, unbothered.

"No." He says, like a liar, as if he could ever forget, as if he could ever let go of the only person who looked at him and saw Him, instead of whatever he could be used for, instead of whatever he could ruin just by existing. As if he didn't cling to the very memory of the man, body ripping apart, screaming as if he didn't immediately feel the urge, no matter how long it had been, to call out to him, to sob to him as if he were there when his body was crumbling in on itself and building itself anew and just begging him to make it better, please, just make it all better.

He stares at Blue as his smile softens a bit, eyes cast down to his face to shield from the light of the fire that graces Nightmare's back. (he can barely even feel it)

"What did you use to do?" he asks, as if every single interaction they've ever had in those two short, far too short years together didn't immediately jump into his mind, begging to invade it constantly with the Aching memories of someone who Cared.

Cares.

He still cares.

"Well, you Were very small.. and it Was a long time ago.." he recalls, eyes squinting either from the light or from his smile. Nightmare didn't care to know, never cared to know why Blue did the things he did lest he not like the answer.

"When you were just a baby, you and your brother, the queen would let me into your room sometimes to play with you, or rock you or just to help you sleep." He explained, fondess dripping from his voice and Nightmare fought off the nausea it brought him it was so Strong. Still Reeking of love as if it happened only yesterday. Emotions tended to dilute over time, positive ones especially, but not with Blue, not him.

They only seemed to get Stronger.

"One time, when you were being particularly fussy, she handed you to me, and I was so worried about messing up and making it worse that I kept refusing, but she insisted. But.. once you were in my arms.." His hand settles on Nightmare's head, and Nightmare focuses all he has on the pressure of it against the corruption, trying to feel it through it as much as he can.

"It felt as if I just.. forgot. Like I was somewhere else for a moment. I forgot that you were a prince, and I forgot that I was a mere squire, holding the queen's tiny son in my hands. For a moment it just.. it was just you and me, it seemed. Just me, and the crying little baby in my arms." His thumb strokes his skull, and Nightmare fights back the urge to close his eyes at the feeling.

"You poor thing, you were getting so Tired from crying but you just wouldn't relent. I tried to rock you, to coo over you to sing, none of it worked. Your little baby voice was getting hoarse." He laughs, quiet and fond and Disgusting. "Babies can be so Stubborn, You especially, Night. But I didn't look at the queen all helpless, nor did she ask, she just.. she was just watching, I think." He shifted where he sat and Nightmare held his breath, only letting it out shakily when he wasn't let go of.

"I think she was testing me, checking the see if I'd be a good knight or something, I hope I passed, she had very high standards." He chuckles. "So since you refused to stop crying, and your little face was getting all purple from the effort of it, I did the only thing i could think of." He ghosts his hand down infront of his eye, and Nightmare does his best to stay very, very still.

"I did this.." He holds the side of Nightmare's head in one hand, and the familiarity of it almost makes him choke, the embarrassing amount of yearning he feels almost sickens him, almost makes him gag, bile rising in the back of his throat but he swallows it back. Blue draws his thumb along the bridge of his nose, and all at once Nightmare feels like he's going to Die.

"It calmed you down almost immediately, I was so happy when it worked, she was too. All the while your brother was sleeping soundly through the whole thing." He doesn't stop, the pad of his gloved hand so soft against his bone, and Nightmare squeezes his ankle with a tendril so tightly he feels it'll break, all to stop from shaking.

"You were out like a candle. I used to do it with my little brother as a baby, and it seems you two are very similar." He feels a pang of jealousy, and the humiliating thought of wanting only Blue's attention on him and him Alone passes through his head before he squashes it down in horror. For fuck's sake he's been a twin all his life, and he starts getting jealous Now? "That's where I got the idea to do it." He continued, unaware of the mortification Nightmare is feeling at his own thoughts. He's not even his fucking kid, at least Blue's brother and him are related, he's not related to- to anyone, not anymore, not after what he's become. He's never belonged to anyone less, and Blue may believe he's the same person still, still pampering him and loving on him and stroking his nose as if he's that same child he used to guard but he Isn't.

He isn't, and he never will be again. And all the proof he needs of this fact is the way he Refuses to tell Blue that, refuses to break this fragile illusion that he's still someone worth caring for, someone worth calling a stupid nickname like "Night", shortening the horror he is to something Beautiful and Loved.

He's Disgusted with himself, disgusted with the fact he's lying to and manipulating the only person who ever even gave a single Damn about him, all because he's too selfish for the slivers of affection he gets from him, all because that when he's with him, for one single moment Nightmare can just forget what he is and pretend he's still worthy of something Good. He doesn't tell him, he never Will tell him, he'll just wait until Blue, smart as he is, realises he's being lied to and leaves on his own.

..God, nightmare is so Selfish, and no matter how hard he tries he just can't Stop, can't pull away, can't resist, the pull of the stars too strong for the blackhole he is, sucking in everything that is right and good and leaving nothing behind, but he'll never be full. God it's never Enough.

So he just.. forces a response through his hoarse throat.

"I see." He says, as if he isn't putting active effort into not crying right now. Blue hasn't even Stopped.

"It still worked, when you were four til six, you'd go to sleep immediately. Surely you remember that?"

He doesn't respond, doesn't think he can without his voice cracking.

"Well, no matter. it still works now it seems." He says, and Nightmare can Feel the emotions radiating off of him, emotions relating to Him, the corpse on his lap, and he clenches his fist so hard he feels shards of bone Crack, breaking even smaller.

".. Nightmare?"

"I Can't."

He shoves himself off, love love love marinating the air with an aftertaste of worry and God can he not ruin anything for once?

He holds himself up by the arms, shoulders hunched and shaking as he bites back the sob in his throat, tear droplets, with an inner reflection of teal, drop onto the dead leaves beneath him, corroding them and curling them up in rotting black almost immediately.

God, God, everything be does brings Ruin.

"What's wrong, Night?" Blue asks, Nightmare's hand coming up to rub at his face.

He never wanted to hurt anyone.

He never wanted to hurt Anything. He doesn't want to hurt the very small sliver of good in this world he has left. "I'm not- I Can't." He chokes out, and it sounds like begging, because it Is. "I can't just Keep- I can't- I'm not h- it's not Me-" he sobs out, all wet and disgusting, as if he had the Right.

"Bot me anymore you're talking about and I try- I try so hard but I'm not- I'm Not- I'm not anymore and i can't be again because I've already ruined this beyond repair." He holds up his hands to speak, as if pleading his case again to his mother's court that no, god, he didn't mean to, please he never meant to, he'd never do anything to jeopardize his brother but they just wouldn't Listen.

But now, he refuses to plead innocent, begging the innocent judge on his Knees to sentence him to death like he deserves, lock him up in a tower, just Anything but look at him like That.

"I can't be God I can't be him I can't get better so just stop trying to make me better stop- Thinking that I can be anything but- but-" he can't bring himself to finish it, his rambling cut short by gasping breath and the sizzling sound of tears dropping below him.

He shifts his knees to catch them. He doesn't want to Kill.

"I can't I can't I can't I can't-" he begs "I can't be what you want me to be I can't be your Son anymore I Can't, I just Can't." He clutches at his chest, his one good eye too blurry and bad to make out the expression on Blue's face.

He blocks out his emotions though, he doesn't want to know what he's feeling.

"I can't- God-" he sobs "i know you felt it I know you Saw, my LOVE is so so high I've killed so many people I only bring ruin and they were right, you Know they were right. Mama didn't make us equal." He lowers his head. "She gave all the good to Dream and all the bad to me and they were Right, they were, I'm the extra made so he could be Perfect, just LOOK AT ME!" He looks up, eye wide and manic and Begging "All i bring is- I never Listen I- do you even know how this happened?" He asks, voice suddenly quiet, and he looks down at his hands. They're shaking.

"I Can't- after you left after everyone else- Died, it was just me and Dream, it was just me and my brother.

"We were- we were seven, and we didn't know what to Do. We didn't know how to work, how to hunt or to farm, we didn't know Anything." He lowers his head in shame "He'd go making flower crowns, clumsy, the way you taught him, and sell them. Or at least Try and I-" he rubs his face again. "I didn't even bother, I just- I just stole. I just stole and stole and stole and told him I was working for it, which I Was." He laughs, wet and meaningless. "It took a lot of running."

"One day though, the farmer- I think he had enough of me, he caught me one day and said, instead of berating me he said- he gave me a bag of apples and laughed and joked that it was for giving him such a good work out every day, that it was for a holiday or something, I don't know, his excuses were many." He takes a shaky breath. "I was so, so happy, I thanked him profusely, and he looked at me weird, I sensed he was uncomfortable, but I thought I was just- thanking him wrong or something, so I didn't think about it." His hand clenches into the dirt.

"I was hungry. I was so, so hungry, that I ate one on the way, and I-" his voice cracks "It hurt so Bad Blue, it hurt so much. He put a curse on me, he did something to me I don't- I don't know if it was magic or a spell or some poison or- or something but he did something to me and it Hurt, it Hurt so Bad." His voice wobbles as he speaks, and Blue says nothing, hands folded on his lap as he listens.

"I didn't know where I was, I didn't know what was happening, I didn't even know if I was screaming or not because all I could hear was this sickening Squelch as something made its way out of me, breaking everything in its path." He wraps his arms around himself for comfort, rubbing them as if it would replace the warmth of another body.

"It broke through my head and I passed out, and when I woke up everyone was Dead. I couldn't breathe from the smell, it was blood and dust and something burning in my nose, and I couldn't Breathe.

"There were pitchforks everywhere and torches and it was sunset, and Dream was looking at me and he-" he cracks up "He Ran. he ran and I never saw him again. And I- it hurt so Bad." A shuddering breath, Blue still doesn't react, Nightmare doesn't give him time to.

"I felt so, so strong, like something was thrumming beneath my marrow and begging for more. It scared me, I didn't know what to Do. I wanted to go look for him, I wanted to go explain but I was Scared. I was scared of hurting him too so I left, I buried who I could and I left, and I've been- I've been wandering ever since."

"You felt it." He blurts out, wanting to delay the inevitable. "You felt it all in my soul, when you saw me again. I felt it, you CHECKED me. And I- I don't think you liked what you saw."

".... I'm not- Him, anymore I can't- I can't pretend again. I can't sit here and hear you tell me about him and- I can't, I can't lie anymore blue I- I'm sorry. I killed him. I'm sorry. And I'm all you have left."

".... Nightmare..." He still flinches despite himself, and Blue extends hand, so he pulls away, Makes himself pull away, because it's no longer instinct to do so. "C'mere, please."

