#trust me i know that because that's all anyone could talk about during our cup run - about how there's no way we should be there

[senditcolton]

i'm sorry... why are the Oilers being compared to the 2019 Blues?

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: I used to be bored to death whenever I had nothing to do. Now, your frequent, unexpected visits irritate the hell out of me.

Lilia: Yes. You've never been satisfied with anything since. I recall you attempting to obliterate me from existence.

MC: I have a feeling we weren't as acquainted as you claimed.

Lilia: *chuckles* Oh, no. Trust me when I say we were. In fact, I'd been your wingman every time you tried to woo a lady.

MC: "Woo a lady"?

Lilia: My dear friend, yes. You were irresistibly appealing to both men and women.

MC: That is something I believe to be true.

Ace: Wow... Madame, you should teach me your ways.

Deuce: O-Oi...

MC: You're far too young for it.

Ace: Wha— I'm sixteen!

MC: If you were a plant, you'd be a seed that hasn't yet sprouted.

Ace: *pouts*

Lilia: *chuckles* It's strange to see you act like a parent. I'm curious if you'd be like this to Malleus as well.

MC: Now that you mention it, you informed me that he was my grandson. Is it because I know someone in his family?

Lilia: You had a close relationship with Her Majesty, The Queen. Despite the fact that you were eternal enemies.

Deuce: Pardon me, but I'm curious. If you and Ma— I mean Madame, were friends before. How old should she be now?

Ace: Hey, Deuce. It's quite rude to ask about a woman's age.

Deuce: Ah! I-I'm sorry! Forget I asked!

MC: Don't be. I was never bothered by my age to begin with.

Lilia: If you're truly curious, Deuce Spade, your Madame would be more than two thousand years old now.

Ace: *coughs* T-TWO THOUSAND?!!

Deuce: H-How many civilizations have been created during those times?!

Ace: Geez, Madame. You're old-old. You should be a fossil by now.

MC: ...

MC: *both whacks them by the head*

Ace and Deuce: Ow!

MC: I did say I was unconcerned about my age. But to openly insult me? Hm. What happened to your manners?

Ace and Deuce: S-Sorry...

Lilia: *laughs* Anyway, before I forget, what grade level would you be instructing?

MC: Sophomores and freshmen.

Lilia: Come on now, Ooky. Why would you pick them? Malleus is a third-year student. How will you socialize with him while teaching younger levels?

MC: You appear to be unaware. But Malleus and I have been talking since the ball ended.

Lilia: Oh?

Deuce: That's true. He often drops by here for a cup of coffee.

Ace: He even has a room here in Ramshackle.

MC: Though I'm a little bit concerned. He's quite a shy kid.

Lilia: Haha, yes. But he can confident sometimes. He just needs to get used to his environment.

MC: Hm.

Sebek: MADAME! PLEASE ALLOW US TO RENT A ROOM IN RAMSHACKLE DORM!

MC: No. I have a stable income now, so I wouldn't need anyone paying a rent.

Sebek: BUT WAKA-SAMA IS STAYING IN YOUR DORM! AND IT IS OUR DUTY TO ENSURE HIS SAFETY!

Silver: Sebek, could you please lower your voice while talking to Madame?

MC: Huh. It's no surprise that child appears lonely. You're overprotective of someone who doesn't require it.

Sebek and Silver: ...

Silver: Please do understand, Madame. Malleus is a prince—

MC: Ha... This conversation isn't going anywhere.

Sebek: But Madame!

MC: I must attend to other matters. And as for Malleus, I'm confident I'll be able to protect him in the event of a crisis.

Sebek and Silver: ...

MC: Keep your tickets with you at all times. You don't want to be without them. *has gone to a theme park and bought Malleus tickets for different kinds of rides*

Malleus: Madame, you've never struck me as someone who enjoys theme parks.

MC: I'm not. But, after you said you couldn't remember the last time you went to one, of course, I'd feel obligated in some way.

Malleus: Is it because I'm technically a grandson to you?

MC: Maybe.

Malleus: Should I start calling you "Grandma"?

MC: ...

MC: Do you see that ferris wheel over there?

Malleus: Yes. Why?

MC: I will hang you up there if you try to do so.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Yes... Nonna.

MC: ...

MC: That's much better. Let's go.

[rekofan101]

"Can you tell me about her?"

He rubs his hands together, fingers flexing and unflexing. Curling into a fist, scratching at his sweaty palms, spreading them out on his thighs and moving them forward to his knees. He looks up at the counselor, and offers an awkward smile.

"Well...what is there to say?"

She sighs, shifting in her seat. Her pen is in her hand, poised above the clipboard that's resting on her crossed legs. He doesn't really understand her question, as he feels there's not much else to say. She could get her information off tabloids and whatever the news has said lately. It's not like he knew her any better.

"Tell me about your relationship with her. You two fought often, right? Petty arguments, or was there always something bigger?"

He takes in a deep breath. Blows it out through his mouth. A hand rakes over his hair, brushing his bangs to the side. He looks at the counselor again, lips twitching up to smile but his eyes quickly shift down to the table. The fluorescent light buzzes softly, and the way it shines down on the white table almost blinds him. It dazzles him, and reminds him too much of the lights that would line their stage.

"It's...It's not like we hated each other. Arguing with your sibling, that's perfectly normal. We just...had a hard time agreeing on some things. We've both got a bit of a temper, I'm sure you know."

She writes something down on her clipboard, eyes darting up to give him a brief glance. She's got this look on her face, eyes half covered by her eyelids, mouth pulled into a thin line. He knows that look. Seen it too many times to not know it.

"There was once where we couldn't agree on the rhythm for one of our songs. You see, we collaborate on a lot of the music but she..."

He curls his right hand into a fist, gripping the fabric of his prison uniform. His heart clenches, and he thinks of that time in the studio.

"Those time signature changes start measure 14 and end at 38, then picks up again at 75 to 130."

"From 24/8 to 13/16 right? Are you sure?"

Her eyes glance up from the array of music sheets before her. They were staying up late, Sunday evening, going over the new songs they were going to play in studio tomorrow.

"I know what you're thinking, but just wait till you hear it! Trust the process," she says, laughing at herself.

"Oh believe me, I trust the process," he replies, grabbing the spare cups of water that had collected over their table as they worked. "Only you could come up with something like this and make it sound good."

"Well it's all going to depend on you, for the most part," she replied nonchalantly. He could hear the sounds of shuffling papers behind him as he washed their dishes.

"Ah, right. About that..."

He turns off the water, turning to face her. She looks up to him curiously, dark brown eyes shining thanks to their kitchen light. She didn't brush her hair today, because they spent the whole day inside pouring over the music for tomorrow. It stayed true to her nature, wild and unkempt, yet he knew it was soft to the touch.

"What is it?"

