#to the occasional decision to have two people say a line together

[bananonbinary]

if y’all aren’t listening to re: dracula because “oh its just the same as daily dracula just aloud” you are missing out on some incredibly chilling moments

[soaps-mohawk]

The Angel and The Devil

Kyletober Day 17: Double Penetration

Summary: In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most.

Pairing: Incubus!Kyle x reader x Incubus!Johnny

Word Count: 6,688 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, anal sex, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), munch!Kyle, costumes, demons, symbolism, slight coercion, alcohol, language

A/N: And here we are! We've arrived at the end of Kyletober for what I think is my favorite fic of the month. It's been a fun month and I've had a good time with these fics and seeing everyone's reactions. I hope you've enjoyed the last month as well and Happy Halloween everyone!

MASTERLIST

The bar is full of all sorts of characters and creatures tonight. 

It’s Halloween which means the bar is fuller than usual, even on a weekend. It had been a last minute decision which led you to the bar. After a rough day at work you needed a pick-me-up and so you had gone to the nearest store, grabbed one of the few remaining costumes off the shelf in favor of not sticking out, and then headed to your favorite bar. 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

You’re beginning to regret not looking closer at the costume you grabbed. The cheap angel wings are too tight, the elastic straps digging into your underarms. The halo bobs precariously on your head with every movement, and you’re half tempted to just take them off and shove them in a bin. 

“Yes, actually.” You say, turning to the Frankenstein that has saddled up to you at the crowded bar. “It means I have to listen to cheesy pickup lines all night.” 

You ignore the jeers of Frankenstein’s friends as you turn back to your drink, casting your gaze around the bar again. You’re just here to numb the sting of a particularly awful day at work, and nothing more. 

At least, until your gaze lands on them again. 

In the back of the bar in a booth just barely visible, they are seated. You’ve been eyeing them since you first caught a glimpse, almost drawn to them in a magnetic haze. You can’t help but look, even if you run the risk of being caught staring. You have yet to be so unlucky, as their attention seems to be on each other the most. 

It’s not fair how beautiful some people are. How blessed others can be with good genetics and decent bone structure. The two at the back of the bar may as well be models. 

They’re...beautiful.

The one with the mohawk is all playful grins and boisterous laughter. There’s a roughness to him, more handsy than the other one, even as his bright blue eyes scan the bar occasionally. The other is softer with near perfect skin, short cropped curls, and the most dazzling smile you think you’ve ever seen. That smile still holds a teasing tilt to it though, but he’s not as blatant with it as mohawk. 

The devil horns on his head don’t fit him. He should be the one dressed as the angel. 

They’re both wearing cheesy devil horns and you suppose the matching tails. There’s a cheap plastic pitchfork leaned against the booth next to mohawk. The look fits him perfectly with his devilish grin, though you suppose the devil is supposed to be beautiful, so perhaps it does fit his partner as well. 

You knew they were together as soon as you laid eyes on them. It’s not hard to tell. How close they sit, the way lips brush ears when they lean in to whisper. Smirks cocking lips in upwards turns as hands move under the table. They’re a beautiful couple. Far out of your league. 

Yet you can’t help but imagine it. Screw the angel and devil on your shoulders, you want two devils. One in front, one in back. You can almost imagine the heat their bodies give off, the push of solid muscle on each side, sandwiching you between them. 

Your teeth sink into your lip at the idea. 

You turn your gaze back to them, nearly jumping as you meet a pair of bright blue eyes. You’re shocked for a moment, not expecting him to be looking right at you. His eyes have passed over you a number of times as he’s looked around the bar, but this is the first time he’s ever looked at you. There’s no mistake. He’s not looking at anyone else. His eyes are locked on yours, almost as if he had read your mind, seen your inner thoughts about the two of them. 

Something holds you there, the magnetic energy that had drawn you to them strengthening. Heat pulses between your thighs as mohawk’s tongue darts out wetting his bottom lip. Those lips lift in a smirk and suddenly the spell is broken. 

You whip back around to face the bar, cheeks blazing. The halo on top of your head bobs at the sudden movement, nearly pulling the headband from your head. You steady it with a hand, taking a deep breath. Shaky fingers curl around your drink and you down the rest of it, ignoring the burning in your throat from the strong liquor. 

Of course eventually you’d get caught staring. It’s not like you were being very inconspicuous, out here eyeballing them blatantly. 

“Can I get you another?” 

The voice makes you jump, the empty glass in your hand nearly clattering onto the bar. Your head whips around, eyes widening as you stare at the angel before you. Well...devil before you.

He’s even more beautiful up close. His skin is perfect aside from the scar on his cheek. His eyes are deep brown, and the longer you stare at them, the more you feel like you’re sinking into their depths. You get a firsthand look at that dazzling smile as he flashes one at you, showing off perfect white teeth. 

There’s an edge to that smile, though, something in the back of your mind starting to itch. 

“Can I buy you another round?” He asks again in that smooth, honeyed tone. It’s captivating, almost floating straight into your ears like a song. 

He’s staring at you, waiting patiently for your response. You clear your throat, nodding before you can even think about it. “Y-Yeah. I could go for another.” Your hand reaches up, steadying the halo again as it bobs back and forth. 

His eyes watch your hand for a moment before he grins, dropping his gaze back to yours. He flags the bartender, giving him your order. You’re too busy staring at him, enraptured by his beauty to wonder how he knew what you were drinking. 

“Would it be too cliche to ask what a pretty angel like you is doing here alone?” He asks, leaning against the side of the bar, blocking you from the werewolf next to you that had been eyeing you as you stared across the bar. 

Your face warms, a laugh leaving your lips. “A little maybe.” You should stop there. “Getting some stress relief from that 9 to 5 grind.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them. You’ve lost complete control of your body and your mind in his presence. 

Something is wrong. 

Alarm bells go off in the back of your mind as he turns to the bartender. He slips a note across the bar, telling the bartender to keep the change. You had glimpsed it before it disappeared in the bartender’s hand. It was far more than two drinks would cost. 

The bad feeling disappears from your mind as he turns back to face you, both of your drinks in hand. “Why don’t you come join us?” 

Say no! 

You nod, almost feeling like you’re in a trance. “Yeah, okay.” 

He grins, his eyes flashing with something too fast for you to tell what it is. “Come on.” He motions with his head. 

You slide off the bar stool, the two words almost feeling like a final signature on a contract, sealing your fate for the evening. 

You won’t be leaving alone. 

Your feet move automatically as you follow him across the bar to the booth where the other is still sitting. A tingle runs down your spine as he continues to stare at you. You feel almost like prey being stared down by a hungry predator. 

Perhaps you are the prey. The angel caught between the claws of a devil.

You slide into the booth without even having to be told to, your body still moving automatically as you wind up between the two. Your drink is set down in front of you, and you don’t bother to notice how the one in front of mohawk hasn’t been touched. 

“Aren’t ye a bonnie little thing.” Mohawk says, draping his arm across the back of the booth. “Call me Johnny. That’s Kyle.” He says, nodding to the one on the other side of you. 

You tell him your name, still feeling like you’re in a daze, trapped under his sharp blue gaze. Your wings move slightly, his fingers playing with the feathers strapped to your back. It feels almost ironic being trapped between them. 

You certainly won’t be feeling much like an angel by the time the night is over. 

“Saw ye lookin’ from the bar.” He continues, a smirk playing on his lips. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you can’t tell why. There’s something dangerous in there, some sort of threat raising alarm bells in the back of your mind. “Pretty little angel hoping to catch the attention of a couple of devils, huh?” He adjusts the twisted elastic strap of your wings. It makes your stomach clench, having his hand so close to you, his knuckles brushing against the side of your breast. 

Something feels off, some primal part of your brain screaming, but you can’t quite hear what it’s saying. You’re too caught up in his magnetic presence to care about much else.  

“Like what ye see, angel?” He asks. 

You nod, still caught under his gaze. Your brain feels foggy, like you’re slipping into a daze. For a moment you panic that someone might have drugged your drink, that Kyle might have slipped something in while you weren’t looking. It’s easily done. All it takes is a second and you let him carry the drink all the way from the bar to the table. 

Hands turn you around, the hazy fog disappearing as you meet Kyle’s brown eyes. Sudden clarity washes over you as you’re turned away from Johnny, almost as if he had been holding you under a spell. There’s still a faint buzzing in the back of your mind as you stare at Kyle and his soft grin. It’s so soft and comforting compared to Johnny’s intensity. 

“Such a pretty thing.” Kyle says, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is electric as his fingers brush against you, your skin tingling all the way down to your toes and he’s barely touched you. He adjusts your halo as it wobbles, still holding your gaze. 

“Been watching ye since you walked in.” Johnny says, suddenly closer behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck. 

You know that’s not true. 

You don’t care. 

“Knew ye were watchin’ us.” Johnny continues, his lips brushing the back of your ear. “Knew ye were interested.” He chuckles. “A little angel interested in a couple devils.”

A shudder runs through you as he presses a kiss to the skin behind your ear. His lips are warm, almost hot against your skin. 

You feel warm again, your mind starting to go hazy as Johnny’s lips press soft kisses against your skin. Kyle’s hand drops to your thigh, fingers trailing up your jeans. You almost wish he’d slip that hand between your thighs, but instead he skirts it around to the outside, trailing those fingers up to your hip. 

A couple devils indeed. 

“Well?” Kyle asks, snapping you back into awareness. Johnny is pressed fully against your back, now his lips almost lazily brushing your skin. “Are you interested?” 

Say no. 

Some deep part of your brain is screaming, sounding off all the alarms and raising all the flags, yet you can’t bring yourself to listen to it, much less care. You’re in too deep and the only way out is to go deeper. 

You’re not sure you want to stop. 

You nod, your lips parting as Johnny presses a searing kiss to your skin. 

“Need ye to say it, hen.” Johnny says, his hand closing around your side. 

“Yes.” You breathe. The words feel like the fall of a gavel, the stamp of approval on that contract you signed by agreeing to join them in the booth. You’ve sealed your fate for the night. 

There’s no going back now. 

“Good.” Kyle says, leaning forward to kiss you. 

His lips are soft, incredibly soft as they press against yours. He tastes like liquor, whatever sweet cocktail he had been sipping on. A quiet sound leaves your lips as his tongue presses into your mouth, his hand reaching up to grip your chin. You’re lost in the kiss, mind going blank as your body begins to tingle. Your panties are quickly dampening, the fabric sticking to your skin. Another hand drags up your leg, and you begin to curse your decision to wear pants. Who wears pants to a bar? 

Someone who didn’t expect to pick up anyone tonight. 

Or, well...get picked up. 

Johnny’s hand squeezes your thigh, his chuckle vibrating against your back. “Gettin’ her all worked up.” He presses his face against your neck, Kyle tilting your head so he has more room. “Can almost taste it.” 

His lips brush the side of your neck, his hand trailing higher on your leg. For a moment you hope he’ll take pity on you and slip it between your thighs, but instead he slides it higher, slipping it under your shirt. 

You pull away from Kyle’s lips as Johnny’s warm hand meets your skin. It’s electric, his touch like fire against your body. Your head tilts back against his shoulder, a moan slipping from your lips as your pussy begins to throb. Johnny chuckles again, Kyle’s mouth moving to your neck. One of your hands grips the edge of the table as Johnny’s fingers brush the skin of your stomach, holding on for dear life. 

All he’s doing is touching your skin. What is it going to feel like when he finally sinks his fingers between your legs?

You let out another moan as his hand slips higher, skirting dangerously close to your breasts. Reality slams back into you for a moment. Sure, you might be tucked in a back corner of the bar, but there’s still people around you. You’re still in a public place. You cast a nervous glance around the bar as Johnny’s hand cups your breast under your shirt. 

No one is looking at you. 

It’s almost like they can’t see the three of you at all. 

“I think she’s ready.” Johnny says, pulling his face from your neck as his hand squeezes your breast through your bra. 

Kyle hums, pressing one last searing kiss to your throat before he pulls his head away. “I think you’re right.” 

“C’mon kitten. Let’s go somewhere more private.” Johnny all but growls in your ear. 

You don’t remember the taxi ride home. You don’t remember getting up the stairs to your apartment or opening the door. You don’t remember telling them where you live at all. 

They’re on you as soon as you reach your bedroom, sandwiching you between them again. Johnny in the back, Kyle in front. 

You don’t remember telling them where your bedroom is. 

“Look at her.” Kyle coos, holding your jaw in his hand. His thigh is pressed between your legs, the seam of your jeans pushing deliciously against your throbbing slit as you grind against his leg. 

“Needy little thing.” Johnny groans, his hips grinding against your ass. 

“Could say the same about you.” Kyle smirks, his hand sliding down to your neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there, solidifying the silent agreement. 

They’re in charge. 

You’re just along for the ride. 

“Want to taste her.” Kyle groans against your lips, his thigh pushing harder against your clothed pussy. 

“Always so impatient.” Johnny says, undoing the button and zipper on your pants. “Yer in for a treat, hen.” 

Your feet leave the floor as Johnny picks you up far too easily. You drop on your bed, the mattress creaking as you bounce on it. His hands curl around the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down your legs in one pull. He spreads your legs apart, staring down at your panties. They’re nothing special, certainly nothing you’d wear if you had been expecting something like this. 

You just went in for a quick drink.

Now look at you. 

“Would ye fuckin’ look at that.” Johnny says, whistling quietly as he stares at the damp spot on your panties. 

“I think you were right.” Kyle says, resting his chin on Johnny’s shoulder, staring down at you as well. “She is ready.” 

“Fuck.” Johnny curses, reaching down to tug your panties off too. You suddenly feel exposed, spread open before them. It’s been a long time since you’ve brought a stranger home from the bar, much less two. 

“She’s thinking too much.” Kyle says, pushing Johnny to the side so he can kneel down in front of you. He tugs your hips until they rest right on the edge of the bed, tossing your legs over his shoulders. The halo on your head shifts at the movement, nearly coming off. You’re still wearing your costume. 

So are they. 

“Then ye best fix that.” Johnny says, pulling his shirt over his head. 

You want to stare at his exposed skin, but you’re distracted as Kyle’s tongue drags through your folds. He knows what he’s doing, applying just enough pressure to make your pussy clench. No time is wasted as he dives right in, his mouth closing over your clit as he slurps at your drenched pussy. He’s like a starving man, pushing his tongue into your hole before licking his way back up to your clit, tasting every inch of you that he can. It’s like only you can satiate him and his need, his hands curling around your thighs to keep you pressed up against his face with no fear of suffocation or drowning. That’s a good thing, because with the way you’re gushing on his face, that may be an actual fear. 

The bed dips as Johnny kneels behind you, crawling up so his knees are beside your head. You tilt your head back, expecting a cock in your face but instead you’re surprised to find him still in his briefs. He’s hard and bulging through the fabric, but still covered nonetheless. His hands land on your chest, slowly dragging down to your breasts. He palms them over your shirt, his thumbs circling over your nipples through the fabric. 

“Johnny loves a good pair of tits.” Kyle says, pulling away for just a moment before his lips wrap around your clit again. 

Your hips jerk, another moan leaving your lips as Kyle gets back to work. Johnny finally relieves you of the angel wings, pulling the elastic down your arms before tossing the cheap cardboard and feathers to the side. His hands slide over your breasts again before trailing downward to the bottom of your shirt. His fingers curl around the fabric, yanking it up, somehow managing to pull your bra with it. Your halo comes off with your shirt and you half expect it to hit the floor with the wings, but instead Johnny pushes it back onto your head. Your shirt and bra get tossed to the floor with the rest of your clothes. 