"..."

God he's always been Weak. Weak and a coward and-

"You did what you had to do." He tugs him close, and nNightmare, dazed, lets him.

"You were scared, you were so, so small Nightmare, you and Dream both." He wraps an arm around him, his voice so soft it could barely be heard over the crackling of the fire.

"I don't condemn you for stealing. I don't condemn you for lying. And I don't condemn you for-" He pauses. "For killing others, in self defense."

Blue pulls him against his chest, and Nightmare is too weak to pull away.

"I am not Angry, I am not Judging, it's never been my job to, my job is to protect you, queen's orders."

Nightmare opens his mouth to retort, but Blue shushes him, so he clamps it shut again and lowers his head. Blue doesn't let him however, gently lifting it by the cheek and chin.

"I don't care if she's dead, I don't care that your kingdom has fallen, and I don't care if I'm no longer your knight, I don't care if I'm a stranger to you anymore because I have you Back.

"I didn't like what I saw, you're right. I wondered what happened, you're Right. But I was just so, so happy to have my little prince back that I just didn't care, I held you, because I wanted to, and in that moment nothing mattered more than doing that, nothing mattered more that feeling you solid again in my arms. You could've been covered in venom and poison and all manner of danger and I still wouldn't have cared."

"I was." He says quietly, meaning I Am.

"And I still don't care.

"We're not the same people we were ten years ago, we both changed, we both did things we didn't want to do because we had to, that's what growing older means, holding onto hope even if it feels like there's none left to hold.

"Nightmare.. you didn't Ask for this. You were just a hungry, scared lost child doing his best. You did your Best Nightmare. and it was Good Enough.

"Because you're still here."

He begins shaking again, but stays limp.

"You're still here, and I'm so, so happy you made it."

"I'm not Him."

"If you weren't, you wouldn't let me hold you right now."

That shuts him up.

"You did so, so Well with the cards you'd been given. Literally every single one begged for you to die but you Refused. You Refused to die Nightmare, you survived, you Made it.

"I have no doubt in my soul that what you did that day was necessary. Poor people steal, that's why the kingdom should provide for them, so they don't have to. But the kingdom was gone, the farmer didn't care, and you were all on your own and you made it Anyway. You placed yourself where I could find you, where you could find Me. You took this little ragtag group of criminals and made them your family, and I have no doubt that you were afraid every single step of the way, whether alone or together, and so was I."

He tucks him beneath his chin, as if he still fit him perfectly.

"You did so, so well in bringing me here. You wanted to survive so you Did. You wanted to find me, so you Did. You put together a good enough team to find me and take care of you and listen to your orders and you Did. You did Everything you set out to do, all on your own, and you did it so Well." His breath begins shaking, tendrils curling and digging into the ground to stop him from crying, but when has Nightmare ever won?

"You were scared, and you were hurt, and you were alone and you didn't know what was happening to you but you Made it." Why is he smiling right now? How could he fine any joy in the Thing that Nightmare has become? He nuzzles against the top of his head and Nightmare chokes back a gasp.

"I don't care if you changed, because it's still You, it's still You beneath all that anger and fear and Hate, it's still you no matter how much pain you were in, no matter How much you had to do to survive. I don't care about your LOVE nightmare, i care about You, it could be any level and I'd still want you, Still love you."

He Sobs, gripping the arm that cradles him like a man clings to his last coin on his death bed, begging the ferry of the river styx to be Kind.

"You did well, and I'm so, so proud of you, dust and blood and corruption and all, your tears may burn me nightmare but I'd take the fire if it's from you.

"This isn't pretend Nightmare, it's real, you can never fool me with a lie or a trick because I'll always catch you, you're not lying to me Nightmare, you're just.. You. and that's why I stayed."

He can barely even hear him beneath his sobbing, his breaths are short and uneven and ragged and pleading, what he's begging for he doesn't know, but Blue seems to, because he leans back against the tree and curls nightmare inside his body, shielding this crying beast from the world that he's hurt so Badly.

"You're Mine, Nightmare" He says quietly. "Whether prince or thief or killer or prisoner or Child. You're mine, you can't change that anymore than you can change the fact that I love you, and we both know you can't do that."

"Please" He begs, "I'm so so sorry-" restless legs pushing against the grass and twigs and leaves as he pushes himself ever closer "I'm so sorry, God I'm so so sorry Please-"

He shushes him, as if he simply had a skinned knee or a bruise on his face, as if it means nothing to him at all. "i know you are sweetness, I know you are, it's okay, you're forgiven, the world forgives you, it forgives all of you."

"God please- I'm so- I'm so so Sorry-"

"shhhh.. you're okay, I'm here, it's okay, hand it over to me Nightmare, give it all over, I'll carry it with you."

"please-"

"You did so well getting here on your own, you did so well reaching me again, all you've had to do lay it to rest my love, lay it all down"

"oh my God-" He sobs.

"I'll take it from here."

[moa-broke-me]

Valdangelo NSFW alphabet!

first of all, yeah, this is gonna be about leo and nico having sex with each other. if that bothers you, keep scrolling (also tw for mention of csa because yeah, idk what's wrong with me)

A = Aftercare:

Usually, it's pretty intensive, though Nico's aftercare needs tend to skew physical, whereas Leo's tend to skew emotional. He needs a lot of cuddles and reassurance <3

-

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and each other's):

Leo's favorite parts of Nico are his lips, his neck, and his hips. They're just so graceful and sensitive and wonderful. These are Nico's own favorite parts of himself too, as they're Leo's favorite's, and it was the first time in a long, long time that he'd ever believed a compliment.

Nico's favorite parts of Leo are his ass and his stomach, since they're both firm and toned and... Just amazing. But Leo's favorite part of himself is his hands, since they make things.

-

C = Cum:

Leo doesn't produce a lot, to be honest, but that's alright. Quality over quantity <3 Nico is trans, and yeah. He squirts a fair bit.

-

D = Dirty Secret:

Leo's dirty secret is that he masturbated in a church. See, he was like, 13, so the urge was VERY strong as it is for many kids at that age (of course, this, sadly, isn't the only reason), but since he was homeless, well... There wasn't really anywhere private that he could take care of that. So he just kinda... Ducked into a random church and did it in the broom closet. He may or may not have done this multiple times, in multiple churches. Thankfully, he was never caught, and sometimes he could get free donuts post-wank.

Nico's is that, while he was still crushing on Percy, he wanted to remove his pubic hair, but he was scared of razors, so he decided he'd try to wax it. Except, he didn't know how waxing worked, so he just... got a candle and dripped hot wax on his pubes and it burned, because obviously, and he had to be sent to the hospital.

-

E = Experience:

So, Nico was a virgin when they met, never even masturbated before. Leo, on the other hand...

Ok, this is where CSA is gonna be mentioned, so... Last chance to scroll.

Leo was groomed and molested by his babysitter when he was eleven. She was sixteen, and his fosters were extremely neglectful, constantly going out to the local casino to waste every last cent of the money the state had given them to take care of him. So she was over there basically every day, from the time he got back from school to the time he went to bed at night. He developed a crush on her, because she was the only one in his life who showed him any decency in years, asked about his interests, laughed at his jokes, told him he deserved better than this. She built his trust up, and then...

And then she touched him. And of course, at the time, it felt like a dream come true, this girl, giving him attention. But... Soon, it became apparent that she was only using him to get what she wanted. She wasn't even attracted to him, she just wanted the rush of power that came with ruining a child's life, their confidence, their concept of what love is supposed to look like. She became cold and standoffish and utterly disinterested in him when he wasn't naked.

But the thing is, this experience didn't make him afraid of sex. Instead, he developed hypersexual coping mechanisms, and started doggedly pursuing girls. Especially girls that acted detached, the way she used to. Because that was his only experience with sex at all, and for years, he thought that was normal. It was only when he met Hazel that he knew what being wanted, truly wanted, felt like. And no, that relationship didn't shake out, but it did trigger a painful, much-needed paradigm shift. That what happened with Veronica wasn't normal, and that he needed to get help. Unfortunately, once he met Calypso, he started to backslide, with the aid of the curse.

Thankfully, he's gotten away from her, gotten therapy, and is making great progress repairing his relationship with sex.

-

F = Favorite Position:

For both of them, it's on the sex swing. Leo made one specifically for them, and it's AWESOME. It's got all the bells and whistles, cuffs, plugs, you name it, there's a button for it.

-

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in bed, or more silly):

Nico tries to keep it serious and sexy and romantic, and Leo constantly ruins the mood by making a bunch of bad, corny puns. But he actually does it on purpose, purely so he can get Nico all pouty and cute.

-

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.):

Nico has very little hair at all, and since he's an adult now, knows how to properly wax. Leo, on the other hand, likes to keep it bushy down there. And Nico's actually into that. Pits too.

-

I = Intimacy (Like the emotional/romantic components of sex):

Nico loves to give and get a lot of praise, compliments, and kisses during sex, and especially during foreplay. As I've already said, Leo needs a lot of post-coital emotional support, especially the first few times they did it, so this works out really well. Sometimes there are tears, sometime there aren't. Either way, they often call in a pizza and cuddle the rest of the night watching a ghibli movie.

-

J = Jacking Off:

Leo used to do it, like, ALL THE TIME. It was part of the hypersexuality. He still does it pretty frequently, but he's calmed down a lot ever since he's started healing.

Nico, on the other hand, does it a lot more often now. He's trans, so he never really knew how until Leo showed him, but ever since then, he's been HOOKED. Does it nearly every night to fall asleep.

K = Kink:

So, there are some kinks they share, and some they don't. One of the ones they share is bondage. Nico especially loves to be tied up and used. Both of them have a rather extensive collection of leather restraints and harnesses. Of course, another is sadomasochism, they take turns being the spanker and the spankee, watching each other's skin blossom into bruises and hickeys. Crossdressing, roleplay, and costume sex, Leo really loves it when Nico dresses as a maid, and Nico loves to play as a maid getting fucked by the man of the house. There's voreurism, watching each other masturbate. Dracyphilia, which is crying. These are just a few. Leo never expected Nico to be such a freak judging by how shy he is, but he's not complaining.

Of course, both of them have a kink or two that the other doesn't share, but does indulge in because it's not a hard limit, and it makes their partner happy. Like bloodplay. Nico's REALLY into bloodplay, and Leo... Doesn't see the appeal. But he'll still prick Nico's skin if that's what makes him happy.