"Er, right...Yes, so..." He shifted his weight, bringing a hand up to brush aside his bangs. "I'm...unsure about those fills you want me to do in the intro and the during the breaks. With the time signature change during those measures...I'm not quite sure I can do it."

"Huh?" She replies, voice heavy with exhaustion. They've both been at this for hours, and he knows she's been giving it her all the whole time. He admits that what she has hear will be an amazing song, one to please the audience and anyone who hears it. But he wonders if she realizes that she's put in more faith in him than he has for himself.

"What are you talking about? Of course you can do it, this is just Heart Stab remixed, you got through that just fine!"

It is similar to that song, in fact this new one was sparked from a section of that song. Though she neglects to bring up the fact he had to practice for hours on end to get the sound right when they recorded that one.

"Ah, that is right," he replies, bringing his hands together. "Perhaps I'm underestimating myself, then."

She gets up from her seat, the folder with all their music secured in her hand.

"You always do, but I know you take this just as seriously as I do. So don't sweat it, kay? Now let's get some sleep, it's gonna be an even longer day tomorrow."

She reaches toward him for a hug, and he meets her halfway. As he holds her in his arms, he can't help but feel the guilt weighing in his heart. She's right about one thing. He does take this seriously, and he wants so desperately to meet her expectations. But he really is just not there. He doesn't have the natural talent she has. He can't just get things in the first few tries like she does. She has faith in him, but he knows that tomorrow is going to be hellish if he doesn't deliver.

They bid each other good night, then go off to their respective rooms. He lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, mentally preparing himself for tomorrow. She's going to be upset if he isn't able to keep up. And he'll get upset at himself for dragging her down.

But he's wrong. Because the fact is they both get angry for two very different reasons. He just doesn't know this. Neither does she. They both don't realize their own shortcomings. Maybe that's why it was always failed from the start.

"She's a prodigy. Always has been. Her passion for music goes far beyond what anyone else thinks. I've never seen someone with such greater talent and love for something than her. It's natural that she wants everyone to meet her at the level she's at. But I'm just not there. I don't think she realizes. I don't want to hold her back, I just want to be there to support her. That's all I've ever wanted."

He brings a hand up to his bangs, brushing them out of his face, but everything he sees is blurry for some reason. He feels something cool trail down his face. The counselor is busy staring at her clipboard, and for a moment, he's glad to have no one pay any attention to him. He's alone on stage. There's a gaping hole in his chest, one that he only has himself to blame.

"But now, I don't think we'll ever be brother and sister again."

-------

yeah idk lol

DAY 265:

[ohlovxr]

the one where layla first sees you (+ bonus: the one where the plan is made

masterlist | series masterlist

It’s Layla who notices you first.

She’s coming home from work at the early hour of three thirty, when you’re moving in.

A deal that fell through because of a rumoured raid had left her without work for the day. It’s rare, but watching you struggle with your boxes makes her feel like her circumstances are almost meant to be.

“Here.” Layla swoops down and relieves your aching arms of the heavy box. “You look like you could use some help. And a drink. Been at it all morning, yeah?”

You laugh breathlessly, “Yeah. My roommates - they’re at work.” You cross your arms over your chest, giving another breathy laugh. She can tell you’re feeling more insecure than imposed on. It takes you a minute and you only stare at her during it. “The… Thank you, um…”

“Layla.”

“Layla.” Your eyes flutter nervously. “That’s a pretty… pretty name. Layla. It’s Arabic, right? I mean it could not be, but it’s just that you look- I mean, like… you know what? Nevermind.”

You laugh nervously, eyes shifting away from her in embarrassment, and Layla tries so very hard to keep the amused smile just begging to break free off her face. “Don’t worry. It is. I am.”

“Right.” You swallow, nodding in what Layla could easily presume was self reassurance. “Right.”

Silence took up the space between you two for a moment before Layla broke it, slowly losing her battle with the amusement she felt trying to physically manifest onto her face. “And you’re…”

“Oh!” You perk up suddenly and give her your name.

It’s pretty. She thinks it’s fitting. She can imagine it rolling off her tongue over and over and over…

“Look.” Layla sets the box down by your door before meeting you at eye level again. “Why don’t you come to my place for a drink. My husband should be back soon enough, and we’ll help you with the rest.”

“Thank you. So much. You’re so nice but I can’t ask you both to do that. Besides,” you shrug as your mouth opens and closes, reaching for something to say, “It’s not even noon.”

“Fine, coffee then.” Layla challenges, a smirk gracing her face. “And Marc really won’t mind, trust me. He’s going to love getting to know our new next door neighbour as much as I am.”

You look at her with hesitation, gnawing at your lip anxiously, before a little smile finds its way onto your face. “I’d love to get to know you guys too.”

“Then it’s settled.” Layla boldly grasps your hand and begins to pull you towards her and her husband’s shared apartment. “Now, how do you like your coffee?”

You were everything she hoped for and more.

From your sense of humour and your laugh to your aspirations and the twinkle that sparks in your eyes when you talk about them; everything Layla had anticipated off first laying eyes on you a couple hours ago.

Your humility, empathy, and caring nature; everything you so pleasantly surprised her with.

Anyone else aside her husband would ask how she could possibly know the extent of those things about you. They’re characteristics that hold so much weight, so how could Layla have possibly figured out your heart was made up almost entirely of the three?

Greedily, she notes how your face flushes when she compliments your shoes on the way into her apartment and are oh-so-quick to offer the name of where you got them from. Even still, your eyes widen after you say it. “Only if that’s your style, duh! I don’t wanna push you to, ‘cause a compliment doesn’t always mean, uh, you know… anyways.”

Cockily, she notes how your eyes widen with curiosity and ears perk up as you listen to every word she speaks with the utmost of attention and care.

With awe, she notes how you rush to her side to grab the cups of coffee in her hands just as she’s walking over - how you manage to express empathy for the roommates that didn’t bother to schedule a single day off to move in and left you to it all while you were heading over to the couch.

Thrill fills her chest when she hears the door open.

“Hi, honey,” Layla leans over the couch as she calls out to him, speaking over his hummed Hey, baby, and looks over at you again to see your lip tucked anxiously between your teeth, “How was work?”

a few weeks later

“I don’t like those roommates of hers, Marc.”

Marc hums at his wife’s hushed remark, smoothing your hair down with his hand. There, you lay sleeping with your head in his lap, tears drying on your cheeks. Layla drapes your legs over her lap with care once she’s sat next to her husband on the couch.

A pause fills the air between them. The hand rubbing your shin pauses when Marc asks calmly, “Is it love or an obsession, Layla?”

She scoffs a laugh, “Be my guest, and tell me the difference.”

Marc sighs, and that forces her eyes to squeeze shut. “I love her.” Her eyes open to find his boring into her. “Everything about her, and because I love her, I want her.”