You’re the only one fully naked, and for some reason that leaves you feeling very exposed. 

You don’t get much of a chance to dwell on that tickling still itching in the back of your mind as Johnny’s hands brush your skin again, his palms cupping your breasts. He leans over you, a set of dog tags hanging in your face. You stare up at them as they dangle over you, swinging back and forth as Johnny massages your breasts. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He groans, squeezing them gently. 

You glance down, just catching the look Kyle gives him as he licks another line up your slit. 

A yelp leaves your lips as Johnny’s fingers tug on your nipple, a yelp of surprise more than pain. It feels good, something you’ve never been able to feel there before. Then again, everything feels good right now. 

They play your body like an instrument, Johnny teasing your breasts while Kyle licks and sucks on your pussy. They’re so intune with each other, Johnny’s fingers almost a mirror of Kyle’s mouth. It’s almost eerie how they intuitively seem to know what the other is doing, and how to make you feel the most pleasure. 

They’ve done this before. 

Your slick is soaking your comforter but you don’t care, too busy being caught up in the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You’re just getting started and already your toes are curling, heels digging into Kyle’s back as you get closer and closer to the edge. You’ve never felt this way with anyone else, an energy thrumming beneath your skin. You feel electric, you feel alive. 

“Gonna cum!” You gasp, heels digging harder into Kyle’s back. He offers no complaint, sucking harder on your clit. 

Johnny tugs on your nipples at the same time, intensifying the sensation as your back arches, cumming all over Kyle’s face. He licks up every last drop, pushing you almost to the point of overstimulation. It’s burning deep within you, your fingers curling around the comforter as you pant, sweat starting to bead on your skin. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. 

He finally gives you some relief, pulling away from your pussy before you can reach that point of the uncomfortable sensation becoming pleasurable again. It was right there, right on the edge but you’re denied that feeling as he sits back on his heels. His face is shiny with your slick as he lets your trembling legs drop so they’re hanging over the side of the bed. You can’t move, far too dizzy with pleasure still from your first orgasm. 

It’s only the first and you’re already feeling almost drunk on the sensation. 

“Good?” Kyle asks, pushing himself up to stand. 

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah. Yeah it was.” 

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips for a moment. “Taste good.” He licks his lips. “Sweet like sugar.” 

“I want a taste.” Johnny says, approaching Kyle. 

For a moment you think he’s going to dip down between your legs next, but instead his hand closes around the back of Kyle’s neck, pulling his face close. Johnny’s tongue licks at Kyle’s skin, lapping at your shiny juices still coating his face. Kyle offers no complaint, his lips parted as Johnny licks him. It ends in a kiss, all tongues and teeth as their bodies press tightly together. Your toes curl again, pussy throbbing at the sight of them together. 

You could probably get off just watching them together. 

Kyle’s hands slide down Johnny’s sides to his ass, pulling their bodies closer. They grind against each other, Johnny almost whining into Kyle’s mouth. You’re more than happy to watch them together, leaning up on your elbows so you can see them better. 

“We’re neglecting our date.” Kyle says against Johnny’s lips. 

“That’s not very kind of us.” Johnny responds, pressing another searing kiss to Kyle’s lips before they turn to look at you. 

You gulp, suddenly feeling very small under their gaze as they stare at you like two hungry predators. Excitement thrums under your skin at the promises their eyes hold. The foreplay was exactly that, a warm up for what is to come. 

You’ll certainly be doing a lot of that tonight. 

They break apart, the bulges between their legs prominent as they stand before you. 

“Tell us where ye want us, hen.” Johnny says, stepping up closer so he can drag his fingers over your thigh. Goosebumps form on your skin from the soft drag of his calloused fingers against the sensitive skin. 

Your eyes dart between them a couple times, your pussy fluttering at the ideas flashing through your head. 

One on each shoulder. 

“One in front, one in back.” You stutter out, another rush of arousal coursing through you. 

“Fuck yes!” Johnny cheers, pulling away from you to drop his briefs instantly. 

“You just made his night, love.” Kyle grins, face still shiny from a mix of your cum and Johnny’s saliva. 

Johnny’s briefs land somewhere as Kyle begins to undress, pulling his shirt over his head. You take the opportunity to truly look at them. They’re both fit and muscular, Johnny thicker and broader than Kyle’s lean figure. Kyle’s muscles flex as he reaches down, undoing his belt and jeans, giving you a good look at his abs. You lick your lips, watching his pants fall and then his briefs. 

Both of them are still wearing their devil horns, but neither of them make a move to take them off. 

“Lube?” Johnny asks. 

“Drawer.” You say, pointing with your toes towards the dresser. 

Johnny opens the top drawer, letting out a groan when he sees your panties. 

“You’re going to lose a pair.” Kyle says, maneuvering you on the bed. He’s finally naked, cock hanging heavy between his legs. He’s almost perfectly built, thicker than he is long with a little curve. 

Your pussy gushes at the sight of him. 

He’s perfect. 

He gives you a grin, something shivering down your spine as you stare at him. Warning bells are going off in your head, but they’re too drowned out by the need pulsing in your brain. Kyle lays himself out on the bed, fisting his cock in his hand. He relaxes back against the pillows, slowly pumping his cock as he stares at you with lidded eyes. You kneel between his legs, batting his hand away so you can wrap yours around his length. You lean down, dropping a glob of spit onto the tip of his cock before spreading it on his skin with your hand to lessen the friction. 

You meet his gaze again, a shiver running down your spine as you find yourself captivated in those deep brown eyes. They look almost black in the light of the lamp on your desk behind you. They opted for that light instead of the overhead one. You don’t think too much about it. You always hate the bright fluorescent overhead light anyway. 

The bed dips behind you as Johnny kneels on the mattress, his hands maneuvering you so you’re on your knees, your ass in the air. His hands smooth over your ass as you continue lazily pumping Kyle’s cock. The cool drip of lube on your ass makes you jump, your hand squeezing around Kyle for a moment. He lets out a groan, his head thumping back against the headboard. You keep that pressure as Johnny’s finger circles your hole, spreading the lube around the tight ring of muscle. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, trying not to squeeze your hand any tighter around Kyle’s cock as Johnny pushes the tip of his finger past that ring of muscle. More lube hits your ass as his finger sinks deeper and deeper in. 

You’re going to need more than one finger, from the glimpse you caught of his cock. 

You close your lips around Kyle’s tip as Johnny continues to work you open on his fingers, pushing a second one in with more lube. He’s cautious and gentle, something you wouldn’t have expected from such an eager man. 

Just the fact he’s even prepping you is shocking enough. Then again, they seem more than eager to be the ones giving you pleasure over themselves. 

“Ye like that?” He groans, pushing his fingers into your hole. “Feel good?” 

“Mhm.” You moan around Kyle’s cock, pushing back against his hand as he pushes in a third finger. 

Your pussy continues to drip, your entire body clenching around his fingers as he sinks them in as deep as he can. You take Kyle as deep as you can into your mouth, his back arching up off your pillows as he moans. It’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, like angels singing. 

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groans. He pulls his free before slapping a hand down on your ass. “Go sit on Kyle’s cock for me.” 

You release Kyle’s cock, licking your lips before doing what you’re told. You scramble up over Kyle’s hips eagerly, taking his cock in your hand again. 

“Hi, love.” He grins up at you. 

You can only let out a groan in response as you line his cock up, slowly lowering yourself onto him. He’s perfect, stretching you open deliciously. It burns a bit, but you don’t care as you continue to work him into your dripping pussy. Your legs are shaking already by the time you’re seated completely on him, your hands pressing against his lower stomach to keep yourself upright. He’s solid under your hands, but his skin is warm, almost hot under your touch. 

He’s still staring up at you with those lidded eyes, his hands sliding to your thighs. “Good girl.” He grunts as you squeeze around him, his fingers digging into your thighs like he’s trying to hold himself back. 

Maybe he is. 

Johnny’s hand pushes between your shoulder blades, bending you down so you’re resting against Kyle’s chest. It moves his cock inside of you, a breathy moan leaving your lips at the change in position. Kyle releases his grip on your thighs, instead lifting his arms to wrap around your back. It feels intimate, the way he holds you. Far too intimate for just a one night stand. 

Your fingers lift to brush the dog tags around Kyle’s neck. He’s wearing them too, the metal shockingly cold despite the furnace-like warmth of his body. You can’t read what’s on them in the dim light, but you don’t really care to know at the moment. 

Johnny’s hand slides down your spine, smearing lube across your skin but you don’t care. It’s the cool drip of more lube on your ass that pulls you from your daze, the bottle snapping shut before hitting the bed somewhere beside you. Something thicker than fingers presses against your hole, your body clenching in anticipation. Kyle lets out a groan, his hips pushing up against yours as you squeeze around him again. 

“Relax for me.” Johnny groans, pushing the tip of his cock against your hole. 

You let out a long breath, willing your body to relax as much as you can. Johnny’s hand presses against the base of your spine, Kyle’s arms still holding you against his chest. His lips press against your forehead, something tingling against Johnny’s hand as you find yourself relaxing more and more. 

A breathy moan leaves your lips as the head of his cock presses into your ass, stretching you despite the prep he’d given you. He’s so thick, almost spearing you open as he rocks his hips, pushing more and more of his cock into your tight ass. Kyle stays still, holding your body as Johnny continues to work his way in. He’s so thick you can feel every inch of Kyle’s cock inside of your pussy. You can’t do anything but lay there and moan in pleasure from the mix of sensations. 

There’s a moment of silence, a deep breath as Johnny’s hips meet your ass. You’ve never been quite so full before, not like this, not so perfectly. They’re perfect, fitting into you like a glove, hitting every spot you could ever want them to. 

It’s almost too perfect. 

The thought is erased from your mind as Johnny begins to rock his hips, Kyle’s arms tightening around you as you begin to move against his chest. 

“Fucking christ.” Johnny breathes as you squeeze around him, pussy clenching as Kyle begins to move under you. 

“Bloody hell, love.” Kyle groans, pushing his hips up into yours, finding the rhythm of pushing in as Johnny pulls out. 

Your nails bite into the skin of his chest as the pleasure continues to build. You were worked up before they stuck their cocks in you, and now having them both inside of you is almost too much. 

Johnny bends over your back, changing the position of his thrusts. It pushes his cock against Kyle’s inside of you, pushing Kyle against that spot, his cock dragging against it with every movement of his hips. Johnny’s dog tags drag across your skin as he thrusts into you, the metal cool despite the moist heat of your bodies beginning to warm the room. Goosebumps erupt on your skin from the dual sensations, the warmth of their bodies, the cold of the metal against your back, the push and pull of their hips. It’s all so perfect. 

They do the work for you, playing your body like an instrument again with that uncanny understanding of each other. Kyle’s cock pushes in as Johnny’s pulls out, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure as they fill you completely. You’re rendered helpless as you lay there, unable to do anything but moan as your second orgasm of the night continues to build. Your entire body is trembling and twitching, all of your weight resting entirely on Kyle, but he offers no complaint. 

It doesn’t seem to bother him at all. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You squeal as Johnny picks up the pace, thrusting into you so hard your headboard begins to knock against the wall. Kyle’s arms tighten around you, holding you still and using you for leverage as he thrusts up into you. “Please, please, please...” You repeat it like a mantra, your entire body on fire with pleasure. 

Something tickles in the back of your mind, getting stronger and stronger the more you get closer to your orgasm. You can’t place it, you don’t care to, as your body writhes with pleasure. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, “Fucking take it!” 

“Gonna cum for us?” Kyle grunts, still thrusting up into you. “Gonna give it to us?” 

“Yes! Yes!” You cry, your back arching as you push yourself up against Kyle’s chest. 

The light behind you on your desk casts your shadows along the wall behind the bed. Your eyes watch the way they move and dance as you push yourself up so your back is against Johnny’s chest. Kyle’s arms drop from around you as you push yourself back, the new angle nearly blinding you with pleasure. 

The halo still on your head rocks forward and backward almost violently as Johnny continues to drive his hips against your ass. His arms wrap around you, holding you up against his chest. 

Perhaps it’s the pleasure numbing your mind, but you swear the room starts to get darker, the shadows lengthening as you stare at the dancing shadows on the wall. Johnny’s hand reaches up, tugging the halo from your head, letting it fall to the floor. 

You’re frozen there, captivated as his shadow almost seems to get bigger, the fake horns still on his head starting to lengthen and twist. Something unfurls from his back, spreading across the wall as the shadows continue to press inward around you. 

Wings. They look like wings. 

White hot pleasure blinds you as Johnny pushes your face down into Kyle’s shoulder, his own body folding over your back. You’re sandwiched between them, unable to do anything but take the pleasure they’re bringing you. Your clit drags against Kyle’s stomach as he gives over control to Johnny, letting Johnny’s thrusts rock you on his cock. Your hand curls around Kyle’s dog tags, the metal still somehow cold against your fingers. They feel bigger now, thicker and wider than what they had looked like. 

No, there’s not two of them anymore. 

It’s one pendant on the chain, some kind of pattern imprinted on the smooth metal. Your fingers trail over the smooth surface, tracing the raised lines. You can’t tell what it is, far too lost in pleasure to rationalize what is happening. Kyle’s hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it from his dog tags. He uses it to pull you up, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. Warmth floods your body at the press of his lips, your mind starting to go fuzzy. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans, grinding against your ass. “Give it to us.” 

Your ears begin to ring as more and more pleasure builds, drool slipping out from your lips as you pull away from Kyle, your entire body tingling. There’s something coming, something building within you so strong you almost can’t take it. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s not coming fast enough. 

“Come on.” Johnny says, pushing himself up just slightly to drive his hips downward against your ass. 

You nearly let out a scream as the pleasure hits you all at once, fluid gushing out of you and soaking Kyle’s lower body. Your entire body writhes and shudders between them, the pleasure never seeming to end as Johnny continues thrusting almost violently against you. Kyle’s hands reach up, gripping your hips as he moans, his head falling back. You’re squeezing around them so tightly you’re shocked at how Johnny is still moving. 

“That’s it.” Johnny groans. “That’s it.” 

You feel like you’re floating, barely registering the way Johnny and Kyle kiss over your shoulder, groaning against each other’s lips. Your body twitches as you get further and further away, almost floating right out of your body. You’re exhausted, the energy and life draining right out of you as you milk their cocks of their own cum. It’s hot as it spurts inside of you, filling you up almost impossibly full. 

Kyle’s hand presses against the back of your head, his voice low in your ear. “Sleep.” 

You’re hungover. 

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes as you lay there on your stomach. Your head is throbbing, body weak as you groan in annoyance. You forgot to close the curtain last night. 

The sun is streaming in, warming your room. It smells like sex, your skin still sticky with sweat. Memories from the previous night begin to fill your mind as you come more and more into awareness. It barely feels real, almost like last night was a dream. Did you really catch the attention of those two beautiful men at the bar? Did you really bring them home and fuck them both? 

It feels like a dream, it might have been a dream. 

You crack your eyes open, letting out a groan. You are alone, the only remnant of the night before the scent of them still lingering in the air. They smelled good, sweet and musky, so strong you could almost taste it. They smelled good, even sweaty from the heat and exertion.

You can still feel their touch like a phantom left behind in your memory. The brush of their lips and fingers, Kyle’s head between your legs, the fullness of your body as they fucked you into one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. It was addicting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to feel as satisfied as you did last night, even with the way your head is throbbing and your body feels drained of all energy.  