Leo also likes to get pegged. Nico has a strap-on that he uses sometimes, purely for Leo's sake. It doesn't really do anything for him, but it doesn't hurt, and he likes hearing Leo moan.

-

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex):

Probably their own bedroom, as that's where all their kink gear is. Sometimes they'll fuck on the kitchen table or something, but that's rare, and not very comfortable. That's only for if they're both like, desperately horny, like, can-barely-make-it-through-the-door horny.

-

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going):

Honestly, just being around each other. They're like magnets.

-

N = NO (hard limits):

Both of them have agreed that piss, shit, and vomit are gross and not sexy, but beyond that, their hard limits are pretty different.

Leo's big NO is any kind of cnc, dubcon, or ageplay, for... Obvious reasons. Somnophilia included, and especially no sex while intoxicated. Nico is neutral on most of those, so it's not a big deal for him to agree never to do that with him.

Nico's is PIV sex. His vagina isn't totally off-limits, as we'll get to in the next section, but he just... Doesn't feel comfy doing that. Leo's a little disappointed, but respects Nico's wishes.

-

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Oh, Nico LOVES to get eaten out, ass or pussy, it doesn't matter. Leo knows just what to do, how hard to suck on his clit, what shapes to make his tongue. And he'll suck Leo's dick, but he'd much rather eat his ass. He's pretty good at both, actually.

As for Leo, he really likes to 69. It's a little hard to do on the sex swing, but hey, they don't have to use it every time. Much prefers Nico's pussy, and does prefer his dick sucked most of the time. But sometimes, he'll want his ass licked, and he loves seeing Nico's face light up when he asks him.

-

P = Pace:

They usually take it slow, really savor the moment, but sometimes they'll go for a marathon sort of thing, like fucking really hard for a long time. It's only for special occasions, since they have to prepare quite a bit before, and recover for a long time after.

-

Q = Quickies:

Quickies are very rare, most of the time they have to really prepare for it, foreplay alone can take half an hour at least. But once in a blue moon, they'll shrug, say, why not, and give each other a quick handjob.

-

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.):

Well, one time, they wanted to do a roleplay scene where Leo was being watched and "didn't know it", and it ended with him having a panic attack, so after that, not really. They've just kind of fallen into a rotation of different positions and fantasies they like.

-

S = Stamina:

Leo has a lot more stamina than Nico most of the time, but it does fluctuate. Sometimes they're roughly equal, sometimes it's a huge difference.

T = Toys:

Nico loves toys. Like seriously loves them. Vibrators especially, like the big ones, he loves putting them in his pussy and letting Leo lap up his squirt. Leo loves this position too.

Leo likes to get pegged, like I said before, and will use fleshlights sometimes, when Nico's away. He's even invented a few toys just for the two of them.

-

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Oh, Nico is such a fucking tease. It drives Leo crazy, and that's exactly where he wants him. He wants him to take charge, to bend him over and smack his ass. It's much more fun to play coy than to use his words, after all. And Leo's wise to it, but he plays along anyway. It's all one big game.

-

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make):

They're both incredibly loud. If you walked past their bedroom, you'd think someone was dying in there. Mostly moans, and shrieks, but sometimes each other's names.

-

W = Wild Card:

Leo likes face sitting. Top or bottom, it doesn't matter to him. He's always down for that shit.

-

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture, or words):

Leo's packing like, six inches, seven when erect. Curved upwards, sort of slender. His balls aren't small or anything, but compared to like, Percy's or Jason's, they look fucking tiny.

Nico's clit has grown a lot since T, it's a little over a full inch now.

-

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

They both have a very healthy sex drive, Nico maybe a little moreso than Leo.

-

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward):

Nico's usually the first to fall asleep, by a long shot. Leo's just so comfortable <3

[greatestheroofgreece]

Herc Headcanons 1

I'm gonna go ahead and post some headcanons whenever the urge strikes me, mostly to help me flesh out my take on a sane Herc.

Since his memories of Illya from FSN seem to be strong enough that Bersercles remembers them in FGO, I don't see why Sabercles wouldn't remember them as well. So he treats Illya as a surrogate daughter.

Speaking of kids, one bit of canon that needs addressing is that Herc had a lot of children; he had over 50 tykes to his name even before he started his Labors, and that number only increased over the years. This is why so many people are able to claim to be his descendants; he had so many kids that there's a good chance they legitimately are. On the headcanon side of things, given how he acts with kids even as a Berserker, this blog is taking the stance that Herc tried his damndest to be there for every single one of them, but that did inevitably mean that (especially during his adventuring years) he wasn't able to spend as much time with any one of them as he would've liked.

Herc is remarkably humble for a man who's accomplished as much as he has. He knows he's damn strong, of course, but he never assumes his opponents are helpless before him unless it's definitively proven. Even for those that literally cannot hurt him, he'll still show respect for the prowess and skill that they display. As a side effect, this means that whenever he buckles down and truly commits to a fight, he does his utmost to murder the shit out of his opponent post-haste; he usually respects them too much to not take them seriously. As for people who aren't fighters at all, well, they're just flat out capable of doing things he can't, and thus are worthy of great praise indeed!

So this is less a headcanon and more just a thing I think is kinda wild. In Fate, Achilles was one of the people trained by Chiron, and by all accounts he actually finished his training too. Here's the thing: Heracles accidently killed Chiron in his Fourth Labor. Which means Achilles was almost certainly a teenager at the time. Given that Achilles' whole deal was either die young in glory or die old in obscurity, that means there wasn't that many years left after Chiron's death until the Battle of Troy began. Heracles could well have been alive when Hellen was taken by Paris; considering he still had six years of Labors left after killing his centaur buddy and that he still had a whole hell of a lot of adventuring left to do even after the Gigantomachia, he might have actually outlived Achilles in Fate. I don't know yet where I actually stand on this (I default to him being dead before the Troy Troubles are done), but I still think that's a pretty crazy thought.

[rainbowsky]

Hi 🌈sky!

I respectfully disagree with you on the stage situation.

https://twitter.com/devkxx/status/1640402462468341762?s=46&t=syHIf795WX9pVKa0yxO76g

Hate is a strong word so i dont think it’s hate but rather “discomfort” maybe? I dont think gg hates her, never in fact. But it’s quite probable (in my own perspective obvs) that he’s been annoyed with this situation for quite some time. I don’t think he would agree on “appeasing” fans at all considering he and his team must have already foreseen the outcome (hot search etc.). On the other hand, although this doesnt really affect me as a turtle as i long has been szd, it sort of feels like a “slap” to turtle if i was to entertain the idea that gg agreed on the standing side by side with yz on the stage as it was something that im sure he knew that turtles had been excited for ggdd to finally share stage prior to the event (and it didnt happen)

Hi Anon! 😊

This is in reference to a previous post.

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

I feel like the point of my post has been missed, here. I don't want to lose sight of that point by digging into a big debate about whether GG would agree to stand beside YZ or not. It's not the point of what I'm trying to say.

For years turtles have indulged in hate toward YZ, and have spun detailed narratives about how horrible and manipulative she is, and how much GG hates and resents her behavior. I myself have fallen prey to some of these narratives.

I do agree with you that the GG/YZ ship has caused him some headaches. However it's a tiny, tiny group of people, and it's a somewhat inevitable outcome of having starred in a romance drama alongside her. It just goes with the territory.

Any way you slice it, GG and YZ were voted king and queen and didn't take the stage in that role. I think it would be entirely too charitable toward Weibo to assume they'd just pass it over to someone else without being given anything in return. I personally suspect this shared stage at the finale was what they agreed to. Perhaps not side by side - I'll concede that the clip makes him appear puzzled to be pushed next to her - but on the same final stage.

There's no doubt that these things are negotiated up front, as a condition of attendance. Stars aren't going to agree to appear at an event without agreeing in advance to what is going to take place, so whether it's side by side or as a group but not together, GG agreed to stand on the same stage as her.

And whether or not he agreed to stand next to her, it's utterly undeniable that he voluntarily waited for her to get to the stage and urged her take the stage ahead of him, he interacted with her in a friendly way, he chatted with her as they were leaving the stage. If the turtle narrative about him not wanting anything to do with her was true, there's no way he would have done any of that.

It's all right there in the clip I shared.

As for your last bit there about it being a 'slap' to turtles that GG would agree to appear onstage with her but not appear onstage with DD - that's something I deeply disagree with. I have said this over and over again throughout the lead-up to Weibo Night - turtles need to be realistic about what they think they're going to see.

It was never a guarantee that GG and DD would appear on the same stage, and any thought of an interaction was a wild pipe-dream. Any disappointment any turtle feels about it is a result of their own unrealistic expectations. DD didn't even stay for the whole event, as he had to return to filming. We should all consider ourselves lucky that we got to see him at all.

The event wasn't about their relationship, and they didn't appear there as a couple. It was an industry event.

You're free to interpret things however you like, and you're free to approach fandom however you like. I'm just expressing my own thoughts on this, and stating why I think turtles as a fandom have been unfairly awful to YZ, when as far as I can tell GG gets along with her just fine.

The entire point of my post was to highlight the way turtles treat GG and DD's female friends and colleagues. It's unacceptable in my eyes. It's awful. I don't think GG and DD would be proud of our behavior.

Let's not obscure that key point by focusing on our own hurt feelings about unrealistic expectations.

I ask that people don't send me more messages about this topic unless you have something major to add to the discussion that you can't simply state in the notes. I don't want my day to be taken up with this topic. Thanks.

[omgfloofy]

#xvtober, day 5: magic

I've decided that, since I've not done a WIP Wednesday in awhile, I would pick out bits from dal segno al coda this month for #xvtober and post them on days of prompts. This is especially because my Date Night story is taking way longer than I thought it would.

As always, there are no guarantees that these will be kept word for word when I finally get to publishing the story on AO3.

From Part 1: attacca subito l'Allegro -

---

Coming back home alone wasn't all that unusual, and after this weekend? It wasn't entirely unwanted. It was late afternoon by this point, and the entry, as well as the living room and kitchen ahead were draped in a pleasant, welcoming glow from the afternoon sun.

Noctis locked the door and haphazardly kicked off his shoes. He was about to step up and leave them behind when, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he felt an urge to pick them up and put them to the side and out of the way.

Despite the warmth in the room from the sunlight, there was also an emptiness that seemed to reflect well on the loneliness permeating his strange, fragmented memories. Suddenly, Noctis found himself regretting that he didn't invite Ignis back up.

On the other hand, he knew that this needed to be done alone. The suggestion that Ignis made was sound. He wasn't sure why he hadn't considered looking into his magic this way, but it made a lot of sense. 