He looks away, only for Layla’s next words to pull him back. “I know you do too.”

Marc rolls his eyes, frustrated. His wife knew him well. “So, what?”

Whether it be the slightest shift in volume of his voice or the way his body rumbles when he speaks so urgently so suddenly, you shift in their laps as a soft whine escapes your lips.

They both pause and wait until they’re sure you’re still fast asleep in their arms.

“It would be so easy.” Layla urges. She points to their front door. “All she has are those- those idiots, Marc.”

She lets her hand drift down to your ankle. Marc watches as you’re held with possessiveness. A dangerous kind. “We could have her. Easily. Happily.”

Marc takes a moment, looking into his wife’s eyes to find nothing but a darkened look in them. It was one of the traits they shared. One of the things that made them so compatible. “We can’t make any mistakes if we don’t want any fighting.”

It starts with learning everything they can about you. Of course, anyone has to know the basics before moving onto the big thing. That, though, means Marc has to take on a delicate feat to collect all that they need.

What makes breaking into your shared apartment a sensitive matter isn’t the risk of someone catching him.

No, Layla specifically had you over for an impromptu movie night under the guise that came out as, “I know it’s sudden and weird to just ask you to hang out like this. We don’t actually know each other. But Marc’s at work and assuming those roommates of yours are too?” When your head nodded at that, his wife completed her part of the plan. “Why would we both sit in our apartments alone when we can relax and have some fun together?”

What made breaking into your apartment so difficult was making sure he left it exactly the way it was when he broke in. Marc’s not an idiot nor is he a slob, but three women living in close quarters in what looks to be a messy yet in its own way organized apartment? Him so much as putting back a hairbrush wrong could start a did you use my shit? kind of argument and risk you getting the slightest bit suspicious when accusations and denials get thrown around.

So, he’s careful. Does the two things he came for with care; take a couple notes and leave behind a small something to keep an eye on you.

He finds out that you really don’t have family near you. Your textbooks say you’re here for school and your uniform speaks to how you work at the restaurant he and Layla like to eat at every now and then.

You’re simple from this perspective. Cute and manageable. He’s only glad that he didn’t find-

“Great.”

He cuts off his own train of thought after opening your bedside drawer. Condoms and birth control pills.

Marc closes his eyes, frustrated, and takes a breath before reopening them. He doubles back to your dresser. He skips over all drawers except for the one dedicated to your pajamas. At first, he thought they were cute and just like you. You’ve got matching tank top and shorts sets in all sorts of colours and designs. Long, fluffy, and kind of ridiculous looking pajamas for when winter comes knocking, too.

Now, flipping through the drawer more carefully, he finds a couple shirts tucked away in there.

Marc could stand there, now holding the shirt out in front of him, in denial. He could assume you bought the oversized shirt for yourself because it’s comfy.

But he’s the one who told Layla that they couldn’t be stupid about this, and now he’s forced to face the fact that there’s got to be a body to bury before they get yours.

With their endgame in mind, Marc couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

[weissaddams]

Date With Death

Chapter 9

--

Their quiet smiles, unspoken words and cool hands were interrupted by the only people who could rival Wednesday’s love for Enid.

Her own family, much to Wednesday's chagrin, were let in by Yoko while she was talking to Enid. She did not want to let go of Enid’s hand just yet but Enid all but jumped up when she saw Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley and Thing make their way towards her. 

Morticia and Gomez open their arms to Enid who gladly jumped into them.

Wednesday had read that it was usual for a family to spend time with their daughter during the hours before the wedding. Knowing the werewolf’s family, Wednesday didn’t think it odd to see their welcome absence. Enid deserved a loving family who didn’t pick on every little thing she did and the Addams family would gladly fill that spot.

“Mi Loba! You look absolutely gorgeous!” Gomez held a hand over his heart as he softly squeezed Enid’s arm.

“Enid, my dear, you look magnificently dreadful!” Morticia cooed, nearly crying, as she delicately cupped Enid’s face and looked at her. How could anyone ever look at Enid and only see flaws? The only flaw here was Enid's choice of groom, but Wednesday made her promise to keep that to herself. 

Enid wanted to cry. These people, who have all but taken her in as their own, have managed to make her feel so, so loved with every word they utter. 

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Addams. I’m so glad you made it.”

Enid fights back the tears but the moment she loses that battle, Gomez is at her side, dabbing away the tears with a handkerchief before it does too much damage to her makeup. 

“Please, Enid, call me Tish. You can even call me mother if you would like.”

Wednesday doesn’t miss the knowing smile her mother shoots her as she continues to talk to Enid who was noticeably blushing even under her light makeup.

The raven blocks out the rest of the conversation as Pugsley beckons her to the terrace. She trusts her parents and Thing to take care of Enid or at least keep her in one piece. She watches them all giggle at one another before she starts to step back. Enid gives her a quick smile just before she turns, a quick signal that it was okay to leave her for a bit.

“Now that Pugsley has distracted Wednesday, I have to ask, dear, any cold feet? I’m sure Wednesday would be more than willing to drive for a runaway bride?”

Enid starts to giggle again because of course that’s the first thing they ask her. The apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. 

“Wednesday already offered earlier, but no cold feet.” 

“Ah, how unfortunate. It’s been a while since we’ve helped a runaway bride.”

Enid couldn't tell if they were joking. Not with the disappointed smiles they gave her. She laughed it off but genuinely wondered if helping runaway brides was also an Addams thing.

Morticia holds her hands in hers and squeezes lightly. The seer’s heart felt like it was about to burst. Was it because she was so happy for Enid? So torn for Wednesday? She could not tell.

“My dear Enid, please remember that no matter what, you will always be part of our family, understand?”

“And if you ever need a reminder, just look to your wrist.” Gomez added.

The bracelet Wednesday gave her feels cool on her wrist and in that moment, Enid felt more loved than she did in all the time she spent with her biological family.

--

Pugsley is dressed similarly to Wednesday, except he tended to hate the neckerchiefs. They made him too warm.

“So is she still getting married to Ajax?”

“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”

“I saw you holding hands when we walked in. Kinda hoped you changed your mind about telling her.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing, brother.”

“Can you blame me? How would I ever get back at you for all those pranks if the stupid curse gets you first?”

Wednesday sighs. They’ve talked about this. At length. Pugsley knows he’s fighting with a glass hammer but his stubbornness always seems to win out. When Wednesday made up her mind, no one could change it, so really, they were both stubborn.

“You will best me by outliving me, brother.”

“Feels like a cheap win.”

“A win is a win.”

“If you tell Enid, wouldn’t we all win?”

“I will not confess to Enid just because my life depends on her returning my affections. She deserves a freer, truer love.”

Pugsley knew he would never win an argument against his sister but understanding what was going to happen didn't make him feel any better about losing her. 