It was all so perfect. 

It must have been a dream. You had too much to drink and fell asleep dreaming about two perfect men fucking you to the point you couldn’t remember your own name. There’s no way two men were such perfect matches for you and for each other. Perfection doesn’t exist. 

You roll over onto your back, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. How long had the three of you gone last night? You can’t remember much past your first orgasm. You’re not even sure you remember your first orgasm. 

It must have been a dream. 

Something catches your eye as you roll over, tugging the blanket up around your chin. You squint through the blurriness and the haze of exhaustion, staring at your nightstand. peripheral vision

No, it wasn't a dream. 

It was very real. 

There's a set of dog tags sitting on your nightstand. 

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[bueckersbitch]

Grace and Grit - paige bueckers x oc

chapter two: how you get the girl

𐙚 characters: hopkins!paige x oc

𐙚 warnings: small mention of vaping

𐙚 authors note: letting this one speak for itself! this is all fiction!! enjoy ;)

Warm air flows through the cracked windows, Blaire stares at the girl beside her. Her golden hair was down, pushed all to one side, the bright blonde bringing out her sharp features, jaw prominent as her eyes were locked on the road, occasionally glancing over at Blaire, softly singing to the song that flooded the space between the two in the car. Angel-like glow radiating off of her as they passed the yellow streetlights. Blaire finds a way to pull her gaze away, now focused on her hand that rested in her lap, bright sapphire surrounded by gold, resting around her middle finger, a gift, her father giving it to her from Madagascar, a parting gift before he left for work in Australia. Other hand intertwined with Paige, Paige’s soft, warm hands grounding them in the moment, the warmth a direct reflection of the type of person Paige was, endearing, kind, big hearted, everything.

She felt her own hair blow into her lip gloss, Nars, Turkish Delight, over top her lightly lined lips, quickly moving her left hand to tuck it behind her ear. A familiar song now playing, How You Get The Girl, by Taylor Swift. Shocked, she turns to Paige, a smug grin across her face, “Paige…” She starts, although she’s quickly cut off “Don’t, I want you to feel comfortable, I know your obsession with her” Blaire hums, gently singing the lyrics, rubbing her lips together in an attempt to evenly coat the remaining lip gloss on her lips. She takes in her surroundings, the dark car having few decorations in it, a basketball car freshener that hung around the rearview mirror, and a photo of Paige, her Dad, and little brother, Drew, in the space in front of the steering wheel, two things that truly screamed Paige. Her love for her family, and basketball.

Paige focuses on living in the moment, maybe that's the reason why she is where she is today, putting her game and family first, so of course, she can’t help but take in the moment that is shared right now, in her car. She focuses on the road, deer trailing to the left, two, prancing around each other beneath the streetlight, spotting the incoming car, they leap away into the forest. Paige pretends to have a rough exterior, boasting in her competition's faces, after all, it’s why the people loved her so much, why she had highlights of her clipped together. She was fierce, never one to back down from a challenge. In reality, though, she was just a teenage girl living her dreams, decision day was right around the corner with school starting up soon, senior year. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind she would attend Uconn, past rosters stacked with greatness all around, thoughts about her future took her out of the moment, and so she slowly removes her hand from the steering wheel, turning up the music, attempting to drown out her thoughts while relishing in the look in Blaire’s eyes, embarrassment? Maybe. But Paige wished Blaire wasn’t afraid of showing who she really was. Paige was as observant as she was extroverted, noticing the front Blaire puts on, the fact she only really had four friends, her childhood best friend, and a couple of classmates from school. “When do you have to be home?!” Paige blurts over at Blaire, nearly shouting over the music. “I mean, I don’t have a curfew!” Blaire says, Paige winks before saying, “Perfect”

The twenty minute drive comes to an end, car pulling into the parking lot. Paige opens the car door for Blaire, her hopping out, the two follow the downtown street, talking about senior year, “Soooo… Senior year…” Paige nudges, smiling, Blaire responds, “Yeah, kind of crazy isn’t it? I feel like just yesterday I was clad in my pink tutu posing for my level two dance photos” Paige nods, “I feel ya, time moves so fast, hard to believe we’re going to leave the life we know behind next year” Blaire turns her head, thoughts swarming her head, the life she knew was uninteresting, to say the least, she didn’t really have a reason to stay, growing up in California, her dad insisted on moving to the quiet state of Minnesota, sure, her dance studio moved from California to Minnesota, something about the founder wanting to be close to her mom, Blaire always held a little bit of resentment towards her dad for that. Packing up everything, leaving Blaire’s childhood behind, dragging her with him, and for what? For him to be on work trips all the time? Leaving Blaire in a hauntingly quiet house? Her mom and dad split shortly before her and her dad made the big move. But who was she to trauma dump? Especially not on a first date, so she's restricted to replying with a quiet murmur of, “Yeah” Paige’s side eye doesn’t go unnoticed, Blaire curses herself in her mind, the feeling of messing up taking over, unfamiliarity reminding her of when she first moved here, caging herself in her room, no urgency to get to know those around her.

Pink lights illuminate the ice cream shop, sweet scoops in cursive on the window, a hole in the wall kind of place, reserved for locals. Paige holds the door open, ever the gentlewoman. Stepping inside, Blaire feels the cool air rush against her face, a direct opposite to the humidity of the summer air outside, Save Your Tears playing through the seventies style stereo, the shop overall emitting a seventies style, checkered floors, pink stools on the other side, fun teal booths lining the wall, pictures of the family that founded the shop snug in a corner, a time capsule, almost. Walking up to the register, Paige orders first, “One small vanilla cone please, and for this pretty lady…” Blaire smiles, “One small raspberry chip cone please” Paige pulls her card out of the back of her phone case, purple, handing it to the worker, a tired girl, probably in one of Blaire’s classes, but she wasn’t one to want to get to know people in her classes, she was there for one reason only, to learn. Paige hands Blaire her ice cream, and a few napkins, before walking back to her car.

Now seated, her knees pulled to her chest, she turns to face the blonde, “So tell me about yourself, I know that there’s more beneath that rough exterior you show during your games” Paige finishes her bite of ice cream, the cold treat regulating her body temperature on the warm summer night, “Well, what do you want to know?” Paige counters, Blaire doesn’t know. What do you even ask on first dates? Paige lifts Blaire’s chin, “Well I’ll help, I love music, I feel like it puts my emotions into words, comforts me before a game, during school, you get it” Blaire laughs “I hope I’d get it, I’ve danced my whole life” Two of them laughing, conversation flowing easily after that, personalities dancing around each other beautifully. Ice cream is long forgotten by now, finished, napkins set in the cupholders, the sunroof pulled back, their seats are reclined now, stars shining in the night sky, Paige asking Blaire everything about dance, the training, what the greenroom looks like, quick changes, auditions, everything you could think of, Blaire was pleasantly surprised, eager to tell Paige everything she knew, excited to tell her about the harsh reality that went on behind the scenes of all the grace that was shown on stage. Blaire asks about basketball, conditioning, exercising and working muscles to avoid strain, reading plays on the whiteboard, the rush Paige feels after making a three, this was who they were, so alike, yet so different, both sports being on opposing sides. Conversation fizzles out, Blaire watching the mint smoke from her vape dissolve into the expansive car space, providing her some clarity to loosen up, Paige occasionally tugging it from her palm, doing the same. Blaire found peace, here, simply parked in an empty parking lot, the clock read, 2:00 a.m. Time slipped away easily when she was with Paige, something she hasn’t encountered since her time in California.

They eventually make their way back to Blaire’s dance studio, her car waiting for her, reserved in her senior parking spot. Blaire moves to open the car door, Paige grabbing her hand before she can do so, “Wait!” Blaire whips her head around, face to face with a flustered Paige, soft pink covering her cheeks. Paige softly takes both of Blaire’s hands in her own, before kissing them, soft lips coming into contact with her knuckles, “I had fun tonight, call me tomorrow?” Paige hopes, Blaire pretends to think for a second, an amused, “We’ll see” coming out of her mouth, before she slips away into the night.

[loverslodge]

leading up to the date

You have been very unlucky in love. You were a thoroughbred romantic but that definitely wasn't a good thing when it came to actual experiences.

You had been in quite a lot of relationships, none of which lasted more than six months. Now, here you were, at the ripe age of 30, wanting to finally settle down and have a consistent lovelife. But when has your plans ever worked out for you? With no potential partner and an exhausting dating scene, you were worn out.

So you decided to do what you do best. Watch rom-coms, cry over how perfectly the couples fit each other and have wine and pizza.

You got tipsy, more on the drunken side and a thought popped in your head. So you opened your email and did the one thing only a drunken desperate idiot would do. Send emails to every famous crush of yours to ask them on a date for one night. You were feeling generous so you also added that you will pay them $10000 for their troubles. You wrote a few of your conditions and it was a surprise that for a tipsy person, your email was well written.

…………………..

Three months had gone by and you had completely forgotten about what you had done. Honestly, when you woke up the next morning, you thought that either the people you emailed to will either spam it, delete it or laugh at it. So you laughed at how ridiculous it was and just went on with your days.

You were working from home that day, luckily, and things were going just fine. You were on a lunch break when you heard two pings from your email box. Thinking it must be work, you popped open to see your personal email had received two replies. The subject line glaring at you and your breath quickened.

You had received responses, on your three month old desperate email. By one Steve Rogers and one James Buchanan Barnes. They both had agreed to every terms and conditions and were asking when it would be okay to meet for the date.

You spent two days contemplating. Should you even agree? Did your drunken thoughts even matter? Even if you do agree, whom will you choose? You liked them both. Of course you didn't know them personally but their public presence has always attracted you to them in a way. They were the two men about whom you've daydreamt, occasionally with a vibrator but also, respectfully.

On the third day, you decided that it would be best to leave this decision on both of them. Make them choose who wants to stay for the date. Because you were really using up a lot of your money to pay one person. Why try and lose sleep when you can throw the ball in their court?

You opened their emails and sent them the exact same reply saying that they can meet this Saturday at your usual cafe and then plan from there. Surprisingly, you received both their replies within an hour agreeing.

………………….

Life had been very unforgiving to Steve and Bucky. While they did have women fawn over them, they were having a hard time dealing with the female fanbase.

Bucky tried it once, one night stand with a fan. It did not end well. She had to be dragged away by security and Bucky started questioning what went wrong. He withdrew completely. He did flirt but that was the end of everything. He called it healthy flirting, good to practice just like training.

Steve, after witnessing this, drew back even more. He had been in love with Peggy, still. Seeing Sharon, he saw hints of Peggy in her and so developed a relationship with her. It didn't end well. After just two months of trying, Steve found the relationship exhausting which it shouldn't. He talked to Sharon about it and they both deemed it best to end things while they were ahead. They were just colleagues now.

But one fine day, in the middle of the night, both of them received the same email. A random woman had asked them out on a date and was willing to pay them $10000 for their efforts. Well, not them together but individually.

They were sitting together when this happened. They found it ridiculous and joked about it. Later, bidding each other goodnight, when they were in the comfort of their own room, they both actually started thinking about the proposition.

They both asked FRIDAY, separately, privately, to look into this email. They wanted to make sure they were not being lured into something unknown. All they received was a photo of yours and very clean data. They started thinking about this more.

Finally, they both mustered the courage to email you back saying they agree. Both Bucky and Steve wanted to add that they don't need money but thought they will refuse the money once the date is over.

Steve never actually wanted to date again. He had his chance to go back to Peggy but he didn't want that either. He saw her life flourish and he wanted her to rest now. He said yes to your email mostly because he found it interesting. Also, it was for one day. It was a no strings attached offer and it will help him get his mind off of his stagnant love life.

Bucky found this entire thing funny. But he said yes regardless because he wanted to talk to the brilliant mind that came up with this. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, Bucky also thought that this idea of one day romantic excursion without expectations was titillating.

Steve and Bucky were having dinner together when they both received your email confirming their email and set up the day and time. They both pretended that there was something very important in their phone and agreed to meet you.

The rest of the week was torture for both of them. They wanted to tell each other about this thing but also wanted to hide because who in their right mind would agree to something like this?

They spent the rest of the week separate. The rest of the team found it weird but did not question it. They didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was going on.

As Saturday rolled by, Steve left almost two hours early for the date. He didn't want Bucky to ask questions. He went to a local florist and bought three pink roses for you.

Bucky also wanted to be sneaky so he waited till he heard nothing but silence to leave the compound. He went to a local florist and bought three pink roses for you.

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 10

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

In all your years working in film, you couldn’t recall a single production that you weren’t looking forward to wrapping. And yet, here you were, the last week of filming, and you didn’t want it to end. Why would you? You’d never had this much fun on any other set before, the reason for which was currently in your bed, snoozing next to you. But it wasn’t just the fact that you were secretly sleeping with the star of the film, though that was a large part of it, you’d admit. 

Tom’s seemingly endless positivity as well as his intense passion for his craft was infectious. Practically everyone agreed that Tom was one of their favorite actors they’d ever worked with. So you knew that anyone you worked with going forward would pale in comparison. 

Your biggest concern, however, was how much time the two of you would be able to make for each other once you weren’t on the same schedule anymore. After all, you were both workaholics, not to mention Tom would have more opportunities to make other friends, so the possibility of the two of you drifting apart was very real.

“You okay?” Tom’s sleepy mumble pulled you from your thoughts. 

You turned onto your side to see that his eyes were still closed. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

He blearily opened one eye to look at you. “Your tossing and turning says otherwise.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No need to be sorry,” he replied with a yawn while he draped his arm over your waist and began lightly tracing patterns on your back. “What’s on your mind, Sweets?” Recently he began occasionally shortening ‘sweetheart’ to ‘Sweets,’ something you’d only heard him do with you.

You sighed, instantly feeling relaxed by his touch. “Just the fact that we’ll be wrapping soon.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned as he pulled you closer. “What on earth am I going to do without you putting your hands on me all day everyday?”

“I think you’ll survive,” you teased him. “I’ve got to give someone else a chance, haven’t I?”

He chuckled. “I haven’t even got my next project lined up and already you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else.”

“You were going to get bored of me eventually, Tommy. I’m only preparing for the inevitable.”

“How could I possibly get bored of you? There hasn’t been a single dull moment since this production started, for better or worse, and that’s largely because of you.”

“Well, unfortunately, it isn’t up to you or me whether we work together again or not.”

“I mean, I could potentially influence a director’s decision…”

“Absolutely not. You know the rules, Hiddleston. No professional favors.”

“Only joking, darling,” he defended. “But are you sure you’ll have time for me once you’ve started working on another film next week?” 

“Well, I’ve got to have some way to relieve tension after a long day, haven’t I?.” With a devilish grin, you leaned in and kissed him slowly and sensually.

“Unless you start a fling with one of your new clients,” he teased you once your lips parted.

Your mouth fell open in an incredulous gape. “I am nothing if not professional!” He gave you a skeptical look. “You are the rare exception.” When he opened his mouth to speak, you immediately added, “and if you mention Trevor, I will knee you in the dick!”

“I was simply going to say that I’m honored to be your rare exception.”

“Mhm. Sure you were.” You rolled your eyes. 

“So what exactly is bothering you then?”

You sighed. “Just anxious about starting a new job, I guess.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear and then slid his hand down your neck to your shoulder. “While I completely understand, I also know that you’ll adapt seamlessly to whatever is thrown at you. I mean, you had to deal with me of all people, so your next clients should be a breeze!”