Since the outing wasn't anything formal, there was no need to change, as he was already in comfortable clothes. After the usual routine of coming home, he returned to the living room, settled on the floor, and rested his back against the arm of his sofa.

He was pretty young when his dad first taught him about meditating on his link with the Crystal. It became a part of his early lessons since it was a great way to learn how to feel for his magic, in spite of the completely expected trials that came from teaching a young boy how to meditate. It gave him a means to help him learn how to draw it out as he needed. After the accident, once Noctis had been cleared to return to his training, he returned to it with these basics, though he found that it was much harder at the time.

Once he was sure he was comfortable, Noctis drew in a deep breath. At the same time, he reached out to his magic to pull on it at the same time. Through this, he focused on the spiritual line that flowed between him and the Crystal. As he exhaled, he slowly let the magic leave him, as well. It was like a rope - he pulled on it to draw it closer, and without completely letting go, he released it enough and just focused his mind on it as it bled away from him. Only to repeat with another deep breath.

We live and breathe its magic, as his dad had told him over the weekend. This wasn't the first time Noctis had heard that phrase, either, and it most certainly won't be the last. The message was a simple reminder: as much as air filled their lungs, magic stirred within their souls and it was an easy phrase to turn his focus to during this kind of exercise. He and his dad, like the others in their family, were intrinsically linked to the holy light of the Crystal itself. Even if his own magic was stunted, this exercise served to help him understand that it was still there.

As he continued, Noctis became so focused inwardly that he no longer had a clear awareness of his surroundings. Inhale and pull the magic in. Exhale, and allow it to dwindle away once again. Not only had he begun to realize that this exercise was both easier and comforting, but it allowed him to find an awareness that he hadn't had before. Was it because of the same thing from these memories? He just somehow knew and understood the power of the Crystal in a way he didn't realize was possible.

What truly surprised him was that, as he turned his focus onto that light that was contained within him, he was aware of traces of energy in the air around him. Nothing was very strong to pull at easily, but it was there. There was a comforting warmth with the motes of fire that he could feel, a chill in the air from the splinters of ice with a dash of tiny jolts of electricity that could send goosebumps up his arms if the sensation had been a physical one.

He was somehow already aware of what to look for when feeling out the elements, despite having not gotten past that point in his training. It felt as if it had become second nature. The only answer Noctis had to all of this was that these were concepts understood by his past self - things that just couldn't be taught.

No, he started to realize that a lot of this was something that could only be learned through experience.

Eventually, Noctis opened his eyes again. The world around him was now cool and dark. He must have spent hours like this. He had been wrapped up in feeling anything and everything he could while he had been opened to that mental awareness, and time in the rest of the world had continued to merrily dance along. There wasn't any need to turn on any lights when he got home, since it was still light out, and even now, there was no real need to get up and change that. He was content to remain in the darkness. Instead, Noctis turned his attention back to the sensation of the elements that he felt during his meditation and, to his surprise, he could still feel them.

With a newfound curiosity for this, Noctis decided that he would turn his attention back on the elements he could feel around him. He simply cupped his hands together in front of him and took another deep breath. He didn't have a full explanation for what he felt. Either he still had some magical charge from his meditation - maybe he released it as cleanly as he thought - or the impression had left him far more aware of any metaphysical energies around him.

Noctis closed his eyes and visualized the glow and warmth of fire. The element was always easier to find and pull on - if allowed to, fire simply wanted to burn. It wasn't a matter of coaxing it out like the others.

As he opened his eyes, he found a miracle - something he never thought he could accomplish himself.

Noctis had seen his father and the glaives cup a small flame in their hands, but this had always been out of his own reach. He had been broken after the marilith attack, and this had been a problem since then. Except this time, the small, fragile, trembling flame danced within his hands. It didn't cause any pain. In fact, it was pleasant and warm.

For the first time since he had awakened into these old (new?) memories, the stress and fear that had been settled on Noctis' shoulders washed away. He clasped his hands together - the flame was so fragile that it was easy to extinguish. He leaned forward and rested his hands against his forehead.

He made a sound - somehow a sob and a laugh at the same time - as he was washed with relief. For the first time, he found something good in everything that had happened. These memories somehow helped guide him past the point of contention spurred on by crippled magic.

Days ago, before everything had happened, he realized that he didn't even have enough of a grasp to understand where to begin to do something like this. Now, for the first time since these broken memories of the future sprang into his mind, Noctis felt that he could actually do something to keep the images he saw in his mind's eye from happening in the first place.

Slowly, Noctis finally uncoiled himself from the floor and put his feet under him. He felt his joints and muscles protest from how long he was seated on the floor. He followed through with a slow and drawn out stretch to give his aching back some relief. For the first time in a long, long time, Noctis found that he just didn't care about the pain.

The rest of his evening was surprisingly pleasant. For his dinner, Noctis had leftovers from the lunch Ignis made earlier. He got his ass kicked by Prompto in the latest game they were playing online. Then, once it had grown dark and was nearly time to sleep, Noctis made sure to write his response to Luna in the notebook and hand it off to Umbra to be delivered.

[kureis-writing-hell]

Whumptober 07: The Way You Shake And Shiver.

I wanna do more short fics for those prompts but this one already took me a while (as u can see, I'm posting a week later). It's tbh my first whump when I know what is it! It's been so long since I wrote Chisaki too!

Hurt no comfort, panic attack, some light violence and mentions of blood.

*

Before, Chisaki didn't know his prosthetics could shake like normal hands would under heavy stress. Now he was looking down at them, trembling in an unnatural, jerky way. The black and purple material that was used on his hands looked so, so wrong against the white floor of the hospital, and the blood he still didn't get rid of was making the image so much more horrible.

It wasn't his blood. It was Nao’s. Who was in the operating room right now, hopefully getting stitched up and not dying. He showed up in Kai’s so called apartment all beaten up and bloodied, still smiling like a fucking idiot, and passed out on his floor. Kai thought he died right then. In his arms.

But right now he couldn't focus on Nao being hurt, or getting better. Chisaki couldn't even wonder what happened. He kept looking at his bloodied hands, feeling like his stomach was pushing up into his throat.

It's been so long since he saw blood on his hands. Last time, he was disgusted, his skin felt like it was burning off of his bones and he was simply terrified of it. Now he felt nauseous. He knew it was Nao’s and he could feel the ghost of that awful feeling - his mysophobia, albeit controlled to some degree - creeping under his skin, but he didn't want to feel this way about Nao’s blood. He wanted to be terrified of the man's well being, he wanted to feel nauseous about that and not about the blood on his hands. He shouldn't feel this strong urge to wash it off, plenty of times, to get rid of it. He shouldn't even be thinking about it at the moment like this. And it all was killing him from the inside, making him feel like an asshole, proving he was a horrible, horrible person after all.

Lost in his thoughts, Chisaki didn't notice a hero entering the corridor. A nurse was running after him, pleading to leave for now, because even if he was a hero he wasn't allowed to disturb the operation or the worried family.

(Family! They considered Chisaki Nao’s family the second he said he was the man's partner and for a second it filled Kai with such euphoria! They were a family!)

The hero - muscular, draped in a flashy outfit, a bit old school - reached Chisaki in a few, loud steps. Before Kai could acknowledge him, the hero grabbed his shirt and lifted him high above the bench he was sitting on. Chisaki felt his back hitting the wall behind him, painfully, with his prosthetics following and ringing loudly against the concrete. He lifted his face, sweaty, pale and still in shock from seeing Nao pass out back in his flat. It took him a second too long to realize what was happening.

A huge hand slammed the wall right by Kai’s head, leaving a small hole. The nurse caught up to the hero, but kept her distance, seeing how aggressive the man was. She chirped something about the security coming but Chisaki was focused on the hero instead.

"Fucking villains," he growled. Kai didn't recognize him, but he wasn't paying much attention to heroes nowadays. "You never learn! Your buddy's done, understand? He's going to rot in jail and it's only a matter of time before you join him!"

The hero shook Chisaki’s body before slamming him against the wall again. Kai gasped, the pain forcing his body into some sort of action. He grabbed the hero's arm, squeezed with his prosthetics and tried to pry the man off of him.

Two guards came from behind the hero and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to step back. Turning his focus from Chisaki to the guards, the hero let him go. He fell back on the bench, cringing, grasping his ribs. He was pretty sure nothing was broken, just bruised, but it still felt uncomfortable. When he lifted his eyes, to consider the situation, he saw the nurse, looking at him. She didn't move any closer. She heard what the hero said, Kai could see it in her eyes - uncertain, maybe even a little scared. She didn't know she was dealing with an ex villain before.

Her look was the top of the cake for him. His bloodied prosthetics, the stuff the hero just told him, and finally the scared look of a nurse. And Nao. Nao, who seemed to get himself into some sort of ordeal. All the thoughts began swirling in his head, he felt like he couldn't breath, there were too many people around him. So Chisaki stood up.

"I'm fine," he huffed to the nurse, still feeling his back and ribs ache and quickly, nervously, stepped away from the commotion, away from the operation room, somewhere, anywhere that he could be alone.

The second he entered the toilet he ran towards the sink. He let the water pour over his prosthetics, steam showing up immediately but he didn't feel the temperature the same way a normal skin would feel it. Pink flew down the sink, Nao’s blood slowly washing off, already mostly dry, when Kai looked up.

His eyes were red and he was shaking, full body spasm now. The nausea came higher up his body, he tried to gulp it down and then tried to keep his emotions straight. He did it for so many years, why was it so difficult right now?

Then he heard what the hero said again. Nao rotting in jail. Him going back to jail. Tartarus was hell that still terrified him, even after it's been shut down. He'd do anything to not go back to any jail and even more to keep Nao out of it. The plans and schemes began piling up in his head now, how they could run, where they could run, what they should do if the threat was real. Chisaki grabbed the edge of the sink, feeling his knees buckle over the ideas forming in his mind. Every worse than the previous one. And then there was a voice in the back of his head, a voice he knew, whispering to him that it was all, somehow, his fault. That if Nao died it would be his fault. Nao could die.

And then: if it could save Nao, Chisaki would even go back to Tartarus.

Kai’s knees gave up and he slid to the ground, still holding onto the sink but at the same time hiding under it. He took a shaky breath but it seemed to get stuck in his throat, never reaching his lungs. Then he sobbed and squeezed his eyes tight, trying, and failing, to control the panic attack.

He stayed there, under the sink, shaking like a leaf.