“Stupid curse.” He kicks at the air, nearly losing his balance in the process.

“By calling the curse stupid, you have also called our family stupid. Including me.”

“Well, you’re being real butt right now so yeah. You’re stupid, too. Because this curse has to be the worst kind of stupid if it can’t see how Enid looks at you.”

All Wednesday hears after “stupid” is more of Pugsley’s grumbling. He really should outgrow that. It was not fitting for an Addams to grumble.

Wednesday, in an act of love (because to hell with it, it’s her last day on earth anyway), puts a hand on her brother’s shoulder to console him. All her responsibilities would go to Pugsley the moment she crossed. While she has much confidence in his abilities, she would not blame him if he started to hate her when he realizes just how taxing it would be to lead the Addams family in its entirety. 

“I have accepted my fate, brother. Please remember what you swore to do when death graces my door.”

“I’ll look out for Enid. I promise.”

“You are a good brother, Pugsley. I am sure the curse will not seem as stupid once you fall in love.”

Pugsley chuckles darkly. He’d quip back if their parents weren’t calling for them to come back inside for a family picture with Enid.

Their parents had,  of course, already taken a photo with Enid. They just wanted the whole family this time.

Morticia made sure to place Wednesday and Enid together in the middle. It looked best with them there, after all, no other reason.

If her daughters were never given an opportunity to have a wedding of their own, she’d at least have this photo.

The photographer shows Morticia some of the photos when they disperse for the garden shoot. She spots one shot that clearly captures Enid fixing Wednesday’s lapels while the werewolf smiled and Wednesday looked at her.

Her heart breaks. This was the moment she saw in a vision years ago.

Her daughters’ happiest moment was captured in a photo.

--

Yes daughters (plural) because they’d thought of Enid as their daughter the moment Wednesday brought her home that first summer all those years ago.

Hi guys. I’ve been wanting to write so much but I got sick and my timing wouldn’t line up so yeah I’m crunching this out now. 

I’m not totally happy with it so I’ll probably pretty it up now and again.

I think I might try writing one of the Wenclair fic ideas I posted if I get too stumped to write about the next chapter for Date With Death.

I’m not abandoning it. Don’t worry.

Let me know what you think! Also, I suck at spelling so let me know where the mistakes are!

--

Date With Death master post

--

All the chapters are up there!

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 27 - Alternate universe

Tags/CW: time travel, multiple POV sorta, open ending

Working in the department that dealt with anything supernatural meant that sometimes the detectives were forced to work particularly tricky cases.

Detective Liam Hill, detective Mark Hales and their CO Alexandrine Carnahan, knew today was going to be particularly tough when they heard about three heroes that had disappeared during a fight with a crazed villain, only to re-appear only five seconds later, wearing different clothes, an array of injuries of various ages that hadn't been there before, and greeting others as if they hadn't seen them for months.

Their explanation? They spent nine months in an alternate timeline trying to find their way back home.

As much as it broke their hearts to see the three young heroes—who they couldn't help but to still view as children—so upset, they still decided to separate the three of them, so they could take their statements individually.

The three heroes in question were Phoenix, Magnetic Girl and March Hare. Captain Carnahan figured Magnetic Girl might be more comfortable talking to a woman, so she invited the girl into her office. Liam had a history with March Hare, so he sat him down in one of their interrogation rooms so they could talk privately, and Mark...well, Mark got along with anyone, so he sat down with Phoenix in their break room with a warm cup of tea.

"Just start at the beginning," he said gently, "tell me what happened."

"I....i-it started normal," Phoenix quietly said, warming his hands on the cup, "or well...as normal as it gets considering we found ourselves in the future all of a sudden. W-we decided to lie low and find Dad— I-I mean, Dr Slade. He sent us to Los Angeles, they invented a time machine, and we went back...b-but everything was horribly, horribly wrong..."

Meanwhile Liam stepped into the interrogation room after grabbing himself a strong coffee, and some hot chocolate for March, only to be greeted with an unexpected hug as he walked in.

"What are you doing, kid?" he asked, trying to ignore the pain of the hot liquid running over his hands after spilling a bit.

"I-I watched you die..."

"...now I've heard everything," Liam said with a sigh, "okay, sit down, tell me what happened."

They sat down at the table, March wiping some tears off of his face, before recounting the same events as Phoenix; They found themselves in the future, they went to Slade for help, and when they returned they found themselves in the wrong timeline.

"The streets were empty, even the weather looked miserable," March said, "but when we ran into dog-catchers... That's when we knew things were beyond fucked up."

"...dog-catchers as in animal control, or dog-catchers as in super-hunting douchebags?" Liam asked.

"The latter," March said, "they tried to grab us, but then uh....Sandra saved us."

"The receptionist from the clinic?"

"Do you know any other Sandras?"

"Apparently you do," Liam said with a shrug.

"And then some," March said, "she had a shotgun and she knew how to use it...and she didn't trust us, so she took us captive and we were interrogated for hours because she didn't believe our story, until we showed her the memory card Tyler gave us — It had the plans for the time machine, he wanted us to bring it to the past so he could work on it sooner and have it locked and loaded in case our situation ever happened again...She decided that a time machine could change the tide of their war....stop it from ever happening in the first place."

"War? What war?" Captain Carnahan frowned confused, looking down at her notes while Magnetic Girl nodded.

"I-it was terrible," she said quietly, "so hopeless they were willing to bet everything on us and getting the plans for the time machine to Tyler...which meant getting us out of the country."

"Was I there?" Captain Carnahan asked, unable to contain her curiosity, "please tell me I was on the winning side."

"I met...uh...the other you briefly," Magnetic Girl said, "I...I'm not sure if you made it. You were with March and his group was attacked. He...he nearly didn't make it, and he didn't want to tell us what happened."

"Damn, that doesn't promise much good," Captain Carnahan said, "but, we're getting off-track. How did it even end up like that in the first place?"

"Apparently the signs had been around for a while," Phoenix said, after Mark asked him a similar question, "supers disappearing randomly, experimented on in secret facilities funded by our own government... Exactly the kind of things we've seen happening here..."

"And now you're worried the same thing will happen here?" Mark asked.

"I-I don't know," Phoenix said, "b-but it doesn't seem so far-fetched now."

"I see," Mark said, "just a few more questions and then we'll call your family to come pick you up, okay?"

Phoenix nodded, taking a sip of tea.

"Okay." Mark said, "So...how long did you say you were stuck in the wrong timeline?"

"T-three months," Phoenix said, "and before that six months in the future."

"So...it took Tyler six months to invent a time machine?" Mark asked.

He couldn't help but to be impressed, he knew a little bit about the complexity of the subject, which may or may not have to do with his favourite sci-fi movies, and today's scientists all agreed that even theoretically time travel was about as impossible as it gets...yet Tyler figured it out in six. Months.