“You know, you might be right. I’ve never met anyone who touches their hair and face more than you do.”

“Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with liking to touch and be touched,” he said, dragging the back of his index finger lightly across the skin of your breast and over your nipple.

“No, I suppose there isn’t,” you replied with a smirk. You bit your lip while your hand traveled down to his half-hard cock. “And here I thought you were still sleepy.”

“Well, we have to find some way to tire you out, now don’t we?”

…

The week flew by, and before you knew it, you were getting ready for the wrap party. Given how the last party went, you and Tom had decided that this time, neither of you would flirt with anyone, and you’d politely shut down anyone who tried. 

You were just putting on your earrings when you heard Tom pull up to your house in his jag. You quickly grabbed your clutch and met him outside. 

He was leaning against his car when he saw you walking out in your navy blue sundress with a plunging neckline. He raised his eyebrows as he looked you up and down. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go change.”

“What?” You looked down at your dress in confusion. “Why?”

“Because we agreed that we didn’t want anyone else flirting with either of us,” he began as he walked toward you. “And yet here you are looking absolutely irresistible.” 

You put your hands on your hips and smirked up at him as he approached you. “I’m sorry, but I get dressed up for me and no one else.”

“Well, if you won’t take that dress off then I guess I’ll just have to do it myself.” He gave you a sly smirk before taking your hand and leading you toward your house.

You giggled as you tried pulling him back toward the car. “Thomas William! We are going to be late!”

He let out an exasperated sigh and turned around to let you drag him to the car. “But that dress is coming off the moment we get back to my place tonight!” 

“Whatever you say, Tommy.” You winked at him as you got into the car.

…

When you arrived at the party, everyone was in good spirits, clearly excited to be finished with production. Tom, of course, was immediately summoned by several people to join them. He looked over at you as if he was torn between socializing and spending the whole night with you. 

“Go mingle,” you told him. “I’ll be at the bar with Kaitlyn.”

“Fine, but remember, darling,” he leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Tonight you're mine.”

It sent a shiver down your spine and heat to your core. “Oh really? Because I think you’ll find it’s the other way around,” you replied, and with a wink, you turned and headed to the bar, knowing he’d be watching you walk away.

“Well, don’t you look like a snack,” Kaitlyn said as you walked up to her. “Who are you hoping to go home with this time?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “No one. I am not having a repeat of last time.” You sat down on the bar stool next to her. “Can’t I just look hot for the sake of looking hot?”

“Absolutely, you can!” Kaitlyn replied enthusiastically, raising her drink to you. “Though I do hope you’re prepared to be hit on at least once or twice tonight.” She giggled and took a sip. She was tipsy already.

“Then I hope whoever does is prepared for rejection.” You turned to the bartender who had just approached you. “Aperol Spritz, please?” 

“Are you certain there’s absolutely no one here who you’d spend the night with if he asked?” While taking another sip of her drink Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows while her eyes darted in the direction of where Tom was standing and then back to you. 

You scoffed. “Oh come off it, Kait. How many times do I have to tell you that we’re just friends.”

“As a person with the ability of sight,” she emphasized dramatically, “you cannot tell me you don’t want to climb that tree.”

That made you laugh. “Just because you fancy him doesn’t mean everyone else does too.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“You’re right, I am, because it’s a silly question.” Again, you turned to the bartender who handed you your drink. “Thank you so much.” Kaitlyn opened her mouth to speak but you stopped her. “Look, Kait, can we just drop it? I just want to have a fun last hurrah with everybody tonight, alright?”

“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, like a child who’d just been told by their mum that they couldn’t have the candy bar they wanted.

…

After a couple of hours of socializing, swapping stories from on set, and occasional stolen glances between you and Tom, the pair of you ended up in the middle of a circular booth with Warren sat next to Tom, and Kaitlyn next to you.

“Ooh! Let’s play Truth or Dare!” Kaitlyn suggested excitedly.

“I dunno, Kait,” you hesitated. “Isn’t that game more for children and American frat boys? Not to mention we’re in public.”

“Oh come on! Live a little!” Warren chimed in. “Besides, if you don’t want to do something, all you have to do is finish your drink instead!”

You looked to Tom for back up. “Could be fun,” he shrugged. You raised your eyebrows at him, surprised he was on board with this idea. 

With a sigh, you conceded. “Alright, fine. But the minute it gets weird, I’m out.”

“Yay!” Kaitlyn cheered and clapped her hands. “Who wants to go first?” She looked eagerly around the booth. 

“I have one,” Warren said casually. “Tom, truth or dare?”

“I suppose. I’ll have to say dare,” Tom replied confidently.

“I dare you to deliver a toast to the whole room,” Warren began. 

Tom scoffed “Easy enough.”

Warren held a finger up, “But you must work the word ‘dildo’ into your speech.”

“I’m so glad we can play this game as mature adults,” you commented sarcastically. 

Tom thought about the challenge for only a few seconds before getting up to stand on his seat and deliver his toast, and it was magnificent. The entire room was captivated by the eloquence of his moving yet, at times, rather humorous speech. You even saw a few people tear up. The most impressive part to you, however, was how seamlessly he worked in his challenge word where you’d least expect it, and without anyone even batting an eye.

Warren stared at Tom in awe as he sat back down. “Are you just effortlessly good at everything?”

“Annoying, isn’t it?” you said, pointing your beer bottle in Warren’s direction. He nodded in agreement. 

Tom waved him off. “I’m rubbish at loads of things– maths being just one example– but the oral arts are kind of my specialty.”

While you almost choked on your beer and subtly kicked him under the table, Warren just laughed. “I‘ll bet they are!” 

Kaitlyn blushed. “Shall we continue our game?”

“Alright, Kait,” Tom said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she responded without missing a beat. “I have nothing to hide.”

“If you could go home with anyone in the club tonight, who would it be?”

Kaitlyn turned bright red, “Erm, on second thought…” and downed the rest of her drink.

The rest of you laughed and cheered her on as she chugged. Once she finished, you nudged her with your elbow. “Nothing to hide, huh?” You gave her a cheeky wink as she scowled at you. 

“Fine then,” she said, regaining her confidence and looking smugly at you. “Truth or dare?”

You smirked, knowing that if you said ‘truth,’ she’d ask you the same thing Tom had asked her, and you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss someone at this table.”

Warren and Tom both oohed scandalously, but you were unphased. Oh, innocent little Kaitlyn. You were willing to bet that she thought that Tom would be the clear choice, given that Warren was gay and you and Kaitlyn were both straight, but you were more than prepared to throw her for a loop. You looked round the table, as if you weren’t quite sure what you would do. Then, without warning, you kissed Kaitlyn full on the lips, being sure to show her what an amazing kisser you were, no matter who was on the receiving end. When you finally pulled away, she looked like a deer in headlights. You tipped your beer to her. “Ask and you shall receive, m’lady,” you boasted before taking a swig.

Tom and Warren both laughed, but you felt Tom’s hand briefly give your upper thigh a firm, lingering squeeze before retracting. Somehow you could tell that it wasn’t so much playful as it was possessive. It made you wet, and you weren’t wearing any panties. You crossed your legs and cleared your throat. 

“Where did you learn to kiss like that?” Kaitlyn asked in awe.

You smiled proudly. “Loads of experience, my dear.”

“I believe it’s your turn, darling,” Tom interjected with what almost sounded like irritation.

“Right. Kaitlyn, truth or dare?” 

Her expression turned from awe to indignation. “What? But no one’s had a go at Warren yet!”

“You’ll have no complaints from me!” Warren assured with a chuckle.

Kaitlyn huffed. “Fine. Dare.”

“I dare you to finish one of those abandoned, half empty drinks over there.” You pointed to the vacant table across the room. 

She looked at the drinks in question with a grimace, which quickly turned to a look of determination. Then she stood up and made for the abandoned table.

“Atta girl!” you encouraged her.

When she reached her destination, she casually leaned against the high top table while she scoped out her options. 

“She’s not going to do it,” Warren said.

“Oh have a little faith, will you?” you chided him.

Sure enough, Kaitlyn chose her chalice and downed it in one gulp, wincing as she swallowed. You all cheered as she walked back to the booth. When she sat back down, Tom reached across you to give her a high five. “Well done, Kait!” When he settled back down, he draped his arm across the back of the booth behind you and you could have sworn he’d moved a little closer to you. Smooth, you thought. 

And on you went with the game, telling juicy, innocuous truths and doing silly little dares until Kaitlyn decided to switch things up a bit.

“I have a dare for all of us!” Kaitlyn announced. “Though maybe it would be considered a truth… Not sure. Anyway! Let’s do a round of Fuck, Marry, Kill!”

“Who are our choices?” you asked.

She looked at you as if it were obvious. “The people at this table, silly!” You wondered if she’d gone from tipsy to drunk at this point.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Tom asked Kaitlyn.

“It’s all in good fun!” she replied. “And I already dared you all, so you play or you drink! I’ll go first.” She looked around the table as she contemplated her answer. “Well, if that kiss was any indication, I think I’d fuck Y/n, marry Tom– because I think he would make the cutest hubby–” Yeah, she was drunk. “And kill Warren because I can’t fuck him or marry him, no offense.”

“None taken,” Warren replied.

“Who’s next?” Kaitlyn asked excitedly.

You sighed dramatically, “If I must.” You proceeded with the first thought that popped into your head. “Fuck Tom– because why not–” you began, hoping to sound as flippant as you intended. “–marry Warren so we can fuck whoever we like with no complicated feelings–” You and Warren high-fived. “–and kill Kaitlyn for making us play this horrid game.” 

“You bitch!” Kaitlyn gasped playfully.

Tom raised his hand slightly. “I’ll go next, if I may.” Suddenly you found yourself very curious and a bit anxious for his answer. “Between the three of you, I’d have to say, Fuck Warren– could be fun,” he added with a wink.

“Yes, Daddy!” Warren responded seductively. 

Tom chuckled as he continued. “Marry Y/n– because she’s my best friend, obviously– and kill Kaitlyn.” He turned to her. “Sorry love, but you were the only one left.”

While Kaitlyn looked thoroughly disappointed, you and Tom just laughed, though you felt something in your stomach that you couldn’t quite place. Meanwhile Tom’s ears, cheeks, and chest were bright red. Was he embarrassed? Whatever it was, it was pretty damn adorable.

“I guess that leaves me,” Warren said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “I mean, obviously I’d fuck Tom, but then I’m out, because whether I marry Y/n or kill her, Tom would kill me either way.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, I would absolutely kill you if you killed Y/n, but why do you think I’d kill you if you married her?”

Warren looked skeptical. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” Tom replied, only semi-convincingly. “In fact, I’d give you my blessing.”

“Looks like we have a wedding to plan,” you joked as you raised your beer bottle. “To me and Warren!” Tom and Warren joined in your toast, while Kaitlyn still sulked.

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that all three of you said you’d kill me?” she interjected. 

You put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Aw, darling, you know we all love you. It’s just a game! One you made us play, I might add.”

“Can we just go back to Truth or Dare?” she pleaded. 

“Alright,” you conceded. The two men groaned. “But just one more.”

Kaitlyn immediately perked up. “I have one for you and Tom, actually.” Uh oh. “Truth or dare?”

At this point you didn’t know which would be worse. “Dare? I guess?” You looked at Tom for confirmation and he sheepishly shrugged. Then you looked back at Kaitlyn, wincing in anticipation for what was to come.

A devious smile stretched across her face. “I dare you to kiss each other.”

“Must you be so adolescent?” you complained, though, admittedly, you kind of saw this coming.

Before she could respond, Tom swiftly grabbed your face and kissed you hard on the lips. Your eyes went wide as soon as your lips made contact, but you quickly melted into it. Well, if you were going to do it, you might as well make the most of it and give everyone a good show. You climbed on his lap, his hands moving to your waist, and the two of you continued to snog shamelessly. All the while, not only were Kaitlyn and Warren clapping and cheering, but you realized the entire crew had stopped what they were doing and joined in the applause with various whoops and wolf whistles. Some shouting “Fucking finally!” while others gave you the classic “Get a room!” Without missing a beat, you and Tom both flipped everyone off without even coming up for air. 

When your lips finally parted, you did so with an exaggerated bravado, before turning to Kaitlyn. “There,” Tom said between panting breaths. “Happy now?”

She let out a squeal that made you and Tom flinch. “Are you kidding? You guys are the most adorable couple I’ve ever seen!” 

You let out an irritated sigh. “Yeah. Not a couple.” You looked down at Tom. “And I think that’s our cue to leave. Shall we?” 

“Right behind you,” Tom said as you climbed off his lap.

“Noooo,” Kaitlynn whined. “You can’t leave now!” 

You gave her a commiserative look. “Sorry, Kait. This was loads of fun, but I’m tired.” She folded her arms and pouted. “Make sure she gets home safe, yeah?” you told Warren before you and Tom made your way toward the door. 

“Oi!”  Warren called as he caught up to you. You and Tom turned around. “So how long have you two been shagging then?”

You both feigned confusion. “What? Pfft. That’s just… we totally aren’t…” you both stammered incoherently before quickly giving up. “Since the beginning of production,” you admitted in defeat. 

“I knew it!”

This time your confusion was genuine. “How?”

“My ex and I used to kiss the way you lot just did.”

You and Tom shook your heads. “Like Y/n told Kaitlyn, we’re not a couple,” Tom explained.

Warren chuckled. “A couple of idiots, more like,” he said, almost to himself. “Have a goodnight you two!” And with a wave he turned and walked back over to Kaitlyn.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” you wondered aloud as you watched Warren walk away..

“I don’t know,” Tom replied. “But I’ve had a semi since you got off my lap, so I’d really like to get back to mine so we can finish what we started.”

You snickered and gave him a playful shove before quickly walking out the door with him at your heels.

…

During the entire drive to Tom’s place he kept his hand on your thigh, like he needed to be touching you at all times, staking his claim. It was only making the heat in your core worse, and you found yourself getting wetter by the second. Finally, when you arrived in Tom’s garage you went to open your door, eager to get in the house, but Tom stopped you. 

“Stay right there, darling,” he told you. He got out of the car and walked around to your side to open your door for you, holding your hand to help you get out and stand up. As soon as you were standing and the door was shut behind you, his fingers tangled into your hair, bringing his lips to yours in a feverish kiss. You both sighed and whimpered, desperate to satiate the hunger you’d felt for each other all day. He pressed your back up against the car in an attempt to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into your hips. “You won’t believe how many men I caught staring at you tonight,” he panted between kisses. “It was infuriating.” 

“Is that why you did Kaitlyn’s silly dare and kissed me in front of everyone?” you asked as he began kissing your neck. 

“I had to show all of them who you belonged to tonight now didn’t I?” He lifted his head and smirked at you while he slipped one hand under your dress, his fingers grazing against your slick inner thighs until they found your naked slit, dripping with arousal. He tilted his head as his mouth fell open and his jaw jutted forward. “Had I known you weren’t wearing any panties, we would have left the party hours ago.”

You felt his middle finger glide through your folds and ghost over your clit, ushering a gasp from your lungs. Then you smiled. “And spoil the surprise? I think it was far more satisfying this way.”