[sadcatstuff]

about 42

"posted this 3 months ago"

I never had a positive relationship with sx until I met this guy. Sx was just sx but I loved cuddling after.

When I was 19 I met an older guy on an app because I was looking for an orgy, I just wanted to cuddle really and missed the intimacy of being close to someone. 5 cuddly guys are better than 1 right? Instead of the orgy, I met a 25 year old.

He picked me up in a truck. When we first met he scared me by talking about archeology and burying bodies. I was afraid he was going to hurt me and wanted to leave. I asked to get in the back so I could open the door and run but I saw him grab his gun. I didn't know what to do so okay I just got in the back. He did whatever to me.

Things started off slow but he was always into me, I didn't really understand why but the attention made me want him more. We never used protection and he never pulled out either, I don't know how I never got pregnant. It was so rewarding. He invited me to his house. Everytime I didn't want to have sx but he would push liquor into my hand and pressure me to drink it. Liquor burns my throat so I always used that excuse to not give him a blowjob. Sometimes I would stay overnight and he would wake me up by rolling over and putting it inside me and cg again before going off to work. He would do this frequently without asking. When he slept, sometimes he would grab my wrist or put his hand on my stomach so I couldn't move. I thought he loved me, he didn't want me to leave. After about a year of this I told him I loved him but he didn't say it back. That's ok. I meant it, if he wanted me to stay there forever and be his house toy I would have done it. The way he smells, his moans, everything about him was warm and his arms were so strong. We never did anything outside of his house honestly. He would send an Uber or pick me up and we'd stay there all night.

We went to Starbucks and something weirded me out. Then another time we ordered food and something weirded me out too but I couldn't figure it out. I asked to see his ID and he wouldn't give it to me. We kinda play-scuffled for a bit and I saw something on his ID that didn't make sense but when I asked him about it he didn't really answer. I didn't see his full birthday but I knew something was wrong. I started to hate him but the sx was great so I kept inviting him over and coming over whenever he asked.

We slept, cuddled, and fucked for 3 years. Turns out he lied about his age and was really 42. 42. I felt violated. I hated this. I wasted so much time. He lied about his age, his degree and the school he went to, created a fake linkedin profile, and even lied about the age of his dog. He made jokes alluding to dying his hair but really what bothered me is the fact he pitched his voice. Are my feelings a lie too? All this for 3 years.

I got mad and yelled at him for like a year. I verbally abused him and he let me get all my frustrations out. Then I pushed it too far and he called me a bitch because I questioned him? I don't know why but it broke my heart and I cried. I was furious and felt disgusted with myself, but I want him back so much. I don't want him to hate me. I would boil water and use a towel to scrub his memories off of me. I asked my gyno for referrals for FGM.

For 3 years everything I had known was a lie. I loved a lie. He apologized for lying and said he wasn't trying to hurt me, he just wanted me to fulfill my urges with someone safe. He said he felt angst because I let him use me. I think we made up. He still calls me. He called me pretty and texts me at night sometimes. I'm going through some stuff and haven't reciprocated his flirting... but I don't know if there's still a chance he'll use me again. Last time he told me he would start fucking someone else. I was jealous but didn't question him this time. I don't reach out to him, he texts me when he wants to. If he does again I'll be a good girl and flirt back. I still feel violated but he was really sweet to me when I listened. I want to kiss him deeply and apologize for everything I did to push him away.

Life hasn't been fulfilling since, my heart feels empty.

I tried to move on. I don't have patience for men my age anymore. I tried dating but my boyfriend's dick was much smaller than his. I can't get him out of my head honestly. No one else turns me on, just memories of him over me. Caressing me, complimenting me. He was patient, yet demanding. And careful not to crush me when he was on top even though he often lost control and I couldn't breathe everytime he came. I miss him so much. I trusted him, I felt comfortable and safe even though I didn't at the same time. I wanted to give him children too but he didn't want any. Of course that's all gone now. Probably traumatized but its been a year since I saw his face. I tried to find something similar but literally can't find any man as depraved and perverted.

As I've gotten older I realize women are meant to be submissive. I hate the corporate race. If he takes me back I would fully submit every corner of my body to him and let him have as many children as he wants. I'll give him a blowjob too, he always told me to give him one but I only did it once. I should have listened.

I love him so much

[constablewafflebottom]

Dream A Little Dream of Me

Chapter 7

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed, the rumpled sheets beside me cool to the touch. I knew to expect this, Loki did tell me he'd have to go back to Ásgarðr last night, but I was still bummed about the idea of him being gone. The sun coming through the windows was a lot brighter than I was accustomed to waking up to, it had to be terribly late in the morning. It wasn't often that I got the chance to sleep past dawn and it felt weird to be doing it now, but I didn't have a husband to coddle today, so I felt a lazy start to my day was deserved. Just about all of the establishments I'd looked into yesterday would be closed for another few hours, so I had time to kill. Lounging in bed was a novel experience for me, and I savored the lack of urgency with a deep stretch before I rolled over and hugged the pillow Loki had used the night before. It still smelled faintly of him, of my shampoo and the soap I'd used on him. It wasn't the familiar ice and pine and musk that I was used to smelling on him, but it reminded me of our shower last night, and that brought a smile to my face. I stayed there in bed daydreaming about steamy showers and post coital cuddling until my bladder insisted on getting up. What a bitch.

After using the toilet and brushing my teeth, I slipped my robe on and returned to the bedroom to tidy up and make the bed. The towels that had been heaped on the floor were gone and a glance around showed that they were, of course, already hung up and dried by the time I'd gotten out of bed. I shook my head with a soft chuckle and moved to straighten the bed linens. Once that was done, I checked my phone for the time and realized quite suddenly that Michael hadn't called me at any point after he left. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't even told me where this conference was supposed to be happening, so I had no idea when I should have expected his call. I didn't want to talk to him, but I needed to, if for nothing else but to keep up the façade, so I opened my call history, found his name, and tapped to place the call. The phone rang several times, but this was nothing new. He would often miss my calls, but of course I wasn't allowed to be upset about that. Just before I could hit the end button, I heard him pick up with a groggy greeting, obviously only just waking up.

"Hey, I was just calling to check in with you," I told him. "You alright?"

"Oh, uh–yeah, fine," he grunted back.

"Okay… well, you didn't call last night when you got in, but I realized I didn't know where you were even going, so…" I trailed off. I heard the faint rustling of fabric and assumed he was getting up, but he sounded just as half-asleep as he had when he answered.

"Yeah, it was pretty late when we got in," he mumbled, his voice almost seemed to cover another sound, what could have been a voice in the background, but it was so quiet and soft, and could have been anything else, so I didn't pay much attention to it.

"Alright, well, like I said, I just wanted to check in. I'll let you get back to sleep and talk to you later," I said in preparation for hanging up.

"Yeah, okay." His short responses were confusing me, and I wasn't sure if he was in a bad mood, or just tired, or what, but my urge to placate was strong.

"Call me, okay? I love you," I said.

"Yeah, you, too. Bye," click.

I held the phone away from my ear and stared at the end call screen flashing at me. That was weird, wasn't it? Was I reading too much into it? Were the lies getting to me? Had I developed a guilty conscience after several days of sleeping with a man that wasn't my husband and sharing our bed with him? Surely not. Either way, I did want to get an early start on my job hunt, so I put my husband out of my mind and focused on getting ready. I found the most appropriate clothes I could, black dress slacks and a fitted button-up blouse, and paired them with black ballet flats and the only sport coat I had, a heather gray blazer that was stiff and a little musty from half a decade of disuse. Getting my hair into a French braid was a struggle, and it looked less than perfect by the time it was finished, but that's the benefit of curly hair, I suppose. It hides a lot of mistakes. After that, I put on some light make-up, stopped in the kitchen to grab something quick to eat, and gathered the folder with my résumés on my way out the door. I had a song in my heart and a pep in my step as I strode confidently down the path to the parking lot.

—

     Job hunting was, quite possibly, the most depressing, discouraging, disenchanting thing I could have done that day. The cloud of hope I'd been floating on ever since I decided to find a job and leave my husband had dissipated into a light fog, leaving me to crash back down to earth with nothing but a mouthful of the dirt that was reality for a person in my situation. Every single place I'd been to so far had rejected me. Some used the excuse that I was overqualified, others used the lapse in employment, and others just said they simply weren't looking. Only eight of them would even take a résumé from me, so I still had a handful left in my folder. I was on my way home to lick my wounds and attempt a plan B, when a new pub on the corner caught my eye. It wasn't on the list, it must have been very new if it didn't even have an online presence yet, so I pulled up and parked in the lot. My last hope was a pub called Lóðurr's. Fitting, I thought, that my last chance and my last disappointment for the day would have such a Viking-y name. The front of the building was covered in rustic scorched wood with metal work signage, and quaint outdoor seating with little fire pits intermittently lined on the patio between thick driftwood lounge chairs. It was a really cute place. I hated it.

 

 

     I gripped the steering wheel, closed my eyes and bowed my head, sending a prayer to whoever would listen, to, at the very least, help me handle the impending rejection without breaking down. With a fortifying breath, I unfastened my seatbelt and grabbed my folder before alighting from my vehicle and approaching the entrance. Straightening my shoulders to give the impression I still had a backbone, I gripped the cold metal snake they used as a door handle, pulled the heavy wooden door open and walked inside, glancing around for any signs of life. A long, deep bar sat to one side that appeared to be an entire tree cut long ways and sanded smooth on one side with distressed leather stools, a few rough hewn wooden tables with benches sat down the middle, and the other side held booths of the same distressed leather for more intimate drinking and dining. At the very back was an open floor that could be a dance floor or stage, or both. The walls were covered in replica weapons and shields (or maybe they were real, what did I know?), stylized paintings of ships, carvings of Norse symbols and icons. I was particularly amused by the display of gods they had lining the wall over the bar, Oðinn, old and one eyed with a beard like Gandalf; Thor, burly and similarly beared with his iconic hammer over one shoulder; Freyr, attractive, impressively if not intimidatingly endowed; and Loki–not my Loki, of course–skinny and small, devious, with a spindly mustache, just to name the few I could immediately recognize. 

 

 

     While I was inspecting the array of deities, a strong feminine voice called out to me.

 

 

     "Hi! Welcome to Lóðurr's, I'm afraid we're not serving just yet, but is there something I can help you with?" I turned to find a middle-aged woman, with graying blonde hair approaching me adorned with a kind smile. With my best attempt at returning it, I stuck my hand out to shake as she reached me, and she took it with a gentle little jiggle.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Moira Fenton, I was wondering if you were looking for any help?"