"They scanned us for....particles or something," Phoenix said, "they had all kinds of equipment that we couldn't even begin to understand. They didn't explain it either, we didn't belong there and they were determined to send us home."

"That makes sense," Mark said with a nod.

"I think we could've been back sooner," Magnetic Girl said, now also discussing the time frame with Captain Carnahan, "but March had the memory card with the plans, and he never made it across the border, so we had to go back and rescue him."

"So that's why it took three months to get back to the right timeline?" Captain Carnahan asked.

"Y-yeah," Faline said, "besides having to figure out the math and building the actual machine, we also needed some time to recover. They didn't want to send us back until we could travel safely...just in case."

"Thankfully some things remain the same throughout different timelines then," Captain Carnahan said, "and this memory card that brought you guys home...?"

March quietly placed the plastic case in which he'd been carrying the memory card on the table after Liam asked a similar question.

"The...improved blueprints for a working time machine," he said, "Tyler said they were encrypted in a way that only he could figure out, so that they won't fall into the wrong hands."

"Smart man," Liam said, "you gonna give it to him?"

March looked down at the case, not quite sure what to answer...

@ailesswhumptober

Mark, Phoenix, and Sandra (mentioned) belong to @dr-abitat-blog

Masterlist

Main account

I wish I could go into more detail about this alternate timeline because by GOD it was glorious, but it was never actually written so all the details are fuzzy...

[kazuyummy]

‎

🥂 golden rule - king's cup hq drabbles | pt. 1

in which someone in the group draws a jack from the card circle and gets to make a rule that must be followed until the next jack is drawn. pairing with reader is random in each drabble, and some might not have one at all.

pt. 1 (here!) - karasuno third years & shiratorizawa

pt. 2 (coming soon!) - karasuno first years & inarizaki

pt. 3 (coming soon!) - aoba johsai & nekoma / fukurodani

🥂 karasuno third years

"you have to refer to everyone by one of their parents' names. otherwise, drink."

the group giggles at kiyoko's rule, and she continues, "and we should do given names, not family names."

"alright, ayane," you wink at her, "it's not too soon to be calling you by tanaka's mom's name, is it?"

she blushes as you and the boys tease her-- even the shy azumane is joining in on it.

"hey mineo," kiyoko teases asahi with the name of noya's grandfather, "don't think i'm the only one who can be teased with a soon-to-be-fiancé's name!"

his face goes red as well, but the group of you knows it's all in good fun. tanaka, noya, nor any of your other former kouhai could make it out to the cottage this year due to various commitments-- school, work, or of course, volleyball-- but it left you with a nostalgic group of the graduates in your year. michimiya wasn't able to come with daichi either, which meant no couples were on the trip.

well... unless you counted your drunken little rendezvous with sugawara last night after both of you finally admitted feelings that had been pent up since high school. but you'd like to think the two of you had done a pretty good job acting normal today. though drunk, you resisted giving each other visible hickeys, even with swimsuits on-- and it didn't seem like anyone suspected a thing.

"hey koushi," daichi calls, and you instantly point a finger at him.

"hah! dai-- fumi, you gotta drink!"

"hey! you can call me by my dad's name, y'know?" when he doesn't pick up his drink, you push the can toward him.

"huh? i wasn't calling him," he gestures over to the very owner of the name, then at you, "i was talking to you."

your nose wrinkles, "huh? my dad doesn't have the same name as him."

"see, that's funny," daichi begins, and as soon as you meet the glint in his eyes, you know how this is going to end, "i thought so, but i thought i heard you calling him daddy last night?"‎

🥂 shiratorizawa

"no touching your phone during the game. otherwise, i get to send one message to any of your contacts."

you roll your eyes at the ever-mischievous tendou-- even if he doesn't have something planned, you know he can come up with the absolutely most embarrassing texts to send on the fly.

"c'mon, phones on the table. i don't trust any of you to use the honour system. except ushiwaka, of course. and to a bit of a fault." wakatoshi shrugs, and takes another sip of his beer.

"as if you're any more trustworthy, tendou!" you grumble, but fish out your phone and place it in the pile.

"no, i see how it is. he wants it to be more tempting if someone's screen lights up," reon muses-- quite perceptive of him. immediately, phones are going off, and people are leaning over to look at the messages people are getting.

"aaaand i think we got our first booty call," semi snickers, his hand reaching across the table to your phone. you see the contact picture even before the message, and your brain goes into a panic-- you swipe the phone.

"not even thirty seconds in, and we have our first victim!" tendou cackles, near-ecstatic. he opens his palm to you, but you're gripping the phone to your chest as if you're protecting it with your life.

"but-- but semi touched it first!"

"i said no touching your phone though, didn't i? nothing about anyone else's phone!"

before you can protest further, semi grabs the phone out of your hands and gives it to tendou. he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you to his chest because after seeing that message, he knows you're going to do everything in your power to get that phone back.

"so the rumours are true, huh? you're talking to oikawa!"

goshiki gasps dramatically, to which you huff,

"see, this is why i didn't tell you guys! i knew you'd get all weird and protective about it! we're not even dating yet."

"yet?" semi narrows his eyes, and you regret your choice of words.

"oh, come on! text my mom or something, idiot. i get shit from him already for even being close with you guys after high school."

"well then i'm about to give him some shit. one message, two words. i promise."

you stop struggling against semi momentarily-- that doesn't sound too bad, "two words? huh. a nice little "fuck you" or something?"

"yeah, something like that," tendou raises the phone, snapping a picture of the unsuspecting ace beside him. worse than the group seeing the suggestive thirst trap your situationship has sent is the image your redhead friend has returned with two words that you groan at, since they're going to get you into so much shit,

"she's busy."

[chickensarentcheap]

@youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @tragiclyhip @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @ninjasawakenedmystar @mrsmungus @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq

“Mister Rake.” The older man’s smile is disingenuous. Smug. And Tyler wishes he could wipe it clear off his face. There’s no love lost between them; Winston always less than welcoming during the handful of visits Tyler had paid to the hotel in the past. He’s far below them on the food chain in the manager’s opinion; the Australian with the scruffy beard and the various tattoos and scars that decorated his body. A little too ‘rough around the edges’; viewed as uncivilized and ‘untrainable’ due to his ‘messy’ appearance and his ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude. And, according to Winston’s own words, nothing more than a painful and embarrassing blight on the establishment.

“Winston.”

“I’ve been expecting you.”

“Wish I could say the same. Long time no see.”

“It has been.” The older man opens the door wider, stepping aside as he motions for Tyler to enter the suite. “And to be quite frank, I could have gone the rest of my days never laying eyes on you again.”

“I know you really don’t mean that. I know you missed me. I brought some color to this place. Some life.”