Suddenly he crashed his lips against yours, your tongues tangling frantically. Reaching down between your bodies, you clamored to free his cock from his slacks. Once you’d done so, you slipped your hand in his pocket and pulled out the condom, effortlessly tearing it open and rolling it on without even looking. Tom then grabbed your legs and hoisted them up, hitching them over his hips before thrusting into you. The sound of panting, grunting, and moaning filled the garage as he rolled his hips relentlessly into yours. Your fingernails clawed at the back of his shirt, while he gripped your ass with one hand and fondled your breast with the other. Your moans grew louder with every thrust, his length gliding in and out of you at an angle that felt so incredible, it quickly sent you over the edge. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave a few final thrusts as you both came at the same time, gasping and moaning in time with each other.

After he stilled, you both stayed there for a moment, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths lingered in the air. Finally, he gently let your feet touch the floor again before resting his hands on your waist and lightly rubbing the tip of his nose across your cheekbone and temple. 

“I thought you said my dress would come off the moment we came back to your place,” you said, still catching your breath.

“Well, technically, we’ve not gone in the house yet,” he countered. “And I couldn’t have possibly waited another second before I had to have you.”

“That’s rather fortunate, because neither could I.” You giggled as he kissed you again, this time more slow and sensual. When the kiss ended he looked a bit dazed. 

“Now off you pop to the bedroom, Sweets. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly, @the-princess-of-loki, @princess-ofthe-pages, @darcylikesloki, @kikster606, @foxherder

[xaharadesert]

Lucky MC - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Julian, Portia) x MC

A/N: life update, my fav coworker quit and if I have to cover more shifts then I’m gonna cry. Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open! (Side note: there’s an up to date number on the masterlist post pinned on my account to let you know how many other people sent in requests before you!)

❤️Julian❤️

Listen, if you only ever used your luck for innocuous situations like picking out the best fruit or occasionally cheating at cards, he would be totally on your side

It’s not like it’s a conscious decision; you’re apparently just the universe’s favourite person

But walking into dangerous situations with zero sense of what’s actually going on is where he draws the line

Or rather, it would be where he drew the line if he could actually get you to stop, but considering how oblivious you are to what’s actually going on, it’s kinda hard to set firm rules

Instead he just has to accept the premature hair loss and heart condition that you’ve given him

This man is on the exact opposite side of the luck spectrum

You could walk into a restaurant together, and while you would win free meals for the next ten years, he would trip and knock over a wine rack

So needless to say that he’s not following you into danger unless he has to

He trusts your luck, even if you don’t seem to be aware of it

Honestly, he assumes it’s some sort of unconscious benefit to using magic, and that you have a bit more control than you’re letting on

Best to let him believe there’s actually some motivation behind your luck, because he’s going to have an aneurism if there’s really no reason

🧡Portia🧡

No no babe, it’s not your luck, it’s our luck

Even if you’re unaware of it, she definitely knows what’s up and will be taking full advantage

Once she realizes you’re pretty much invincible by some unseen logic, she will be literally pushing you into dangerous situations to help sort them out

Also encourages you to join in on any of those scam games being run at the edge of the marketplace, because you somehow always win even if it shouldn’t be possible

She likes to test out the boundaries of what your luck does and does not cover, but she doesn’t tell you this out loud

Sometimes she’ll just steer the two of you into dangerous situations to see how well they turn out

Unfortunately this doesn’t always end well for her personally, but at least she’s learned a bit more about you

Occasionally asks you to lend her your luck for various mundane tasks, and even if that isn’t possible, she will thank you if they turn out well

She has also acquired a collection of various “lucky” items to see if they’ll boost your abilities

[supernaturalcharlie11]

Ylfa has never been the type of girl who follows the path that stretches out in front of her. So when she was confronted with writing her story anew, she could only bring herself to write a few lines:

Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved her grandma very much. Her name was Ylfa Snorgelson. But she was better known as Little Red Riding Hood.

She tucked the page away. There was no need to write more. She would stray from the path anyway. And she knew exactly what was waiting for her at the end of the story. An old friend. A part of her lost in the final battle.

The Big Bad Wolf continues to provide an end to all the stories, but she does so in a kinder way than her predecessor. She too has remnants of memories of an adventure that she went on when a part of her was still a little girl.

The day comes, when Death meets the first of her companions again. She finds Timothy Goose surrounded by his husband and son, falling asleep peacefully.

„Old friend“, he greets Death kindly. „Thank you for joining me on this last path.“

„Of course.“

And they walk together, away from something and towards something else that no one in the world could ever understand. Tim tells death about everything he lived through. A life filled with ink, love and an occasional pickle that Tim cherishes very much.

The next two familiar faces meet the Big Bad Wolf shortly after each other. Gerard had lived a life of adventure, finally laying down his life to protect a new ally. Next to death he makes his way down a path that leads into a similar direction as Mother Goose‘s.

Pib, on the other hand, has a lot of reincarnations left. Death, to him, is merely another stop along the way. But when he meets her, he looks a little wary.

„Rest here as long as you want“, the Big Bad Wolf offers. „You deserve a little rest.“

„Thank you“, Pib meows and jumps onto the back of the Wolf that he once knew so well. Prodding his paws into the soft and warm fur, he prepares a little spot to lie down and sleep without an open eye for the first time in his many lifetimes.

Rosamund greets Death like an old friend, bowing deeply as she leaves her life behind. A life filled with wonder and grace, with adventures and saving as many young maidens from what she once knew as destiny. Now she knows it’s nothing even close to that.

„I‘m not the first, am I?“

Death shakes her big head.

„Will I see them again?“

„I don‘t know“, Death admits. „Where this path leads is hidden even from me. But that doesn‘t mean it will be bad. Quite the opposite, I believe.“

And Death turns so that Rosamund might look upon her old friend again, who is still nestled in the warm fur.

„I don‘t think this path is meant for me“, Pib says looking down the road that some of his companions have already taken.

„Then let‘s stray together“, Rosamund smiles and opens her arms. Death watches as Rosamund carries the little cat down a way that even Death herself can‘t tread.

After that, Death spends a lot of time with people she doesn‘t know, but cares about deeply nonetheless.

Then, one night, an older man finds himself by her side. He looks at Death with love in his eyes, recognising something in her that the Big Bad Wolf has already forgotten.

„Will she join me?“, Pinocchio asks, lovingly running his now human hand through the dark fur.

„Was one lifetime not enough?“, Death asks, genuinely curious.

Pinocchio smiles: „Is it ever?“

The last one to join the other side is an old woman in a red cape. She has a spark in her eyes that tells of a lifetime filled with love, crazy decisions along no path anyone could ever form, and an absence of the pain that was once destined for her.

She looks at Death with kindness, not recognising her. But Death does. She looks behind what everyone else could see directly at the young girl who had once been her.

Many upon a times ago.

„Let‘s just sit for a while“, Death offers and the girl gladly accepts.

„Are you waiting at the end of every story?“

The Big Bad Wolf turns to look at her, memories of adventures and friendship returning in a way that Death never thought possible.

„This is not the end, Little Red“, she whispers quietly. „There are a lot of stories left to be written.“

[witchofthemidlands]

i'm writing doctorjackrose angst currently in my recent fanfic chapter so you guys can have my brain rot as a result, i apologise in advance.

the fact that the two people eleven mentions by name is rose & jack as people he would want to spend time with to avoid his trip to lake is such a throwaway line but it makes me absolutely insane regardless because i can just imagine jack&rose being with any of the modern doctors & it still being as electric & beautiful as it was when they were travelling with nine (before satellite 5 obviously) because you cannot tell me that there were not polycule vibes between the three of them.

i mean, i can imagine that they would have so much fun with eleven. he's a near feral energy goblin & weirdly smooth in his own way so i feel like elevenjackrose would go on some incredible adventures. they would ALWAYS be touching one another in some way, there would probably be the most physical contact from this version of them & they would scare the locals of every planet they go to. eleven strikes me as the doctor who would attempt to be the big spoon & then decide that he'd rather enjoy being the little spoon between the three of them. ACTUALLY i can also imagine eleven innocently putting the three of them in bunk beds & being so elated about it that neither rose nor jack want to say anything but they nearly have & all three of them have somehow ended up in the same bunk before. I can picture them just being practically joint at the hip & just about get stuff done because they're always having a great time with one another & need to remember to stop being near indecent to save the world.

twelve, there would be ✨tenderness✨ (especially with rose, similarly to how the moment is with the war doctor) not as much physical contact as the previous regenerations but he'd probably link arms with rose & jack in an old fashioned manner as they’d walk around together. i think rose would adore twelve (both she & jack would tease him for the attack eyebrows though) & wouldn't even really take much notice that he looked a lot older than the previous regenerations because he’s got his usual big doctor personality, even more so as twelve & slightly more ✨unhinged✨ mean personally, i doubt jack would even speak to twelve at points due to the decisions he made concerning missy but despite all that, i think those three would have a wonderful time together. i can just imagine twelvejackrose all trying to fit in one big chair in the tardis library together to sleep whilst twelve rambles on about something. twelve would be the big spoon & would have his arms resting around both of them.

with thirteen i think thirteenjackrose would be similar to eleven where they’d have so much blissful fun together & be practically joint at the hip. her northern accent would be so nostalgic to both rose & jack. there would also be so much flirting between thirteenjackrose that the rest of the companions are nearly always facepalming (cue jack telling them that any of them are open to join in) i can also picture thirteen basically banishing jack to the tardis at first because she is sick of people assuming that he's the doctor & rose always finds that hilarious. people might disagree with me here but i think thirteen would be the big spoon between the three & would hold them both so close. i also think if rose&jack encountered the hologram that they would see thirteen as she is but it would occasionally flicker to other doctors probably both nine&ten.

[jacks-manidiary]

Daydreaming and alterhumanity, and how they intersect

(As a disclaimer, this essay assumes familiarity with both subjects and relating terminology. If you find a word you don't know, feel free to look it up on your own.)

On the surface, it may seem like neuronarration and alterhumanity are two quite different experiences. In one, you fully realize that you are merely an author watching events play out in your head - it's a world you tend to just visit, voluntarily or not. And alterhumanity is the trait of being nonhuman/an alternative identity consistently in your waking, non-dissociated state. But some of you may already be catching the parallels.

Most people perceive their daydreams from the point of view of their parame. In that moment, when you are immersed in the world around you, emotionally (and perhaps even spiritually) you are that parame. You feel it on every level, and many even report a feeling similar to dysphoria when that feeling is interrupted. So of course, it's no wonder that sometimes this connection will persist into the daily life outside of daydreams.

It's quite a common experience to use alterhumanity as a method of escapism, too. And even shifting just rhymes too well with the daydreaming immersion. For many alterhumans, trying to recall their other life can involve vividly perceiving the occasionally quite narratively dramatic events that happened. The two experiences are quite different, but it's easy to see how the line would blur for some.

Both daydreaming and alterhumanity come in a variety of shapes and forms, both involuntary and by choice.

In particular is of interest the veritbonding part of daydreaming that quite a few people experience - it's a case where neuronarration and soulbonding mix together, and I& think it demonstrates the way that daydreaming influences the life of the neuronarrator outside of the fantasy.

All this is to say that neuronarration can very easily become an integral part of your identity. I wouldn't be surprised if perhaps the other way around was possible too, alterhumanity turning into neuronarration, although I& myself& have not heard of such cases.

Now as for my& own experiences with this, I& have felt for quite a long time like my& parames were more than just parames - they were me& directly, on a deeper level.

When you experience the life of someone through their eyes and feel every bit of what's happening to them, when you don't just observe but also act and make decisions as that character, at some point you get attached. At some point, for me&, I& started feeling like the words I& had were insufficient.

And after looking around and seeing that nothing really fit, I& turned to the alterhuman community and, although still not relating entirely in every way, I& think I& found the path for me& to take with my& approach to my& parames.

I& hope this resonates with others who feel that these two subjects intersect, and would love to hear your stories or thoughts on this!

[kitkatt0430]

Iris West-Allen for the character ask game 👀

How I feel about this character

I think she's awesome. We really get to watch her grow over the course of the series and watching her truly discover herself as a leader and hero in her own right is really wonderful to see. While she occasionally has powers here and there, she's a great example of a badass normal and proves that a powered character (Barry) doesn't need a powered love interest in order to be in love with someone who is every bit their equal. Iris is no damsel in distress; she's going to try to find a way to save herself every time.

That said, I wish her agency was more consistently her own. Her plots often get co-opted to serve other character's plots (most often Barry, but it's also been done for Allegra which was just weird...) which puts a lot of her achievements in the background or sub-plot area instead of centering them the way she deserves.

(The fact that she goes from student to journalist with no graduation in between is really frustrating. She's Barry's best friend and yet he's never shown as being super excited to attend her graduation and celebrate her achievement of a Masters degree??? S1, asleep at the wheel right there...)

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Barry, Eddie, Cisco, Caitlin, Lisa, Leonard (more for ColdWestAllen than for ColdWest on it's own though), Ralph (but again more for ElongatedWestAllen than DibnyWest itself), Linda, Laurel, Sara...

Probably more tbh, she's very shippable

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Barry again, I kind of prefer the platonic ship for them because of how their dynamic in S1/S2 is (though obviously the romantic ship grew on me...)

Cisco, Caitlin, Frost, Allegra, Kamilla, Linda, Ralph...

Everyone wants to be besties with her, okay? :D

My unpopular opinion about this character

The show does a terrible job of establishing Iris' feelings for Barry as romantic in the first several seasons.

In season one especially there is so much of other characters telling her how they think she feels, but every time she establishes what her feelings are for him are... those feelings are platonic. Aside from the cheating kiss that was the worst decision ever made by the show runners (and made kinda creepy given how it's been romanticized by later seasons) and was a heat of the moment thing that happened after yet another character (Linda) was telling Iris 'I think you're in love with him based on your stated as platonic, sibling-like behavior with him'.

Basically every 'shippy' moment I've seen pointed out for the first two seasons fits entirely with Iris' stated platonic feelings and can really only be interpreted as romantic interest if her stated feelings are ignored. (Especially Joe trying to get Iris to say she wouldn't have dated Eddie if she knew Barry liked her; way to take what she was just saying out of context despite the context having literally just been established. >_<) Iris is the one living in her own head, I wish other characters would respect that she knows what her emotions are better than they do.

This essentially leads to the problem where when Iris and Barry get together it feels less like it's happening because Iris is in love with Barry and more because everyone and their time-line reading AI has told her she marries Barry. And since trying to deviate from that got Eddie killed, what choice does she really have? She loves Barry, but is she in love with him? It's painfully unclear for quite some time and the show itself doesn't even acknowledge this problem until (briefly) in S9.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish she'd been looped in on Barry being the Flash from the start. Locking her out of the loop 'for her protection' only ever put her in more danger than she'd have been in if she'd been kept aware of what was actually going on.

[maverick-jones-writer]

spilling the tea for AetherNet pt. 2

A/N: hi hi everyone! happy sunday :) I'm gonna share what happens after part 1 and provide more insight into the plot of my story! so far, I have 2000 concrete words written for this story, and I hope to finish chapter one with written words soon, and maybe I'll share it with all of you! I hope you enjoy, and have a day of relaxation today!

So, we left off with this fugitive asking Jaedyn to kill him.

Rightfully so, Jaedyn is like what the fuck no? Like that was the last thing on the list and that's only if he goes to hurt Morgan. He's like no, man I really just want you out of my house (well, alleyway, but still).

But this guy doesn't back down he's like well if you don't wanna do it, she can. That was your plan, right?

Which it was sorta the plan, but he's not gonna admit that right now. So he's like um no way get the fuck out dude, like I'm not gonna kill you, like go out and suffer the consequences of your actions.

So fugitive guy starts freaking out and is like bro absolutely no way, I can't go back there. I can't do it.