"You're lookin' for a job?" she asked to clarify.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"Oh, please, call me Karina, I'm the proprietor," she introduced herself with a chuckle and waved me to a booth in the back. "We're always looking for help, high turnover is the nature of the business."

"Yeah, I remember that from my last bar job."

"Oh, you have experience in food service," Karina asked as we sat down.

"Well, yeah…" I hedged. "It's um–it's been a little while," I cringed at my unintentional usage of Michael's definition of a little while. "I used to tend bar, wait tables, that sort of thing while I was in school."

"What were you in school for?"

"It was for business, I got my BBA about five years ago," I told her as I withdrew a copy of the résumé from the folder and slid it across the table.

"A degree, huh," she mumbled with a frown, and I could see the hesitation cross her face as she scanned the document. "But you haven't had a job since you graduated. Any particular reason for that?"

"Um, not particularly, no," I answered with a nervous swallow. "I got married after graduation." This seemed to be a relatively acceptable answer, at the very least she didn't immediately tell me no. That would come later. She looked over the paper carefully before returning her eyes back to me.

"And why do you want to work now?"

"I-I just need to," I said softly, trying to impress the importance without giving too much personal information away. She hummed in acknowledgement and folded her hands in front of her, leaning slightly toward me, her shrewd gaze taking in every detail of me. I could feel myself folding in, dropping my own clenched hands into my lap and leaning back into the cushion in a vain attempt at escape as I awaited the imminent rejection.

"The only thing you'd really be qualified for with that degree is a management position, and I'm afraid that's already occupied," she informed, still watching me closely. Another thick swallow to choke back the frustration and disappointment threatening to spill out, I took a deep breath even as I felt myself deflating.

"I–I don't need management, I'll–I'll take whatever you have open," I stammered weakly.

"I couldn't pay what you're worth to do anything else." The implication that I was too valuable went right over my head in my struggle to keep my emotions in check–all I heard was rejection. I had to close my eyes, because I could already see the tears starting to blur my vision. The weight of the entire day was crashing down on me, and I finally broke.

"Look, I've been to fifteen other places today and they all said the same thing. I–I really, really need something, anything. I'll take minimum wage if I have to. I just… I'm in a situation. I–I need to get out as soon as possible, and I can't do that without a way to support myself–" I cut myself short. I had to shut up, I'd spill everything to this complete stranger if I didn't stop this tremulous rambling. I squeezed my eyes and blinked a few times to chase the moisture away. When I finally looked back at her, she had an unreadable expression on her face that I took to mean the worst. I shook my head to try to clear it as well and shoved myself out of the booth. "Thank you for your time, Karina," I told her and moved toward the door, still struggling not to cry in public.

"Moira," her voice stopped me just before I reached the door and I froze with my arm still raised to grasp the metal serpent. I took a shuddering breath and turned back to find her standing beside the booth.

"Yes?"

"I could use an extra set of hands, behind the bar on the weekends. That's all I have for right now. Come back tomorrow afternoon, bring your driver's license and social security card," Karina said, still watching me with that indiscernible look on her face. I stared at her in stupefied silence for a long moment until I realized she was offering me a job.

"O-okay, I will. Thank you, Karina," I choked out, only then did she grace me with a smile before turning away and heading back to where the office must be, leaving me to stand there gaping after her. I gulped again, apparently I was having an issue with saliva production today, and glanced back at the gods lining the back wall of the bar, finding the inaccurate depiction of Loki with a watery smile. He probably had nothing to do with it, probably couldn't see or hear anything that had happened today (not to mention that thing looked absolutely nothing like him), but it felt like maybe it was an omen. A sign of something good finally coming my way, and all of it was because of him.

—

All the way home, I was practically giddy with excitement. True, it was only a weekend gig, but a job was a job! With a foot in the door, I was taking the first step toward my plan coming to fruition. I couldn't wait to tell Loki! Obviously, I had to do something to commemorate the occasion, so I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a bottle of effervescent wine and some ice cream for a little celebration later. I was walking on air as I headed toward my apartment, and didn't notice the person coming down the walkway toward me.

"Oh, hey, Moira! How ya doing!" She called out in a bright, bubbly voice that always annoyed me. It was my neighbor, Veronica Ashmore. Ugh.

"Hi, Veronica. I'm doing well, you?" I responded politely.

"I'm good," she said, with a smirk that told me she was just waiting to drop something on me. I was right. "Guess I'm not as good as you, though. You and Michael have been pretty busy lately, huh?" What the–fuck, play it cool.

"How do you mean," I asked, striving for innocence. I probably failed, though, considering the naughty grin she threw my way.

"You know. We share a wall, and y'all aren't exactly quiet," Veronica giggled.

"Oh… uh–" I blanked as I felt heat creeping up my neck to burn my ears. What was I supposed to say to this?

"Nothing to be ashamed of," she said airily and waved a dismissive hand. "Kinda jealous, though. It sounds like he's really giving it to you." The audacity of this woman was astounding. Who had conversations like this with someone you could only term as a casual acquaintance? "It's just weird, because you've always been so quiet. I was almost certain you guys never even had sex, but now…"

"Well, we have been married for five years. That stuff sort of happens that way," I excused tightly, livid and embarrassed that someone I barely spoke to had been so diligently speculating on my sex life. She hummed noncommittally and shrugged at my explanation. I needed to ensure this conversation stayed between us, the last thing I needed was Veronica making comments to my husband about how well he'd been nailing me lately. "Just–don't mention it to Michael? He's, uh, sort of insecure about this. He had a bit of a problem with it before, if you know what I mean," I lowered my voice suggestively, and I couldn't deny, hinting that the lull in our sex life was because he couldn't perform did give me a perverse sense of petty satisfaction.

"Oh, I gotcha" she breathed in understanding, then she giggled again at such a tantalizing piece of gossip with a wink and obnoxious elbow jab. "He must be doing better now, though. I ran into him heading out to the car on his way out of town when I got home yesterday, but he had to come back for some sugar for the road, didn't he? I heard you guys going at it not five minutes after that." Oh, no. "Well, I heard him more." Oh, Jesus, no. "He definitely doesn't sound the same as he does normally." Oh, sweet baby Jesus, no.

"Well, you know how it is–" I stopped her with a nervous chuckle. "But, hey, I've got ice cream melting. I better head inside and get it in the freezer," I said, holding up my bag to show her. "Good to see you, Ronnie," I chirped. You know, like a liar.

"Yeah, you too, Moira," she cooed as I hurried to my door, fumbling with my keys to unlock it. With an awkward smile and wave, I ducked inside, slamming the door and falling against it with a groan.

Fuck's sake. I hadn't cared if the neighbors could hear before, caught up in the whirlwind of passionate romance and mind blowing sex, but now I had the very real concern about them hearing, especially this week without Michael here. Veronica would absolutely notice if I was still getting noisily fucked while he was gone. We were going to have to be careful.

—

I spent the remainder of the afternoon keeping myself busy with minor chores. Neglected housework is the sort of thing that adds up quickly and catches you by surprise, so it was best to save myself the headache and keep up with it. Later in the evening, I started getting hungry, but I'd been so distracted by the job business that I forgot to make dinner, so I ordered a couple pizzas from the local place. They made the big ones there and I knew Loki could probably eat an entire one by himself and still be peckish afterward. I ate dinner alone, had a quick wash and got changed for bed, this time in a simple T-shirt and panties.

The frustrating thing about our arrangement was that I had no way to contact him while he was gone, and I didn't know when to expect him to be back. Until now, he'd always shown up some time after dinner or around bedtime, so I tried to wait up for him, but as the sun went down and evening wore on into night time, I started to get worried that maybe he wouldn't be able to come tonight. Who knew what he'd gotten roped into up there? Over there? …There. Then, of course, my overthinking brain started trying to convince me that last night, with all of its emotional intimacy, had held some air of finality and maybe he wasn't coming back at all. My emotions were so fragile right now, I honestly thought that would actually kill me. I wanted to stay up longer, but I was pretty sure I would only sit there obsessing about things, then I wouldn't sleep and then I wouldn't make it to the pub tomorrow. I needed to be ready in the event they wanted to put me behind the bar for a test run before the weekend hit. So, much as I didn't want to, I crawled into my bed alone, hugging a pillow as a pitiful substitute for the body I'd so quickly gotten accustomed to falling asleep with. It took longer than usual to fall asleep, but I eventually did.

Some time later, could have been minutes, could have been hours, I woke up to the sound of a dull thud and a muffled, but clearly irritated voice. I blinked and rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I sat up, straining to listen for more. Another thud, closer, followed by:

"Streðmik," the voice, clearer now that it was near enough to the bedroom, cursed through the door. Well, I assumed it was a curse, there's just sort of a tone one uses in that context that seems to translate to every language. I crawled out of bed and tip-toed to the door, pressing my ear to it and listening again just to be certain of what to expect on the other side. Some muttered words I couldn't make out, then a growled "tikdropi!" There was no doubt who that growl belonged to, so I turned the knob and pulled the doors open, revealing Loki in the dark hallway, swaying and struggling with the knob on the guest room.

"Loki?" He seemed to startle at my voice and turned to look, glancing confusedly back and forth between me and the closed door in front of him, blinking owlishly, before giving me a broad smile and scooping me up in a bear hug.

"Moira! Elskan mín, yndiðmitt, " he exclaimed as he squeezed me, mumbling a lot of other things, none of which made any sense because I didn't understand Old Norse, or whatever language he was speaking. Although, to be perfectly honest, he could just be reading me my shopping list in that language and it would still be sexy as Hell.

"Loki, honey, I don't understand what you're saying," I said finally. As much as I liked hearing his native tongue, it wouldn't make for good conversation if I couldn't comprehend it. He paused and pulled back a little to look at me as he seemed to realize he was saying the wrong things.

"Oh, I'm sor–I'm sorry," he hiccuped, "I was saying that I'm so happy to see you, how much I missed you while I was gone." His words were a little slow and slightly slurred.

"Are you drunk," I asked in surprise. I didn't even know he could get drunk, and wondered absently how much he had to drink to get him to this state

"No," he replied firmly. "I'm not drunk, but I am full. Very full," he snickered, but I guess my vacant stare told him that I didn't get the joke. "Uh… yes. Just a little." He released me with one arm to hold his hand up, showing me what just a little meant with his fingers, but swayed too much to one side. He nearly lost his balance, and barely caught himself on the door jamb before he fell over on me.

"Jesus, get in here," I urged, tugging him through the door and he stumbled to follow, staggering a little to one side and caught his thigh on the edge of my dresser with a hiss.