“Join me, will you?” Winston gestures towards the patio; a waiter in a sleek black suit, crisp white shirt and matching gloves busily setting a table. Laying out carafes of hot and cold drinks and platters of various breakfast foods.

“As much as I’d love to, I’ve got plans. That don’t include your particular brand of bullshit.”

“Perhaps just a coffee then. While our Esme…”

“Our Esme? When did it become OUR? Because I don’t share. Not with you. Not with ANYONE.”

“...finishes getting herself and the little one ready for the day. I’m asking nicely, Mister Rake. Extending a level of politeness and civility that you probably aren’t used to. Nor do you rightfully deserve. I’m well aware I’m not your favourite person and believe me, the feeling is quite mutual. I insist you join me. If you know what’s best for you.”

Tyler is far from stupid; he’s dealt with the likes of Winston -and much worse- on many occasions. And he knows it truly is in his best interest to accommodate the man’s demands. If he was alone, he wouldn’t think twice about turning his back and walking away. Or about putting his fist through the other man’s face. But the latter would no doubt result in him leaving The Continental body bag; no one surviving the swift punishment that is handed down when breaking The High Table’s sacred ‘covenants’. And there’s just way too much at stake; people depending on him to make sure they make a clean escape from not only the hotel’s grounds, but also the city and country. Paying job aside, Esme and Millie need him; both putting forth a level of trust and expectation that he can’t fail. So despite his anger and disgust, he doesn’t resist and instead steps out onto the patio; reaching for the sunglasses that dangle from the neck of his shirt and slipping them onto his face.

He drops heavily into one of the chairs. Requesting coffee from the waiter and then nodding thanks when his cup is filled to the brim.

“What the hell do you want, Winston? Because I’m not quite sure I possess the level of patience you require.”

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he slips into a seat across from Tyler. “You knew this moment was coming. From the second you stepped through the front doors. You knew I wanted to meet with you; I specifically asked Charon to pass the message along. I made it very clear we needed to talk. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Talk. Whether you’re comfortable with it or not. And as for what you ‘brought’ to The Continental? You brought nothing but violence and chaos.”

“Isn’t that what this life is all about? What you harbour here? Enable? Violence and mayhem? Let’s cut the shit; you’re not exactly putting up people who are pillars of their communities. Our packaging might be different, but the contents are the same. We’re all monsters in some way.”

“Our breeds of monsters are two entirely different things. In two completely different leagues. But it’s to be expected, I suppose. Given your type.”

“My type? What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve got something against Australians?”

“I’ve got something against those that refuse to toe the line. That run in circles we don’t approve of.”

[thelemoncoffee]

HEARD LOUD AND CLEAR!

actual spoilers are def gonna be mentioned during this tyraid so if you don't want raincode spoilers, beware

okay so for reference; i've been in and out of theater tech work for my whole life, volunteering at my local theaters as set crew and being the lead sound tech for my school theaters and assistant sound tech at a church i use to attend. i was raised in the theater and my ma majored in theater tech and worked as a stage manager for several years before i was born. safe to say we know a good bit of our stuff.

having said that raincode's chapter two makes me want to foam at the mouth. hold your ass cheeks, this is gonna be long and you're gonna learn some theater tech terminology along the way

starting with those things i mentioned in my little yell up there- i wanna elaborate on those and why they're bad. starting with the cans. if you don't know theater tech you probably don't know what a can or follow spot is- they're types of lights, follow spot is the technical term for a spotlight and cans are the hanging lights.

Follow Spots are huge and heavy things, but they're designed for someone to move the light itself around freely to- as the name implies- follow an actor around the stage, older ones are pretty loud because they have fans in them that keep them cool enough to touch while still giving out a powerful light, and usually they're positioned in the back of the house at an elevation because they're too powerful to have up in the fly or on the catwalk. these are the only type of light- to my knowledge- that can be freely moved during a show. Cans are stationary, they are hanging on fly bars (the bars up above the stage that backdrops and curtains are hung on) in groups and are adjusted for the position they are to be in for the show weeks in advanced during light checks. these fuckers are also hot to the touch after being on for any amount of time, and do not have any handles on them because- yk- they aren't meant to be touched after being set up. and unless they're a really special type they don't have any switches on them to manually turn them on, and rather the light tech in the booth will control all the lights from their console

now- Raincode claims Kurane and that other lights girl were up in the catwalk for the whole show and during the cups scene moved the cans and turned them on. there are no follow spots up on that catwalk, they depicted them moving cans. not only is that not possible and they'd burn their hands trying, but the lights were visibly on fly bars with other lights, and moving one light would cause the bar to sway and the other lights on the bar would seem to be moving strangely from the audience's perspective. Kurane's segment of the kill cannot function because lights tech don't fucking work like that.

the second thing i mentioned in that capslock rant was the fact they claimed Kurane was even on lights because she was an actor who didn't get a lead role. i shit you not they open her introduction with saying and i quote "Kurane, the one in the wings wearing a wind breaker, manages the lights since she wasn't chosen for a lead role" then proceeds to talk about how she's one of the most distinct actors they have and how she always shoots for the lead role in shows.

you might be wondering "Kai, what's wrong with that?"- well my dear- EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH THAT. when in theater it's actually very hard to find actors who can be trusted to do the more complicated tech work, in fact my mom has only met two who could in her life. it's on thing if you're in a community theater or a low budget highschool where anyone pitching in is good, but even in those scenes when actors help it's usually just with carrying things or building basic boxes and not managing whole crews. if you're in something more high end and professional there is little to no overlap with actors and techies, and with the way the school in raincode is hyped up as basically professional i cannot imagine they'd have an actor doing tech work, let alone managing lights.

lights and sound are- in my personal opinion- in the top four hardest tech crews (the other two being costuming and stage management). they take alot of time and dedication to do well, and if you are an actor- especially a dedicated one like Kurane is claimed to be- you ain't gonna know fuck shit about lights and sound. the wording also made it sound like she just kinda got stuck as the lights manager because she didn't get a lead role, as if tech is some fucking spare place to dump actors who weren't good enough for the show. "bad actors get put in lights gulag"- NO! that is such a fucking insult to techies everywhere, this shit ain't easy, you can't just chuck an actor into crew ans expect them to function at all! i fully believe honestly that an actor would try to fucking move a can like it's a follow spot- don't mean it's work tho

now the blackouts thing. blackouts are very important to shows because that's when scene changes happen. during a blackout crew will move around set pieces, take them on and off set, change backdrops, and a whole host of other things. the first thing they got wrong was all the blackouts being the same length of time in the show- the idea of every blackout being timed at five seconds is stupid because that's not enough time for full scene changes, there are blackouts that indicated time passing in the play where they can be that short but most blackouts are going to vary drastically in time frames and usually be longer than that.