Jaedyn is like sorry dude but like you're not gonna get out of this, you'll have to face what they want to do to you.

This is where the second curveball hits and the guy is like it's not about what they'll do to me, it's about what they want to make me do.

That's when it clicks for Jaedyn that if this guy wanted to hurt them, they likely would already be dead. Pieces start forming together here, and he has to make a decision. Now, his logic brain is like this guy is a fugitive, throw him to the fucking street like a dog.

However, Jaedyn gets these intense gut feelings a lot of the time, and occasionally they clash with his logic brain. Whenever he doesn't listen, something bad always happens. Now, his gut feeling is saying to help this guy.

This is the first time his gut instincts and his logic have clashed so harshly, and Jaedyn has like five seconds to decide since the alarm bell has now rang twice, meaning they're gonna start the sweep any fucking second.

Surprising even Jaedyn himself, he goes with his gut, because he actually can help this guy out - he's gotten himself out of level four sweeps before using this trick.

(Quick aside, level four sweeps are done with soldiers walking through the main streets with infrared source detectors. It's the highest level "general sweep" just before level five where they start invading people's homes)

((Last aside, level five sweeps need royal clearance before they can happen, but since they started with a level four, a level five could come a day or two later if there's probable cause during the level four sweep)).

ANYWAYS Jaedyn discovered if you hide behind a solid black metal sheet, it will block the infrared detectors from seeing your core. He keeps a large sheet in the back of the alleyway just in case, so he leads the fugitive back there and is like crouch behind this and do. not. move.

The guy is initially skeptically, and questions Jaedyn, who then says some cool ass line that boils down to "just trust me, bro" and the guy relents and hides.

Jaedyn goes back up to Morgan and gives the "all clear" command, and she's like bro????? we're definitely not clear???? and Jaedyn is like there's nothing wrong so go back to playing, which she does but she's veeeeeery reluctant, which is the first time that has happened in their relationship as well. (Lots of new things happening!)

So, the sweep happens and it's very intense but it works out and the sirens call the all-clear. Jaedyn sighs, and immediately begins thinking of the plan when the fugitive comes like wobbling out. He is like badly shaking and hyperventilating, and he pretty much faints in Jaedyn's arms.

******************************

E/N: Soo, I'm thinking of ending chapter 1 of Jaedyn and Eli's story here? Either here or at the end of part 1, I haven't decided yet. Next part will have more of Eli and Jaedyn before I move on to another character. Toodles!

[dollarbin]

World Party Week meets

Sandy Saturday's: Full Moon

I'm surprised that this week's Dollar Bin hero, Karl Wallinger, never covered Sandy Denny. He recorded plenty of the Beatles catalog before his untimely passing this week, always offering his own respectful (or perhaps I should say reverential) takes on everything from Happiness is a Warm Gun to McCartney's tossed off Man We Was Lonely.

But Wallinger never tossed anything off in the studio; like a later day Jeff Lynne, he assembled his textures with care and plenty of gloss.

And so we are left wishing on this Sandy Saturday that he'd had the chance to recreate one of Denny's perfect songs. Indeed, it'd be lovely to hear more covers of Sandy Denny beyond the many takes of Who Knows Where the Time Goes. I've heard very few other song of her's attempted (which makes sense: people cover Dylan because they're convinced they can sing it better than Bob, and who out there thinks they can sing better than Sandy?).

Even so, there are two Denny covers that come to mind as essential.

First, there's Linda Thompson's take on I'm a Dreamer. As Sandy's occasional singing partner and long time friend, Linda had every right to record such a track - and she clearly knew exactly what she was doing. She even let her husband Richard play some guitar behind her:

Not bad, huh? Check out my recent piece on Linda to hear more of this incredible voice, so frank and soaring at once.

The only other essential Denny cover that comes to mind is Yo La Tengo's humble take on By The Time It Gets Dark. Ira Kaplan understands that, unless you're Linda Thompson, the best approach is to simply pay homage (and not compete) with Sandy.

But if I had my choice for a World Party Denny cover I'd choose Full Moon, a track Denny's bumbling husband didn't even include on her final LP Rendezvous.

Take a listen; passing on this track makes Dylan's decision to put The Disease of Conceit on Oh Mercy instead of Dignity or Series of Dreams, or Neil Young's decision to leave Give Me Strength and Everybody's Alone unreleased for 50 years, look savvy.

Unlike just about everything else on Rendezvous, every effort in this piece works together: the strings rise and fall with a simple plan; the bass lingers and nimbly sways; Denny sings and strikes her piano without being bullied by the silly men in the room.

And the clarinet! Oh my good bananas, name me another piece of popular modern music that successfully employs a clarinet (my famous brother, red faced and ashamed for me, is likely assembling a list of 68 clarinet-riddled classics as we speak, alongside the list of great Sandy Denny covers that I failed to mention; and I guess I just thought of one clarinet track: Feist's The Circle Married the Line probably has an entire clarinet consortium playing in it, and that song is mighty fine).

Just imagine what Wallinger could have done with a song like Full Moon. He would have followed Kaplan's lead and sang it simply; his piano and guitar would trade off the solos and everything would be note perfect. The pace would be stately; maybe he'd even have brought in some of his own backing vocals. The full moon would be rising so high above the skies.

Wikipedia tells me that Wallinger had 20 years of unreleased new music in the can when he died. Let's get busy hoping his version of Full Moon is in that horde.

Imagine Karl right now in whatever afterlife suits your fancy. John Lennon's there, gleefully ranting and thoughtful all at once. But Karl knows what's up; he fist bumps John and passes him by, hunting for Sandy's certain glow in the heavens.

[iasconsumesmedia]

20 questions for fic writers!

I got tagged by @crestfallercanyon, thank you!

How many works do you have on AO3? - 68 apparently.

What’s your total A03 word count? - 219K words. Wow. Considering most of my fics are under 10K that's a lot of words. More than I thought.

What fandoms do you write for? - the Maze Runner and Teen Wolf mainly, but I've also written, or intended to write for a few others, like recently Avatar The Last Airbender

What are your top five fics by kudos? - All of them are Teen wolf fics, and essentially all Sterek: Mother's Day, It's only words except it's not, Thanks Dad, Provider, New Years Eve. I'm too lazy to link all of these. I've written most fics for Maze runner though, but the fandom is so small there and I don't write Newtmas, so none of those fics have any impressive kudos count.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? - Look, I try. And I almost always do. But if all my comment would say is Thank You, then sometimes I don't. I am very appreciative of every single one of them.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - Without You, I'm Nothing A Thominho fic where the Main Character Death is very very real.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Tricky to respond to, honestly, because what does happy ending mean? Most my fics include characters ending up together and in a happier life than before, but I think the happiest ending I've ever written was The Name simply because so many people were made happy in the end.

Do you get hate on your fic? - Not to my face, no. I'm sure I've pissed people off, or rather I hope I have, but if so they haven't told me so.

Do you write smut? - Occasionally, but I'm not very good at it and it often turns out a little too dry.

Do you write crossovers? - No, and I will not, and I also avoid them like the plague and frankly, if there's a hidden crossover in a fic I will stop reading and never forgive that fic writer.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? - As far as I know, no.

Have you ever had a fic translated? - Yes! For the translation event @its-tea-time-darling ran, don'tbeshy translated my fic Calm into French. That's one of my favourite fics I've ever written and also I think, one of my most appreciated ones.

Have you ever co-written a fic? - I have not, but I would consider it if someone felt we had similar vibes about relationships.

What‘s your all-time favourite ship? - Well. Hard to say, but I think it's Thominho and a big part of that is how well it works in canon. Even Trashner himself said it's the strongest relationship, even if he meant it as only platonic. But that's what I want to see to really ship two characters, that I don't have to add too much to canon to get them together. I also very much enjoy Thominho and of course Sterek, for probably very similar reasons.

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? - I have a WIP where the gladers are all Sorcerers and there's a thing about reincarnation and it's a Thominewt fic and I love it very much but hand over heart - unlikely it will ever be finished. It also isn't posted, so that only affects me.

What’s your writing strengths? - As a fic writer, I think I can take very small traits or lines and turn them into key features for a character and expand on them into some good fics.

What’s your writing weaknesses? - I think a lot about mental health and healthy relationships, and as a result, most of my characters know what advice to give each other and they don't get themselves into too bad situations. This can sometimes lead to more dull stories than if I enjoyed fucking them up. When I do fuck them up they usually make the right decision in the end.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? - See this? This entire message? And also every single fic I have on Ao3 except one? Yeah it's written in another language already. I'm Swedish. This question is weird.

First fandom you wrote for? - Harry Potter. First I published for: Maze Runner

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? - Oh dear.

Hm.

You're just like magic, a Thominho fic, is one of them. But I tihnk other than that, all the ones I've already mentioned. But Also Hey there little red riding hood with Thomas in a Red hoodie and Teresa as a werewolf, which I still like very much and which has received very little love (but Thomesa fics aren't that popular at all in an already small fandom so)

I think everyone I would tag have already been tagged, but if you want to do this, do it and say I tagged you!

[kaisarion-tactical]

Decisions | O'Breckenridge

After recent events... this one hurts.

EB -> SO: Sorry, change of plans. Meet me in the mess for dinner?

SO -> EB: No problem. I’ll find you later.

The news that they’d been cleared of suspicion in Cliffords’ death was a relief to hear, but Eisley knew that it meant back to work. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed, knowing that it meant a change in her plans with Séan. She’d gotten excited about the idea of spending the afternoon together, just hanging out like two normal people, a pocket of normalcy amid all the chaos and suspicion of everything else going on. 

No rest for the wicked, she supposed. 

She pulled out her phone and fired off a quick text message, smiling sadly at Séan’s quick response and flexibility about the change in plans. The way that she could hurt this man if she wasn’t careful. 

She listened as Kit provided an update on the situation, and the squad discussed the next course of action. More hacking into personnel and other files, identifying people worth talking to for information gathering purposes. Sgt. Hadrin had been on security detail that night; Eisley would need to talk to him, find out if he saw anyone unusual in the barracks that evening.

After a few hours of focused research and discussion, Eisley stood. “I’m going to mess for dinner. You coming?” she asked Rachel who was hovering over her laptop, typing furiously. 

“Yeah, in a bit,” Rachel replied.

Eisley sighed. “Don’t just subsist on Red Bull, okay? I’ll bring you something back.”

She made her way to the mess, letting herself be carried by the flow of bodies through the hall. She made her way through the line: some chicken dish, a rare occasion that they actually had a real piece of meat. Scanning the tables, she caught sight of at a table with a few other soldiers and made her way over. 

She slowed when several sets of eyes turned toward her as she approached. Séan grinned when he saw her, and the others dropped their eyes back to their dinner, although Eisley could still feel the occasional lingering glance. 

“Sorry I had to change plans this afternoon. Kit showed up right as I was getting ready, and well… duty calls, all that.”

“Hey, no problem. I get it. Things change at the drop of the hat. It’s the nature of the job.” 

Eisley smiled. She found Séan’s foot beneath the table, knocking her boot against his. She glanced up and Séan was watching her, and they held each other’s gaze for a long minute before Eislely looked away, a soft blush colouring her cheeks. A moment passed and there was an answering tap of a boot against her own beneath the table. 

“I was thinking next time we have an opportunity, we should go to the range.”

“The range?” Séan returned. “What for?”

Eisley, eyes still downcast, shrugged. “I want to see you shoot. Maybe we could have a friendly competition.”

Eisley could hear the smile in Séan’s voice. “Yeah?”

She glanced up briefly. “Yeah.” 

There was another tap of a boot against hers beneath the table, except this time there was sustained contact. Eisley could feel her face heating again. They might as well have been holding hands. Her finger clenched around her fork at the thought. 

“Where are you on shift tonight?” she asked.

“Exterior checkpoint duty. Why? You planning to come say hi?”

Eisley rolled her eyes. “Just curious and making conversation. It’s probably not a great idea to distract you while you’re on shift.” 

A small smile pulled at Séan’s mouth. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, but he tapped his foot against hers against the table once more. 

Eisley narrowed her eyes. “Tell me,” she pressed.

Séan’s ears went red. “I’d be distracted anyway,” he admitted. 

Eisley couldn’t handle this, her face hot once more at Séan’s words. “I said I’d bring something back for Rach since I don’t trust that she’ll eat dinner otherwise. We’ll make plans. For the shooting range.”

“Right. Just shoot me a text. You know where to find me.”

Eisley hovered for a few more seconds before picking up her empty tray and weaving her way through the tables and back into the line. 

She ignored the lingering glances as she went. 

[gwydionae]

Bound

A/N: Why is Leo so hard to write?? T^T

Fic posted on fanfiction.net >here<.

Prologue on tumblr >here< Previous chapter on tumblr >here<

Fic Teaser: Yoshi is forever changed when he loses a son so soon after his wife and daughter. Life in the lair is far from idyllic as a father’s desire to shelter his sons causes friction and rebellion. But as they are bound to him, their lost brother remains bound to others, the life he’d lost kept hidden from him. Fate tore them apart, but now it seeks to bring them together once more.

Chapter Teaser: Leonardo's top priority was always to protect the family he loved, even if that sometimes meant making decisions they would not agree with.

Bound: Chapter 3

2005 - Hamato Leonardo, age 8

The dojo was Leonardo's favorite place in the entire world. Of course, he had barely ever left the lair, so there were very few places that had a possibility of topping such a list, but even so, his young mind had difficulty imagining anywhere better. The warm, colorful rugs felt soft under his feet, the large dividers depicting fierce ninja warriors inspired him to train hard, and the impossible tree breathed new life into him every time he sat beneath it. But perhaps most of all was his awe at the sheer number of weapons that lined the walls.

Each one held a story, and whether about a fight for survival or a more simple tale of childhood training, he sat in rapt attention, eager to hear every last word. The kama had once been merely gardening tools, used to harvest rice before thieves and raiders helped them realize a different purpose. A corrupt policeman had once carried the jitte before an ancestor of the Hamato Clan had revealed his wickedness, taking his place and wielding it for the good of the people. But Leonardo's favorite story was about the twin katana, passed down from father to son with each new generation, their bearers always destined to become great warriors and leaders.

His brothers did not carry the same love of such stories. They had listened well enough any time a new one was presented, and they did have their favorites—Raphael enjoying the intense tale of the ambushed warrior who fought for hours with only a pair of sai while Michelangelo laughed at Splinter's own recollection of his difficulty mastering the nunchaku. But often during retellings Leo would catch the older of the two yawning, his gaze drifting toward the younger who would get so caught up in pretending to act out the scenes that he'd wind up creating a story of his own. Mikey would be reprimanded for his distraction, and Raph would jump up, grab his hand, and drag him off to play elsewhere. The quiet was welcome, Master Splinter's captivating voice echoing loud and clear once more, but as the story finished and their sensei retreated to his room, the sudden emptiness of the dojo brought with it a loneliness that compelled Leonardo to run and seek his brothers' company.

The three had grown up playing together. Whether games of tag, wrestling, or imagining themselves proud ninja, it had been rare to find them separated. As they continued to grow, however, a shift began to take place, one that Leonardo did not immediately recognize.