"Meyla krafla mikli þur syr!" He groaned and doubled over to hold his injured appendage.

"Oh, my god," I muttered as he righted himself, and pulled him through the room toward the bed. "Come on, come lay down."

"My lady, are you trying to get me into bed," he demanded, catching me around the middle and wrapping his arms around me from behind. "You needn't be so forward, madam, I will come willingly–happily, but far from quietly." His little drunken giggle tickled my neck where he had his mouth pressed against my skin.

"Ha-ha, very funny," I laughed sarcastically as I faced him and pushed his arms off of my waist, turning us so the backs of his legs pressed into the mattress and he plopped down onto it with a little bounce of the inner springs. While I tugged his shirt up, he offered no assistance, only flopping uselessly until I freed his arms, and searched my body blindly with his hands once they were free. It wasn't something I was used to, but I didn't mind his harmlessly lascivious behavior, it was kind of cute. Once I yanked the tunic shirt off his head, I shoved him with a hand on his face and a good humored chuckle, and he landed flat on his back. I barely escaped joining him, not for his lack of trying, and knelt at the side of the bed to pull the boots off of his feet. He sat up and made a grab for me again as I stood and. Had he been any less inebriated, I wouldn't have been able to evade him, but I was able to dance just out of his reach. He grumbled in frustration at being so thwarted in his attempts to get me onto the bed with him. "You stay right here, I'll be back," I instructed, pointing to the bed for emphasis. I hurried out of the room and came back with a large glass of water, and urged him to sit up and drink it. He protested with a groan, and it took some cajoling, but I managed to convince him to cooperate. "Have you eaten anything? Please don't tell me you've been drinking on an empty stomach."

"Of course I did…" he assured me with the kind of confidence one can only have while drunk, and then hesitated with an uncertain frown, no doubt struggling to get his soggy brain to recall what and when that was. "I'm sure I did… I think I did?" I cradled his face to see him better and he flinched with another hiss as I touched his cheek.

"What–" I leaned over to switch the bedside lamp on, and gasped as I saw him, squinting and blinking in the sudden light. "Oh, my god, Loki! What happened to you?" I exclaimed, studying the bruise that stained his cheek near his eye and the cut on his lip.

"I don't remember," he mumbled, not looking at me. I didn't want to accuse him of lying to me right now, but I could tell his excuse was less than truthful. Someone hit him, probably more than once, and anger simmered under my skin and in my stomach at the thought. But, for whatever reason, he didn't want to tell me right now, and he wasn't exactly in a condition to have a rational discussion or be lectured about it.

"Okay," I sighed. "Hang on, one more time, I'll be right back."

"No," he whined, grabbing my hands and holding me in place.

"I'll be right back, Loki. You need to eat something before you go to sleep, and I need to take care of these," I explained patiently, gesturing to his battered face. He finally acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, and I went to the kitchen and returned with a couple of warmed slices of pizza, as well as a handful of first aid supplies to tend to his wounds.

"What is that," he asked with a distrusting stare at the plate in my hand.

"Pizza, it's great drunk food, so hush and eat it. Let me take care of you," I ordered him firmly. He arched his brows and straightened up with a sassy little head wobble.

"Yes, my lady, as you wish." With that, he took the food from me while I gingerly cleaned his lip, and spread some bruise cream on his cheek. Had I not already been prepared for how quickly he could eat, I would have been alarmed and worried about him choking on it as he did so.

When I was sure he'd been fed and watered to my satisfaction, I helped him get into the bed and crawled in behind him, pulling the blankets up around us. After I switched the lamp off and laid down, he rolled toward me, pressing his face into the curve of my neck with his cold cheek on my warm skin. He wrapped his arms tight around me again, one about my waist and the other across my shoulders, with his hips wedged firmly between my legs, and let out a deep, satisfied sigh. I rested my arms around his broad shoulders and laid my cheek on his crown as I settled in for sleep.

But he wasn't quite ready for bed like I was, and he began to nuzzle my neck as he rocked subtly against my lower body.

"Loki," I warned gently. He groaned softly, one hand sliding down to squeeze my bottom as he pressed himself against me, evidently eagerly aroused already, before smoothing it along the back of my thigh to hitch it more securely over his hip. "Stop that and go to sleep, okay?"

"But, I want you," he complained, flexing into me and nipping at my throat with his teeth and lips.

"And you can have me," I promised and he made a happy little grumbling noise, just before I burst his horny little bubble. "In the morning, when you're sober." He started to protest again, but I stopped him before he could formulate an argument. "You're drunk, sweetie. I won't have sex with you like this."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he snorted with drunken derision. Now, I knew he wasn't talking about me, because I'd never even seen him tipsy, let alone drunk before, and the only conclusion I could come to is that someone, more than likely multiple someones, had used his drunkenness as their ticket to get in his pants in the past. They always said Loki had made his rounds with the ladies, but I'd assumed that was entirely voluntary on his part, if it were true at all. I never considered this alternative.

"You can't consent to anything like this, it would be wrong to take advantage of you in this condition," I told him levelly, carefully pulling him back so he could see me and know I was serious. I held his face in my hands, carefully stroking my thumb over his injured cheeks. "If you'd told me before you started drinking that drunk sex was okay with you, then I'd have as much of it as you wanted. But I won't until you say so with a clear head." His cloudy, hooded eyes studied me, blinking slowly while he thought about what I'd said.

"Are you protecting me, my little dove," he mumbled with a dreamy smile.

"Somebody has to, my big honey bear," I grinned. His eyes widened minutely and his brows twitched.

"What's a honey bear?"

"It's a little bear shaped jar with honey in it, kinda this color sometimes," I explained, fingering his warm golden red curls. He frowned and I giggled. "What? You don't like that?"

"No, I–I like it," he admitted bashfully and ducked his face back into my neck. We rewrapped our arms again, each nuzzling the other, he in my neck and myself in his hair as we settled in for sleep.

"Goodnight, honey bear," I whispered, rubbing his shoulders and kissing the top of his head, and he hummed drowsily. "I love you," I told him, but he didn't answer, this time he'd fallen asleep before I did.

—

Unlike every other day, the first thing I was aware of the next morning was not light or sound, but sensation. Specifically, pressure on my mons and a gentle pulsing stroke of my lips, combined with waves of heat seeping through my panties. I sucked in a sharp breath as I surfaced into consciousness, and that pressure became more focused, pushing between my folds, and my hips arched to meet it. A low hum vibrated through me as broad shoulders kept my knees spread, and the stroking of my lips grew in heat and intensity. It was then that I realized the pulsing stroke was a mouth, the pressure now grinding into my clit was a nose, and the waves of heat was my lover's excited breath warming me. I moaned softly, arching my back as the sensations built, already wet before my panties had even been moved.

My eyes snapped open and I glanced down, expecting to see vibrant green irises piercing me with a lustful stare, but instead I only saw a large lump under the blankets that still covered me from the chest down. I could feel him down there, his arms wrapped around the backs of my legs, his big hands caressing my hips and holding me open while he teased me. Seeing Loki between my thighs was always such an arousing sight, I didn't think that not being able to see him would be, too. But, there was something about not knowing what he was doing, or being able to anticipate where he would touch next that was just as exciting, if not more so. I couldn't see him, I couldn't hold him, I could only writhe as his mouth grew more insistent, pressing his tongue against my center before dragging his teeth closed. I gasped and arched, driving my head back and gripping the pillow in my hands as I whimpered his name. Nearly desperate to feel his touch on my skin, I didn't make a peep when my panties were suddenly ripped off of me. They weren't any of the new ones, anyway, what did I care? Especially when his hungry mouth latched on, crushing his nose into my clit and sucking me into his mouth, sliding his tongue up the middle in a hard swipe, growling in pleasure at the taste of my arousal. He lapped at me, dipping his tongue inside and suckling on my inner lips, subtly shaking his head back and forth, up and down to tease me with his nose. My hips bucked and I stifled a groan, desperate to feel more of him, desperate to feel him inside me.

     Before I let out the sounds that were swelling in my throat, I slapped a hand over my mouth to quiet any extraneous noises. I didn't know what Veronica was doing today, if she was awake or present, but I couldn't risk her overhearing. I whimpered pathetically as Loki continued to push his face into my pussy. One hand slid back around to the front, carefully probing at my slick hole with two fingers while his tongue wagged across my hardened nub before easing them inside. I sank my teeth into the meaty part of my hand then, bemusedly noting the taste of blood in my mouth as his fingers curled inside of my trembling channel, beckoning me toward climax before I could even think to fight it. Panting into my palm, my sharp little sobs came out muffled and weak while he groaned against me. His tongue stroked down, with the very tip between my lips, the flat of it still cradling my clit as he kept his long fingers pumping and curling against the walls of my cunt, clenching and trembling through my orgasm. 

 

 

     When it finally subsided, he withdrew his fingers and licked a wide stripe up the middle, before kissing his way to my hip, over my stomach and up the middle of my chest. Undeterred and unbothered by the cotton Tshirt in the way, his hands followed, smoothing over my skin and groping at my breasts. His head finally peaked out from beneath the blankets, his hair was ruffled and messy, his face was flushed and damp in places, and those intense green eyes were wide with his desire. He grinned at me, no doubt satisfied by the way I struggled to breathe, and slid his hands up to lace his fingers with mine, inspecting the damage I'd inflicted on myself. Those eyes held mine as he brought my hand to his lips, swirling his tongue over the broken skin, collecting my blood and saliva, before sealing his mouth around it and drawing gently. I didn't have time to contemplate on vampire kinks, as Loki followed that action by interlocking our hands again, holding them down beside my head, and slanting his mouth over mine, not unlike the way he'd done underneath the blankets. The taste of my own blood and arousal mingled, and my responding moan was weak and confused–that shouldn't be so sexy, why was it so sexy? I returned his kiss eagerly, gripping his hips with my knees and was delighted, as well as relieved, to find he was already naked and hard when he pressed his length against me. We rocked in tandem, groaning into each other's mouths until he shifted just a little, and then he was slowly sinking inside. Groans turned into gasps as he filled me, and I sighed at the feel of his body meeting mine.

 

 

     "Oh, dúfa mín, ek fritþr þu. Ek er þin ok þu er mi," he murmured breathlessly as he began to move, the rhythmic push and pull that was now so familiar that I almost didn't remember a time before it. The emotion in his voice made my thundering heart clench in my chest, even though I had no idea what he was telling me. Whatever he was saying, he meant it and knowing him, it was probably tooth rottingly sweet. 