the idea of you not being able to hear footsteps in a blackout is what really gets my goat on that one tho, because as i said it's the time frame where crew is moving set pieces and props around on stage, you're not only going to hear footsteps, you're going to hear multiple sets of them and the sounds of things being set down or rolled around. unless the sound team has some transition music they use to mask the sound from the audience (which many do) you'll hear quite a bit of hushed skittering during a blackout- crew tries to be quite as possible but moving around inherently makes noise unless you've somehow managed to take the term "stage ninja" and made it literal.

this gets worse tho- because this game fucking tells us that crew couldn't have changed the glass out during the blackout because they would have made noise running (which as i just showed is something you'd expect in a blackout actually), then they have an ACTOR in a FLOOR LENGTH DRESS and i can only assume DRESS SHOES move from CENTER STAGE to FAR DOWN STAGE LEFT to GET THE CUP and put it IN HER DRESS then GO BACK TO CENTER STAGE. AS IF THAT WOULDN'T BE HARDER TO DO AND MAKE EVEN MORE NOISE. (for those unfamiliar with stage directions, stage left and right are what's left and right for the actors, upstage is the back of the stage, and downstage is the front of the stage. they're called up and down because the stages from the middle ages were slanted towards the audience so everything could be seen. modern day it's the audience who are slanted)

but on top of that!! you can see the scene play out right? the scene starts with Karen's character trying to start a sword duel with Waruna's, Waruna's character refuses and they both drop their swords and hug at center stage, during this there is no other props on stage and the slight overhead angle we're given shows us even the cabinet the wine tray is suppose to be on isn't even on stage yet. the blackout occurs while they hug- supposedly Waruna gets out of the hug and goes all the way to the far corner of downstage left to shove a glass in her dress and comes back to center stage before the lights come back on to hold hands with Karen. WHEN THE LIGHTS COME BACK ON there is a fucking table behind them that was not there before, and while the camera doesn't follow her so we don't see it, Waruna fetches plates from the cabinet the wine tray is on so that got moved onto the stage too- meaning crew WAS MOVING AROUND AND SET A WHOLE TABLE DOWN AT UPSTAGE CENTER AND MOVED A CABINET TO UPSTAGE LEFT IN THAT FIVE SECOND BLACKOUT. we don't see the stage floor directly but if you look behind the text box you can see the floor and the swords are gone, i'm willing to bet crew picked the swords up too.

how pray tell, could crew have done all that, but couldn't have switched out a glass that was very close to the wings?? and why could Waruna do it when she's busy acting, and also is probably kinda very much blinded by the lights?

no actually that's my next gripe because there are so many more outside of the three i mentioned originally. when you're in the audience or on the stage, you're exposed to ALOT of light, those things are powerful and blinding. the actors usually get it worse but they also usually have practiced a crap ton to move around to their next blocking or to run into the wings. the crew however don't have this weakness, as we're in darkness all the time so our eyes have to adjust way less and we can get shmovin quicker. so tell me, why would someone putting a glass on the stage corner from the audience and a actor running off script to get said glass be more believable than say, a single stage hand switching the glasses out when they get moved onto the set? two blinded people do not a seeing person make. they say they probably practiced this as much as they did the play itself but they'd have to be practicing this in front of everyone, and god knows the rest of the cast and crew would want to know what this blocking is for

and speaking of crew capabilities and set piece locations, that cabinet is actually really close to the stage left wing. lets say it was already onstage even tho we know it wasn't. why couldn't a crew member during the blackout just reach out and swap the glasses? i actually tried this myself with a setup in my house where i placed a real wine glass on a table then paced myself back into where the leg (legs are the narrow curtains that hide the wings from the audience's view) closest to it would be in relation while sufficiently hiding myself from the audience (using Yuma for scale) and i was able to swap it out with one i had in my hand in four seconds.

another issue with the glass swap is when Waruna actually swapped the glasses out was when she went to get the plates yeah? never mind that the dress is floor length and she'd be very obvious trying to pull the wine glass from under it with the lights on, they fucking claim cause her back is turned the audience can't see her do it. one: two thirds of the audience might not be able to see her do it because the set piece is at an angle, but the whole of house right (house is the area where the audience sits, direction labels here are based on their perceived right and left. ie: stage left is house right) could see her just fine, and two: SO COULD THE ENTIRETY OF THE CREW IN THE LEFT WING!! BECAUSE SHE IS ACTIVELY FACING THEM!!!! NO ONE IN CREW SAW HER PULL A GLASS FROM HER DRESS AND SWITCH THE PROP OUT??

also i just realized this just now as typing this, but they said during the labyrinth Waruna went close to the cabinet but never touched it?? but if that was the case how did she get the glass up there like they claimed she did? how did she get the prop plates from the cabinet that she was actually scripted to do???

and shout out to you dear Ashe the costume designer. the dresses as i've mentioned are not operational for this stunt but let's actually dig into that more in depth. we have Waruna in this floor length dress and supposedly put a whole ass wine glass under it, then pulled it back out again to put it on the wine tray and put the one that was up there under her dress where it stayed for the rest of the show. we've established that trying to put something under a floor length dress like that is awkward and ridiculous, but ignoring that in order for that to work her dress would need some sorts of pocket or loop on the inside of the dress to put the glass in to keep it from falling out, but that would create tension on the front of the dress yeah? and why would there even be something there in the first place, what did they have to bribe the costume designer with to put something like that in the dress and not yap? they also make a thing about them checking the actors thoroughly before the run once they get the costumes on, then again if they run to the restroom before the show. i get a serious once-over the first time it gets put on, but you're not doing a full pat-down, and at best when coming from the rest room you'd just get a quick turn around to make sure your costume is laying right and if you have a mic that it's wires aren't sticking out. the idea of them being certain Waruna had nothing on her because they checked the costume is so ?????????

anwywho literally the whole stunt they pull cannot be done the way they said it went because that's not how theater works, and all the stuff they brushed off as impossible about other crew members committing the crime actually is not only possible but leagues more sound than what we're told is the truth. but even then there's still more theater blasphemy going on in this case!

some random bullshits they do include: the stage crew is wearing red backstage and not black (i don't care if this is just a dress rehearsal, if the actors are dressed crew should be to, especially if it's the final rehearsal), they call Yoshiko a production assistant despite her behavior and actions reading more stage manger (stage managers are far more hands on with the crew and how the show actually operates, while a production manager is more of a director's assistant and doesn't have any strong control over any aspect of the show), there is no props table backstage for some reason which is where you'd actually find those glasses and not on the cabinet which they could fall off of and break when it's moved, they claim Kurumi poured the wine bottle out and replaced it with grape juice the day of the final rehearsal as if they wouldn't already have an empty wine bottle in storage and be using that for every rehearsal before this one, the only blackout we see is seen as weird by Yuma and it kinda is because it's so awkwardly placed and doesn't make sense for the flow of the show- but he acts like lights going out at all in a show is weird, and for some fucking reason they have Yoshiko hanging out in the front row right corner of the house instead of in position with a headset communicating with crew, finally where's the teacher in charge here- this is a school there's no way a teacher isn't the director where is she???

i think i could go on for hours about the bastardization of theater this chapter is but i think this is the most i can do without getting too nitpicky. thanks for letting me rant

i think it'd be funny if Shuichi liked writing and his motivation for writing sometimes was just a book that pissed him off.

like he's reading a thriller mystery or something and the murder that happens is so convoluted and nonsensical he can't help but want to try and rewrite it to fix it.

this was brought to you by me and my ma did this to raincode chapter 0 the other day and it was fun

[mc-lukanette]

*crawls over completely exhausted* No Canon Lukanette... Need fluff... maybe salt too...