He had always been the one who most enjoyed their sensei's stories, both recalled from memory or read from thick tomes, so it was no surprise that he took to learning to read the quickest of his brothers. Mikey had trouble focusing his attention on any single task for too long—an issue that Splinter attempted time and time again to correct with little success—and Raph only studied because he hated the idea of Leo being better than him at anything. But Leonardo would read for fun, enjoying the feel of the books in his hands and the dramatic worlds they transported him to. As such, he was often found sitting quietly with their sensei, occasionally whispering a meek interruption of the silence with a clarification on a word or phrase. He enjoyed those times, but inevitably his young body and mind would grow restless, and he'd politely excuse himself before running back to join the more raucous pastimes of his brothers.

Their dynamics, however, had shifted. Where once they would all content themselves with taking turns at playing the villainous clan leader invading their home, Leo found himself occupying the role more and more often. And when he'd find them in the midst of hide-and-seek, he was always immediately made the seeker. His attempts to argue against such bias were met with indignation from Raphael who insisted that the two of them had already had their turns; it was Leo's own fault he hadn't been there at those times. Occasionally Michelangelo would convince Raph to switch things up, but it often wasn't worth the effort, the size of his brother's temper growing perhaps even more steadily than his body.

This particular day had been one of the increasingly rare times when all three brothers had spent it in perfect harmony. Morning training had gone smoothly, their schooling had involved a cooperative math game that they won with flying colors, and Mikey had even gotten a light chuckle out of Splinter over dinner. So when the evening fell, signaling that it was time for their sensei to head out for supplies, and the three boys were still playing happily and together, he allowed them the privilege of staying awake until he returned.

The prospect had been thrilling. With Master Splinter gone, they were free to be as loud as their vocal cords permitted or run as fast as their legs could carry them, even in rooms they normally avoided so as to leave their sensei in peace. This, of course, meant that every one of them headed straight for the dojo.

But it was soon after entering that Leonardo began wondering if this had been such a good idea. Michelangelo had been quick to shimmy up the tree, something Leo instantly pointed out they did not have permission to do. Raphael had then gone over to the wall of weapons and removed a long bo staff, claiming that Mikey was a spy from another clan that needed to be dealt with while holding the staff out to his older brother with a grin, waiting for him to take it and join in.

Leonardo could only frown. They were too young to be wielding real weapons. Master Splinter was often reinforcing the idea of how dangerous they were in untrained hands; what if one of them got hurt while he was away? He tried again to remind his brothers of their sensei's warnings, plead with them to listen, but Raph merely rolled his eyes, promising to not touch anything sharp as he kept the bo for himself and prodded at a giggling Mikey with the end of it.

Visions of ninja warriors past breaking the bones of their opponents by smashing the staff into them filled Leonardo's head as he watched Mikey gleefully swing from the tree, narrowly avoiding Raph's reach. His continued words of caution and alarm fell on deaf ears, however, as the youngest plucked a pair of nunchaku from the wall and began swinging them around wildly. One moment the dojo was filled with delighted laughter, the next, shocked silence as a dull thwack stopped everyone in their tracks. Michelangelo had hit himself in the eye.

Leo and Raph had both run to him before the first cry of pain could even escape his mouth. A closer investigation assured them that it was not bleeding, but Leonardo was quick to take his sobbing brother by the arm and lead him out of the dojo and down to the kitchen where he sat him on a stool and made to grab for an ice pack. By the time he had gotten Mikey to calm down enough to hold the ice pack himself, Raph entered as well, guilt from what had happened written all over his face.

Raphael told them that he would take the blame, claim fault for Mikey's injury; they were roughhousing, and he'd been careless. It wasn't as if it would be the first time, and he had made sure to replace the weapons they'd borrowed, hiding the evidence. Mikey was already suffering enough; no reason to get him in further trouble.

Leonardo didn't know how to respond. Sitting quietly while Michelangelo weakly protested and Raphael stubbornly stood his ground, the eldest contemplated the proposal, a seed of anxiety planting itself in his brain. Both of his siblings had disobeyed direct orders from Master Splinter, and if they'd done so once, it was likely they would do it again, especially if their sensei remained ignorant of the infractions. Such rules were in place for a reason, the exact reason that had his baby brother sniffling with an ice pack pressed against his eye. He did not wish to see either of them hurt like this again.

And so when only a short while later Splinter found his sons still in the kitchen, demanding to know what had happened, Leonardo opened his mouth and told the whole truth. About Mikey climbing the tree, Raph with the bo staff, and finally the incident with the nunchaku. The surprise on his youngest brother's face was nothing to the betrayal on the older's.

Raphael and Michelangelo both got punished for their disobedience, and though Splinter praised him for his honesty, Leonardo couldn't help but feel slightly despondent when he walked into the dojo the next morning and found all of the weapons previously lining the walls had been hidden away. Both Raph and Mikey—sporting a patch over his eye—were unsurprisingly cold to him during training, and all attempts to play with them afterwards were met with glares and loud proclamations from Raphael about how whatever game they were playing required only two turtles.

Over the next several days, Leonardo contented himself with reading, believing that given enough time his brothers would eventually allow him to join them once more. But as days turned into weeks without any sign of Raphael changing his mind, Leo began to fear the damage was irreparable. Once his patch had come off, eye fully healed, Mikey would agree to play with him every once in a while, but Raph would never join, always stomping off to his room on such occasions.

Leo tried to explain, make his brothers understand that he had only done what he had to protect them, to keep his family safe. Master Splinter's tales of loss and sorrow were proof that loved ones could be taken at any moment without warning. But they didn't seem to care enough to listen, and so he dedicated himself to carrying that heavy burden alone, even if the ones he sought to protect rejected him for it. ________________________________________

2012

Leonardo could only groan in frustration as the van's doors slammed shut and the vehicle took off down the alley, the human girl locked inside by the armored turtle—the turtle that looked just like him and his brothers. Now was not the time to dwell on the matter, however. Peeling his gaze away from the retreating van, he turned toward Michelangelo who he was relieved to find awake, an anxious Raphael crouched above him with wide, green eyes. He quickly hurried over to them.

"We can't stay in the open like this," he said, sheathing his katana as he knelt next to Mikey opposite from Raph. "I'm worried about possible internal injuries or a concussion, but we have to risk moving him. We have to get to the sewers."

Raphael nodded sharply, but Michelangelo made a weak attempt to sit up. "I'm—I'm ok..."

A sudden coughing fit had two hands shooting out and gently resting on the younger's plastron, his older brothers both stalling his movement as Raph said stiffly, "You just got fried—you are not ok." He looked up at Leo before continuing, "The closest sewer entrance should be right in that alley." He jerked his head toward the space the van had recently occupied. "You go first. I'll lower him down to you."

The ease with which his younger siblings had navigated the manmade streets and rooftops earlier that night had been indication enough that this was not their first trip above ground, so Leonardo didn't doubt that the manhole would be right where Raphael indicated. Knowing that time was of the essence, he merely frowned and stored that information away for later. With a nod, he darted into the nearby alley, blue eyes peeled as he searched for their exit to the sewers. Upon spotting it, he quickly leaned down and pried it open, glancing up at Raphael who had carefully scooped Michelangelo into his arms and was steadily making his way over. Entering the dark underground, Leonardo balanced himself on the ladder as Raphael gently lowered their brother down to him. Ignoring the further assurances that he was fine and could descend the ladder himself, Leo eased Mikey into the sewer until they had reached the bottom, the younger forced to sit still as the eldest examined him more closely.

The only notable outward signs of injury were a small bump on the back of his head from when he'd fallen and burn marks on his arm where the electric shock must have originated from. He admitted to his muscles feeling sore and pain in the area of the burns, as well as having a headache and feeling slightly dizzy. The occasional coughing was worrisome, but he was responding well to all verbal and physical inspection, able to answer questions easily and moving extremities on command. Pulling out the roll of fresh bandages he had need of more often than he'd like, Leonardo carefully wrapped the burns before reaching out to take Michelangelo in his arms.

"You don't have to carry me," said Mikey with a pout.

"We have to get you back to the lair, and I don't want you falling because of a dizzy spell," said Leonardo calmly before looking up at Raphael. "We need to keep him as steady as we can, just in case. Reach under his shoulders and knees, and grasp my hands." As Raphael gave him a stiff nod, he turned back to Michelangelo, "Wrap your arms around our necks."

"Fine," the youngest mumbled, wincing as he moved his arms to do as he was told.

The lack of further argument sent Leonardo's thoughts spiraling down a rabbit hole of the worst possible scenarios as he and Raphael stood, cradling their brother between them. Raph's own silence throughout the entire ordeal was evidence enough that he was similarly anxious. He was only ever this quiet for this long when Mikey was unwell or the volatile turtle himself was fast asleep.

The trek back to the lair felt like it stretched to eternity, Leonardo trusting Raphael's directions as the events of the night played over and over in his mind. It was hard to believe that merely a few hours ago they were all having dinner together, discussing the fate of someone who very well may have just come close to killing Michelangelo and successfully kidnapped a young girl.

There was a time when he was much younger that Leonardo dreamed of being the one to someday find their lost brother and bring him home. That vision of an unknown turtle excited to be reunited with his family had faded as he'd grown, however, Master Splinter's vague and melancholic assumptions about what had befallen Donatello fully convincing him that anything left of their brother would be unrecognizable. And yet on merely his second misadventure to the streets above there'd been no mistaking the three-fingered hands, green scales, and large shell as that of a mutant turtle. It was impossible to know for sure if it was truly Donatello—he was a fair amount taller than the rest of them with gapped teeth and eyes that more closely matched their sensei's than any of the three brothers—but the similarities were uncanny.

Master Splinter had taught them that everything happens for a reason. His tragedy in Japan was what lead him to New York, which in turn lead to him buying four turtles as pets, their strange mutations, and ultimately providing them all with a new family and purpose. So what if—just what if Raph's tantrum lead them on a chase across city rooftops to the exact place they needed to be in order to reunite with the one they'd lost?

Feeling the weight of the all too quiet Michelangelo in his arms made him wonder if such a twist of fate was a divine gift or devilish cruelty.

Thoughts on exactly what he was going to tell their sensei still scattered and confused, Leonardo suddenly realized that they were already standing at the entrance to the lair. Carefully lifting their younger brother over the turnstiles, they made it to the bottom of the stairs before he motioned to Raphael to lower Michelangelo's legs to the ground.

"Give him some medicine for the pain, then find the honey for his burns," he said as he gently extricated himself from Mikey's grasp. "Remove the old bandage, put the honey on a fresh one, and rewrap his arm. I'll get Sensei, and meet up with you."

Raphael didn't even open his mouth to argue, simply giving him a short nod as his grip tightened around Michelangelo's shell, and he began leading him in the direction of the bathroom. Trying to ignore the wincing and coughing, Leonardo heard Raphael's voice finally escaping in whispered reassurances, his tone soft and soothing in a way he reserved solely for the youngest's ears. Closing his eyes, Leonardo took a deep, calming breath before turning toward the dojo with determined steps.

The smell of burning incense gifted him the smallest ounce of relief. A part of him had been worried that their sensei had noticed their absence and gone searching for them. They all had been trained in first aid, but none of them had been in a situation like this until now. Master Splinter's mere presence helped ground his thoughts. He quickly approached the sliding doors at the back and lightly knocked on the frame.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sensei," he said, trying to mask the concern in his voice, "but Michelangelo has been injured. He received an electrical shock, and—"

He was cut off as the door was abruptly shoved open, Splinter standing before him with sharp eyes, brows creased with worry.

"Take me to him," he said as he left the confines of his private room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

With a nod, Leonardo hurried toward the bathroom, Master Splinter on his heels. Upon arrival, they saw Michelangelo sitting on the toilet, bandage slowly being removed by Raphael. Next to him was the retrieved honey and fresh gauze, a glance at the sink further revealing an open box of pain medication as well as a nearly empty cup of water. Leonardo watched their sensei's eyes pinch in confusion as the burn marks were revealed, his tail anxiously twitching behind him.

"What happened?" Splinter asked, gently reaching out to more closely inspect the burns. "How did such an injury occur?"

"It was Donnie, Sensei."

As the words fell from Michelangelo's tongue, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Time seemed to stand still as the name of their missing brother hung between them, Master Splinter's fur rising, ears erect and eyes wide. Raphael shot Leonardo an unreadable glance before returning his gaze to their sensei.

Mikey pushed on, voice growing in intensity. "It was really him—another mutant turtle! And he was with a bunch of dudes that all looked the same and talked real weird, just like you always said! He was just like us, except taller and—" A sudden coughing fit cut off his words, Raph instinctually reaching out and placing a hand on his shell.

Master Splinter's calm but firm voice rang in the bathroom as the coughing quieted down, "You received these injuries while in the city above?"

If the same warning bells ringing in Leonardo's head were also going off in Michelangelo's, he gave no indication of hearing them, barreling on with his fantastical sounding story without hesitation, "Yeah, they all came out of this van and—"

"Do my words mean so little to you that you disobey them the moment my back is turned?" The sharp rebuke, laced with a deep despair that filled Leonardo with guilt, at last sobered Mikey's enthusiasm. "I only seek to protect you, protect what we have, and yet you disregard my warnings." His gaze swept around to each of the brothers before returning to the burned arm cradled in his hands. "We may not understand the complete extent of the damage from an injury such as this for some time. We are fortunate his heart still beats, but his lungs may yet fail, and I do not know if there is anything I can do if such a thing were to happen."

Leo stiffened at their sensei's disturbing report, and he noticed Raph's grip on Mikey's shell tighten.

"It's my fault, Sensei," said Raph, clearly forcing a strength into his voice he did not feel, "I was the one who—"

"Excepting blame is of little importance now. We can only hope that our collective faults do not bring further tragedy upon us."

Leonardo did not miss Raphael's flinch at the implication of Master Splinter's words while he himself focused on his breathing in an attempt to keep his heart from racing out of his chest. For the first time that evening, Mikey's gaze reflected their uneasiness.

With a sigh and a softened tone, Master Splinter turned to Leonardo. "Go and heat some water to fill the hot water bottle. Leave it under Michelangelo's blankets to warm his bed." Glancing next to Raphael, he said, "Prepare the honey bandage so I may use it when ready."

"Hai, Sensei," came the unison response as Leonardo swiftly strode out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, grateful for the opportunity to actively help. Doing as he was instructed, he waited for the water to reach the proper temperature before filling the bottle and taking it to his youngest brother's room. He quickly tidied the messy bed and placed the warm water bottle under the covers before returning to the bathroom in time to see the examination finished, Master Splinter gently rewrapping the burn marks. Instructed to grab an ice pack for Michelangelo's headache, he left once again, returning with his cargo just as Master Splinter walked out of the bathroom, Mikey being helped along by Raph close behind.

Nodding his thanks to Leonardo, their sensei took the ice pack and passed it to Raphael. "Take Michelangelo to his room. Do not leave his side. I will be with you both shortly."

Watching his brothers head off to Michelangelo's room, Leonardo braced himself as Master Splinter turned to him, gaze hardening as he said, "Come with me."

"Hai, Sensei." The eldest gave a slight, stiff bow as he followed the ninja master up the stairs and into the dojo, seating himself properly on one of the colorful rugs, waiting for permission to speak.

Master Splinter briefly entered his private chamber, retrieving his walking stick before exiting again, sliding the door shut behind him. Making his way back to stand in front of Leonardo, the turtle noticed he was leaning on the stick more heavily than usual as he took a deep, calming breath.

"I do not know what exactly took place that lead the three of you to venture above, but I can guess well enough," he said at last. "Even so, as the oldest of your brothers, as their leader, you carry an especially heavy burden. It falls on your shoulders to guide them when I cannot, to keep them safe, no matter the situation. They are your responsibility because I believed you to be capable of bearing it."