 

 

     We rocked slowly against each other, locking hands and lips between breathless moans. It wasn't until this moment that I realized that, of all the times we'd done this in the last week, we hadn't done this, we hadn't made love like this l, since our first time. Wild, furious fucking, sure, several times. Passion and need had taken precedence, while these unhurried movements and the gentle cresting of pleasure were foregone in favor of making the most of our limited time. But now, as we writhed in unison, with nothing and no one to get in our way we could take our time. Loki lifted his head, parting our lips with a deep sigh and trailing kisses over my cheek to my ear, flicking his tongue and taking the lobe between his teeth. I didn't usually like that, the feel of a cold tongue and the wet smacking sound so close to my ear would hit me like a glass of cold water, but as with everything he did to me, Loki was the exception and I tilted and turned my head with a moan to give him room to do whatever he wanted.

 

 

     As amazing as the slowly undulating movements felt, as much as I savored the tenderness, I was quickly reaching the point where I needed more. I clenched and bucked beneath him and he responded with a deep, repetitive swivel of his hips, hitting every spot that had me arching with need. He released my hands and reached down to hold my bottom up, changing our angle of contact while he dug into me. It took supreme effort to remember that I needed to be quiet, but it seemed like my prolonged silence was a personal challenge he was determined to meet. Then he started moaning into my neck, he knew how the lewd sounds and filthy words affected me, and he had no mercy, telling me how sweet I was, how delicious I felt on his cock, how he would live inside of me if he could. Of course it made me wetter, of course it had my body shivering with an approaching orgasm, of course–but I stayed quiet. That is, until his sounds of pleasure started mounting and growing louder, the soft moans turned into loud grunts as the pace picked up. I tried to cover his mouth with my hand, but he smirked and shook free, so I did the only other thing that my muddied brain could think to do: I tangled my fingers in his hair and pressed his face into my chest. Somehow through our grinding and rolling, my shirt had worked up over my breasts and he had no choice but to suffocate there or take a mouthful of nipple. 

Evidently, he found the latter to be the preferable option and latched onto it, taking more of my skin into his mouth than necessary, sucking hard and biting harder. I groaned desperately at the mix of pleasure and pain, and my climax washed over me. His fingers dug into my ass as his thrusts stuttered, adding even more of that erotic pain, and growled into my breast. He rode me hard, pumping me full of everything he had to give, until he collapsed on top of me, gasping for breath.

My limbs were heavy and I wanted nothing more than to drift back to sleep with him, but I could see that the sun was up already. True I didn't have anything all that pressing to worry about, but I didn't want to waste a single moment in his presence, and I had things to tell him.

"Well, good morning to you, too," I breathed sarcastically. Loki chuckled and nuzzled into my chest, making himself comfortable using my breasts as pillows as he laid heavily on me. If he was reluctant to move, I couldn't blame him.

"Oh, now you want to talk," Loki snarked, without lifting his head to look at me. "Just a moment ago, you seemed so eager to keep me quiet."

"For good reason," I shot back defensively. " My neighbor can hear us through the walls." He glanced up at the wall above our head with a wide eyes. "Yeah. She heard us after Michael left yesterday, she thinks he had to 'come back and get some sugar for the road,'" I shuddered, barely suppressing a gag.

"He's not getting any sugar, this is my sugar," he grumbled petulantly.

"Well, yeah, we know that, but she can't," I laughed. "It's fine if we make noise when he's home, she can just assume it's me and him, but she'll definitely notice if someone is still 'giving it to me pretty good' when she knows he's not here." It was obvious he didn't appreciate even the idea of Michael and I having sex, not that I could blame him, but at least he understood. "Besides," I added, coming up with an idea. "We can make a game out of it," I suggested, and he quirked a brow in question. "Try to be as quiet as we can, whoever cracks first loses."

"I could just use an enchantment, make our voices sound like something else," he offered. Well, that was certainly more practical, but where was the fun in it?

"We can save that, for if we find we're not capable of being quiet," I said with a grin.

"That's my girl," he chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to my lips. Already, I felt the tingling stir where we were still pressed together, even if he had slipped out of me at some point while we were talking, it would take nothing to get me worked up all over again. I never seemed to get enough of him. Reluctantly, very reluctantly, I pulled away.

"We should get up," I suggested.

"Ugh, but why," he groaned, cuddling himself back into my chest in protest.

"One, I have to pee, urgently;" I told him, pushing on his shoulders until he rolled to one side to let me up, and hurried to the bathroom. Once done in there, I came back and continued. "Two, I'm hungry; and three, there are things to do."

"Oh?" He asked, propping himself up on one elbow and leering at me while I stood there pantless.

"Yeah," I grinned. "I had a really good day yesterday."

You can find Chapter 6 here: https://at.tumblr.com/constablewafflebottom/dream-a-little-dream-of-me/cdzybpfoooiu

Chapter 8: coming soon!

And the Master List here:

https://at.tumblr.com/constablewafflebottom/master-list/wmmq0h7adu6s

-------

Translations:

Streðmik- Old Norse, fuck me

tikdropi- Old Norse, tik is bitch (as in a female dog), dropi is son of

Elskan mín- Icelandic endearment, my love/darling

yndiðmitt- Icelandic endearment, my little sweetie

Meyla krafla mikli þur syr- Old Norse curse, Child born of a long dead sow

dúfa mín- Old Norse, my dove

ek fritþr þu- Old Norse, i love you

Ek er þin ok þu er mi- Old Norse, i am yours and you are mine

[quickspinner]

Hello 👋🏽, hope you’re doing good 😌. I was intrigued by the Hallmark intro WIP ⚠️

WIP Asks (for reference, I've got asks for vipernette, honeymoon cruise sprint, and naginette scraps. you can still send an ask for what you want a peek at)

Oh man, I've struggled so much with this one. The Hallmark AU wasn't planned, it just kind of happened by accident as part of the prompt month I was doing. It turned into a whole big thing and ever since I finished it, I've been meaning to repost it on AO3 as its own story so that people can find it easier. I got it in my head that I could write a few bits and pieces to add to it just to spice up the reposting, and then...I didn't actually do that and so I still haven't done the repost because I am continuously vacillating between just do it and repost it the way it is, you can always add stuff later and but it would be better to do just do these few pieces and post it with the new content and so I have neither written the new pieces nor reposted the original. Total paralysis. Very embarassing.

Anyway one of the ideas I was toying with was having a sort of prelude where Luka makes the decision to leave the rock star life behind, but I don't know, I got all up in my head about it and couldn't make up my mind, so now it's just...sitting there.

He sat at the mirror in his dressing room, staring dully at his reflection. 

It wasn’t any one thing, really. It wasn’t that he objected to makeup or jewelry or hair dye. He’d worn all those things voluntarily before now, just not to this degree, or in these colors.

It was just that this...didn’t feel like his face anymore. 

“Killer show tonight, Luke!” Jagged boomed, bursting through the door. 

“Luka,” Luka murmured under his breath, but he knew Jagged didn’t hear. 

“The lighting effect on that jacket was killer, you looked fantastic! Now that was rock ‘n roll.” 

That had been ridiculous. Luka was lucky he’d even hit the right chord in the dark, dazzled by the LED tubes sewn into his jacket. Though he’d had to prove he could do it to keep Bob Roth from playing a recording instead. Luka would rather have died. 

“And you played the hell out of that set!” 

Luka couldn’t handle anymore. 

“Dad,” he said, and though his voice wasn’t strong, Jagged stopped talking. Luka took a deep breath, and lifted a trembling hand to lay it on top of the stack of papers next to him. “I’m not signing the contract.”

Jagged sucked in a sharp breath, and paused for a moment before he finally said, with very un-Jagged-like gentleness, “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get any more concessions than we have, son.” He came up behind Luka, putting his hands on Luka’s shoulders and looking at him in the mirror. Luka’s hand curled into a fist. Look at me, he wanted to say. Not him. “Maybe two more seasons,” Jagged urged, a hint of pleading in in his voice, and Luka could see in the way his brow pinched that he knew what Luka was about to say. “You just have to hang in there.

Luka took another steadying breath. “I can’t do this for two more years, Dad. I think I can hold out to the end of the current contract, but that’s it. I can’t—” His voice broke and he swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be him anymore.” He gestured at his reflection. 

He saw Jagged’s lips press together, and waited for the usual argument. He’s you, Luka. There’s no difference except what you imagine there to be. Instead Jagged put his hands on Luka’s chair, and turned it around until Luka’s back was to the mirror, and crouched down until they were eye to eye. “Okay, son,” he said, and put his hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Okay, Luka.” 

Luka leaned forward impulsively and hugged the older man. Jagged patted his back, and didn’t say anything about the way Luka’s shoulders shook under his hand, nor the smudge of makeup on the shoulder of his jacket. 

When Luka sat back up, Jagged slapped his knee and then straightened. “All right, let’s figure out how to get you through the rest of this tour. Bob’s not going to like this, and he’s going to pull every dirty trick he can think of to get you back on stage, so we need to make sure we’re covering ourselves. I’ll get Penny.” 

Luka passed the next few months in some kind of fugue state. He tried to pull himself together for his performances—he owed his fans that much at least—but the only thing really clear to him was the fight over the music he had been writing for his next album. It galled him, but eventually Luka agreed to sign the rights over to Roth Records in exchange for severing his contract without further penalty. He probably could have taken the label to court, but not only would that have most likely closed any future doors for him in the industry, it would have meant months of legal battles and being hounded by the press, and by that time Luka was just ready to go home. 

The night before he left, Jagged’s stylist cut his hair as a farewell favor, shaving off all the colored tips to leave plain black instead. Luka put plain black studs in his ears and swapped clothes with the least trendy intern he could find that was about his size. There was no disguising his guitar case and he couldn’t bear to leave it behind, even to be shipped later, so he packed the rest of his belongings in a duffel bag and slung it on his back over the case, hoping it would disguise enough of it. 

He was careful to act normal when he left. He kept his face slightly averted from the crowd of press, but otherwise, he tried to act like any other label employee heading home from a late night at work. His lips twisted in a wry smile when it seemed like he’d gotten away with it. It just went to prove his point, that Luke Stone and Luka Couffaine had become two such radically different people that no one even saw the real him anymore.

Luka got on the bus—a regular public transit bus, with cramped seats in tight rows and barely enough room to stow his guitar in the luggage rack—and took a deep breath, leaning his head against the window as he watched the city slide past. He didn’t feel as relieved as he expected...but he supposed that would come with time.