Leonardo did his best to show no outward signs at the use of past tense, but still he felt his jaw stiffen as shame poured over him. He blinked but refused to break eye contact as Master Splinter continued.

"The injuries Michelangelo suffered..." He paused, seeming to be considering his words carefully. "I know he was insistent that he came into contact with—" The grip on the walking stick tightened as his tail twitched. "—with Donatello. But with the severity of his injuries, I feared his memories of the situation may not be completely in tact. And so I ask you, my son: what happened tonight?"

Despite all of his pondering of exactly what to say, how best to describe the encounter, Leonardo still found himself hesitating under his sensei's penetrating stare. At last, he spoke.

"Raphael was unsatisfied with our conversation over dinner. When he chose to leave despite your warnings, Michelangelo decided to go with him. I tried to stop them both, but I failed to do so and wound up chasing them through the city. Their knowledge of the streets and rooftops lead me to believe that they had made similar trips in the past, but before I could ask them, Michelangelo pointed out two humans standing next to a van. They were identical, and Michelangelo claimed that he had heard them talking strangely."

Leonardo paused as his eyes glanced down to Master Splinter's hands which were now grasping his stick so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Raising his gaze once more, he could see his sensei's calm facade beginning to crack, the barest hints of hope and despair mixing on his face. Leo's hands curled into fists in his lap.

"As a human girl came walking around the corner, the two identical humans went to grab her while two more just like them came out of the back of the van. However, there was a third individual with them, one that not only looked different but wasn't a human at all. It looked like a mutant turtle—like us."

The mask of stoicism finally crumbled, Splinter's soft brown eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. "Donatello," he murmured barely above a whisper.

Legs itching to jump up from their formal position to offer comfort to the one who had raised them, given them so much, Leonardo willed himself to remain seated as he pressed on with his recount of the night. "Michelangelo, convinced it was Donatello, headed straight for him, while Raphael and I attempted to hold off the others. While dispatching the two closest to the girl, I discovered that they weren't human at all but robots with strange, pink creatures controlling them from inside their chests."

Describing them out loud made Leo realize exactly how bizarre the whole situation had been, but recalling what had happened next flung it once more from his mind. "It was at that point I heard Raphael call out Michelangelo's name. I didn't see what happened, but Mikey was lying in the street while Raph began attacking the other turtle. He was covered in some sort of high-tech battle armor, though, and he began flying around shooting at us. I went to help Raph, but in doing so, I left the girl behind, and the other turtle grabbed her. I tried to give chase, but I wasn't fast enough to reach them before they drove off, and I couldn't leave Raph and Mikey behind."

Splinter's ears had drooped during the retelling. "This... other turtle," he began quietly, "he was attacking you?"

Leonardo swallowed the lump forming in his throat at the sight of his sensei's despair, nodding. "Mikey said that he was the one who caused the burn marks on his arm. The other turtle grabbed him, and... Sensei?"

Splinter was no longer looking at him, eyes closed and head bowed. A rush of panic ran down Leo's spine as he noticed him swaying slightly before his legs gave out beneath him.

"Father!"

Springing to his feet, Leo reached out just in time to catch Splinter under his arms and carefully lower him to the floor. The usually tall, proud ninja now sat hunched over, hands on the well-worn rug trembling as he gasped for breath. Heart pounding, Leo felt his own composure slipping away as he fought to remain strong.

"You have to breathe, Sensei," he said, ignoring the crack in his voice as Splinter looked up at him. "Breathe with me."

Leonardo began counting as he slowly took a breath through his nose and then released it through his mouth, relief washing over him as his sensei mimicked the action. The two sat like that for several minutes until at last Master Splinter pushed himself into an upright seating position, hand resting on Leonardo's shoulder.

"Thank you, my son."

As grateful as he was to hear the strength return to Splinter's voice, the grief and worry still visible on his face stayed Leo's hand, leaving it resting gently on his father's back. It was small in its offering of comfort but all he could think to give. He had never seen him in such a state, their firm foundation, so rarely even shaken, for the first time appeared broken and weak.

"Even if those robots were the same men that took Donatello fifteen years ago, there's still a chance that the turtle attacking us was someone else."

Leonardo's words held no real conviction, so it did not surprise him when Master Splinter shook his head.

"The three of you venturing above ground and discovering another turtle tonight of all nights..." His eyes were focused as he held Leonardo's gaze, "Everything happens for a reason, and it is impossible for me to accept this as anything other than a sign that it is not too late. We have been given a gift. Whether it contains a means to gain back what was stolen from us or merely permits an end to our ignorance, we must not allow it to be taken from us once more."

Gripping his walking stick firmly in one hand and Leonardo's shoulder with the other, Master Splinter rose to his feet, pulling himself up to his full height, his eldest rising with him. Standing at attention with his arms at his sides, Leonardo asked, "What should we do?"

"I cannot leave Michelangelo, but I dare not send you and Raphael to search for your brother alone," he said, the regret behind the words enough to renew Leonardo's guilt over his failure as a leader. His tone suddenly shifted, however, the mask of stoicism finally settling once more onto Master Splinter's face, "We should know by tomorrow night the full depths of your brother's condition. If no signs of further internal injuries appear, he should be well enough to stay behind on his own to rest. I shall then assist you and Raphael above, searching for any indication as to where Donatello may have gone."

An uneasiness settled in Leonardo's stomach at his sensei's words. While mere hours ago the idea of being able to join their ninja master on a mission would have thrilled him, he could not shake the image of Splinter collapsing during his debriefing, breath ragged, countenance contorted with raw emotion. If this was how he reacted to simply hearing about their long-lost brother, he wasn't sure it would be wise to find out how he would react to seeing him in the middle of enemy territory. On top of that, the turtle they were trying to save appeared to have no interest in being saved. He was working with his kidnappers, and there was no way to tell if it was by choice or coercion. After the way he ruthlessly attacked Mikey and Raph, Leonardo couldn't help but believe that the most likely outcome of their second meeting would involve an end rather than a beginning. And for the first time in his life, Leonardo worried that Splinter's desire to protect his family combined with the guilt over a son's loss would create a devastating chemical reaction, destroying the life they'd worked so hard to build for themselves.

He hesitated, before opening his mouth to speak, "Our number one priority has always been to protect this family. I understand that Donatello is one of us, and if that was him tonight, we have a duty to at least try to bring him home. But he's dangerous. And after what just happened..." he paused, the idea of voicing out loud their master's weakness feeling taboo and ominous. Steeling his nerves, he filled his words with a confidence he did not feel, "My brothers and I will handle this. We know what he is capable of. There is no need to put yourself at risk."

"No." The response was firm and immediate. "I am responsible for losing him. A father will not send his sons to correct his mistakes without him." Without waiting for a rebuttal, Master Splinter began walking toward the dojo's exit, saying, "We must check on your brothers. Come."

Following behind dutifully, Leonardo remained silent. He had known his proposal would be rejected before he had even considered saying it aloud, but that did nothing to ease his concerns. He had inherited his father's strong will and desire to protect that which he most loved, and that desire was what sent a shiver up his spine at the idea of Splinter coming face-to-face with an unrelenting Donatello. He knew that if it came down to their long-lost brother or the rest of their family, both he and Raph would not hesitate to choose the latter. The fact that the same could not be said for their sensei was not something he was willing to ignore.

Leonardo decided then and there that he would do whatever he could to leave Master Splinter, a father who had never finished grieving, as far from his lost son as possible until he could make sure that the reunion would be a happy one. ________________________________________

A/N: They're all messed up in their own ways, but they're trying their best. A special thank you to Diporae for helping make the first aid at least slightly more believable and cheering me on when I was struggling—I hope it turned out ok in the end!

As always, critics and grammar police appreciated!

Chapter 4 on tumblr >here<

[bravewolfvesperia]

Seeing Karol's excitement toward Flynn was just... nice. It reminded him just how much had changed. Karol had been there when Estelle was still searching for Flynn. He'd been the first one unfamiliar with Flynn in their group, completely in the dark about him. Yuri couldn't imagine his impression was all that great at first with how tense everything was, even if that was partly Yuri's own fault... and they had been so on and off with the knights with Flynn at the center of most of it that it had almost worried Yuri that everyone's impression of Flynn had been wrongly colored for good.

"I don't think we'll be living there permanently or anything, but... I guess it'll be a sort of part time residence, like what I'm already doing now." This was no doubt the busiest he'd ever been in his life, and it helped to have more than one place to stay regularly. Inn expenses were going to get to be too much otherwise. Most of his work was in Dahngrest or requested there, while Zaphias was just home to him. Aurnion would be an extension for their work, but it was as good a place as any. In some way, it was like a combination of Dahngrest and Zaphias, and that suited him fine.

Granted, seeing Flynn in Aurnion was probably easier than Dahngrest. It would definitely be a more doable trip for him. With Judith as part of their guild, Ba'ul was more or less an honorary member, and it made travel for them much easier. It also helped with their jobs and the speed they accomplished them, and it was definitely helping their reputation. Not too long ago, Yuri had come across a few knights he used to work with during his time as a knight who had mentioned they'd been hearing his name more often in the line of guild work, and that it was sometimes even in the same sentence as Don Whitehorse.

Hearing things like that had always been so... weird. Yuri was just... Yuri. When it came down to it, he was just an ordinary person. He was no Don Whitehorse. No Commandant Alexei. No Captain Schwann. No Commandant Flynn. As it was, he wasn't even sure he had a place standing with two of those great people on a regular day, but he was around Raven much more than frequently as Dahngrest residents in the same line of work. As it were, plain and simple, Yuri Lowell had been a dear and close friend to quite literally the two most important people in the knights. The idea that such an ordinary person was so deeply tied to such people was just... weird.

But that tended to go away when he was alone or in private with those people. Even right now, with Repede so plainly happy to be in Flynn's presence, it was easy to forget Flynn was any sort of political figure. Maybe it was because they were getting older and taking over for the people before him, but none of them truly felt to Yuri like they were such heavy game changers yet. They were getting there though, weren't they... He and Flynn still felt a bit too young for that, but if the older people ahead of them weren't going to do it, they didn't have much choice.

It was Flynn's gaze and tap against his foot that reminded him none of that needed thinking about right now. Since shortly before they'd stopped the Adephagos, Flynn had been smiling like that more often. It was enough to keep him attached to the present and not overthink things, even if it did occasionally lead him to spotting thoughts of their past. Well, he was back to normal then even as the new commandant. Really, it did help to know he was still him even in his new position.

Not that Yuri hadn't lost himself for a while too, and more than once. He knew it was Alexei's doing that caused all those problems, but the pain of it all was healing. Flynn wasn't the only one getting himself back together. Yuri could assuredly say he was back too. Maybe the day would come again when he needed to make a difficult decision, but he wouldn't - couldn't - let him affect him like that anymore. Flynn hadn't said a damn thing to him about it, but Yuri knew it was just... time to move on. Time to live again.

When they had finished eating, Karol had been on the move before Yuri could get up and clean their spots. Whoops. The kid must have been realizing his autopiloting turned on when there were more than two people in the house. He had set the table, filled the bowls and filled their drinks, so... he would let it slide. If there was one other thing he needed to start getting used to, it was team efforts; even for things as simple as this. No more doing everything himself like he'd gotten used to when Flynn wasn't around.

Once the spots were clean and he'd rose from the table, Repede perked up. "Yeah. We usually go out around this time. I'm sure Karol wouldn't mind if you were around since he could ask you for help if he needed it though. Otherwise I can always check in on how he did after he's done." He pulled his boots back over and put them back on, opening the door for Repede. Repede walked outside, turned and stopped to wait for Yuri while pointedly looking over at Flynn.

"I think Repede's taking the choice out of your hands." There was amusement in his voice, and he knew Karol would forgive Flynn for not being his first choice of who to hang out with when they weren't all in the same room. But, just to be sure so Yuri didn't appear to be deflecting, he answered for himself too, relaxing his voice to a calming gesture. "Yeah. You can come along. We haven't been out like this just us three in a long time."

“You have plenty of time at least so no rush.” Flynn reminded him as he finally took a spoonful of the stew into his mouth with a hum of approval. He was glad to see that Karol seemed to be improving in his cooking skills. Not that he was ever a bad cook by any means. It seemed like everyone had at least some skill in the kitchen. Even Estellise managed to get the hang out of it after a while. Now if only everyone weren’t so picky… It was near impossible for Flynn to get an idea on what everyone in Brave Vesperia had wanted to eat when they were all traveling together. No matter what he did, everyone never seemed satisfied. 

He does pause in eating his meal to consider Karol’s suggestion and a tiny smile slips across his lips again. “Brave Vesperia might accidentally gain a reputation of always being exactly where they’re needed if that’s the case.” Flynn pointed out, amused. 

But he knew out of all of the guilds, he trusted Brave Vesperia the most. It was biased, Flynn was all too aware of that, but they were making a name for themselves lately. Despite the size of their guild, they were moving up in the world rather quickly. If only the people knew they were the ones responsible for saving Zaphias, not to mention the entire world for that matter. 

“I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you if it comes to that. I’d love to be able to fight along side you both again. I admit, I’ve been feeling a bit pent up myself. I should be glad that the monsters don’t give me as much of a hard time as they used to but it makes me feel as if I’m growing rusty.” 

Had he not had more important things to discuss with Yuri after this (Flynn reminded himself as his heart momentarily skipped a beat at the thought), he would have offered to spar with the man but…well, there was always another time. They both could use a good sparring match before he left though. 

The news of Yuri and Karol setting up a base in Aurnion caught him off guard, to say the least, but then again a lot seemed to be throwing him for a loop tonight. “You’re setting up base over there? Like… Are you moving there?” Flynn falls silent for a moment, blinking dumbly at the two of them before but quickly diving back into the topic at hand. “I mean– Of course! I’d be very interested, if my workload allowed but– I also have an office there so I could easily… you know… decide to work in Aurnion for a couple of days.” 

Flynn felt like he could honestly jump for joy. If they were to set up base at Aurnion, it was likely that he would get to see them both more often. The loneliness from before began to wither away and bloom into something that left him jittery and excited as Karol beamed in response. 

“For real?! That’s awesome!” Karol grinned widely as he turned to Yuri. “That means we’ll get to see Flynn more!” 

Repede gave a bark of agreement, moving to press his head against Flynn’s thigh as the knight reached down to pet him behind the ears with a chuckle. “You’ll have to give me the details later. But you should probably get to eating, Karol, before your food gets cold.” 

“Oh! Right, right.” Karol nodded, turning his attention back to his food. 

Flynn smiled and gave another glance to Yuri, offering the man a gentle smile. He had a lot more he wanted to say at that moment. There were so many words that threatened to spill out in that moment but with a single deep breath, he held them back for now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Instead of speaking his feelings for everyone at the table to hear, Flynn simply shifted his foot to let it nudge at Yuri’s own underneath the table, letting it serve as an unspoken sentence between them. Whatever that sentence was was up to Yuri to decipher.  

He held back a chuckle, ignoring his own red cheeks as he turned and went back to eating his own stew. He let the current conversation drop for now, opting to focus on eating the meal in front of him. He participated in a bit of small talk that Karol couldn’t help but start up again but before too long, their bowls were emptied of the stew and as Karol reached over to grab for Flynn’s bowl, Flynn worked to grab at some of the empty glasses. 

“Yuri, you were going on a walk after this, right?” Flynn asked as he helped Karol gather the dirty dishes. “Would it be alright if I tagged along? I doubt Karol wants me hovering over him while he does his homework…”