Luka gave Marinette's parents a smile as he waited for Marinette to come downstairs, though to say he was concerned was an understatement. He and Marinette hadn't been dating for long, but he knew something was wrong due to her song singing even more stress-filled notes than usual. He wanted to talk to her about it, but also wanted her to open up to him herself when she was ready.

Wanting to focus on smiling for her when she came down, Luka shook off the thought and stared up at Marinette's trap door. Seeing that she hadn't come down yet - understandable given that she had no idea he was there - he pulled out his phone and navigated to her contact. However, just before he could tap on it, there was an abrupt, loud, and unusual noise coming from Marinette's room, followed by the sound of Marinette yelping and presumably hitting the floor.

Luka gasped. “Marinette!”

Not even thinking, he hurried upstairs, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he pushed the trap door up and let himself in.

Over a dozen tiny kwami were speeding around her room, each with distinct voices and one of whom he recognized as Sass. He'd initially thought that the Liberty was chaos, and it was, but there was something different about fifteen little melodies all moving around simultaneously and wreaking havoc. They hadn't even seemed to notice that he was there.

There was also a ladybug-patterned ellipsoid lying on the table in the middle of it all, though Luka's eyes fixated mostly on Marinette lying there on the floor, now staring at him with wide eyes as he took in the whole situation.

"L-luka!" she greeted, voice forced. "W-what a surprise! I mean, you must be surprised at my toy collection! See, there's—there’s this magnetism thing going on that lets them seem like they're flying and—"

She was cut off as one of the kwami accidentally dropped something to the floor, making her flinch from the loud noise. Even the sound all around the room was overwhelming, the little beings ignoring Marinette’s panic in favor of playing with her things.

That's when the tears started, subtly at first until Marinette let out a whimper.

Ignoring all the revelations he just went through, Luka hurried to Marinette's side, helping her up and checking her for injuries. "Marinette, are you okay—"

"You know!" she cut in, running her fingers anxiously through her hair. "You're not supposed to know!"

He took a breath, recognizing that he was going to have to deal with these revelations now. "It's okay. I promise, I'd never—"

"No, it's not okay!" she argued, throwing her hands out. "I've been guardian for just a few days and this—this isn't—! I already—and now the kwami are out—!" She slumped and dropped her gaze to the floor, ashamed. "I'm a bad guardian. I'm a bad girlfriend. I couldn't protect you from knowing!"

"Marinette, you're not a bad girlfriend. You—" He paused, something occurring to him. "Protect me...?"

He hadn't been Viperion for long, but Luka remembered the importance given to secret identities. He understood that it was a form of protecting oneself and one's loved ones, meaning that a permanent hero like Ladybug needed to keep hers a secret the most.

"Is..." His stomach twisted in knots as he remembered all the dates she'd had to either miss or postpone. He bent down, trying to look at her face, and when he still couldn't, he gently cupped her face and encouraged her to make eye contact with him. "Is that why—"

"Yes! That's why I have to keep cutting our dates short, and not being there for you, and not going on patrols with Chat, and why I haven't had time to take those stupid Adrien pictures down! I can't do anything right!"

At some point, the volume of her voice had finally drawn the attention of the kwami, who all stared at her like children watching their parent having a breakdown and feeling awkward about it. Luka paid them no mind, his heart breaking as he processed all the information Marinette was telling him while all he could do was pull her into a hug and just hold her.

"I'm sorry I found out like this," he admitted, running his hand up and down along her back. "I'm glad that I know but I would've wanted you to share that secret with me instead."

"I-I'm sor—"

"Please don't apologize, Marinette," he gently begged. "I hate hearing songs with meanings I don't agree with. You don't have anything to feel sorry for. If I had the ladybug earrings instead, I would've had to do the same thing as you, and you wouldn't have asked me to apologize, would you?"

She looked up at him, expression pained and full of so many burdens that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen before. He brushed her fringe aside and rested his palm against her forehead, concerned about how pale she seemed and worried that she'd stress herself to a cold.

She leaned into his touch, then further until he was forced to move his hand away. She buried her face in his chest, surprising him as she hugged him tightly. Her song turned from the harsh wail of an electric guitar to the mellow tones of an acoustic, and he sighed in a mixture of relief and happiness.

"...Luka," she murmured, lightly clutching whatever fabric she could reach. "The movie. We'll miss it at this rate."

He hummed, half in response to what she said and half in content. "You're so much more important than the movie."

His heart skipped a beat when she actually giggled, her grip on him loosening and the hug turning to something she did because she wanted to, not for comfort. "More important than Jagged Stone?"

He chuckled, burying his face into her hair as he returned the hug. "Always. Even my idol can't compete with my muse."

She leaned further into him, her melody picking up hints off a bell chiming happily. She almost knocked him over from how much of her weight she was putting on him, but he didn't protest and even enjoyed it; it meant she was trusting him with her secrets instead of shouldering the weight herself.

"I know I couldn't have known," he began, "but I'm sorry that our dates took up your time. I never wanted to cause you any stress."

"But I wanted to!" she insisted, jolting up to look at him. "It's just—it's been a lot, and—"

He placed two fingers against her lips before she could start rambling. "Marinette, I don't need to go on normal dates to have fun with you."

She blinked, waiting for him to move his fingers before asking, "Y-you don't?"

He smiled. "Of course not. I can hang out here while you work, while you do important stuff."

With a small, amused snort, she pulled away from him and wiped any stray tears away. "You're 'important stuff.'"

He grinned like the love-struck fool that he was, then shrugged. "Well, I'll still be here anyway then, right?"

"That's true." She paused, glancing off to the side in consideration, then looked back at him as she asked, "in that case... would you help me with something?"

"Anything," he answered immediately.

She pointed, his gaze drawn to her wall full of Adrien pictures. "Like I said, I haven't had the time, and... I've been wanting to remodel forever."

He was more than happy to help, and there was a selfish part of him that considered it far better than any movie they could've seen.

—————

It took a bit more time than either of them anticipated to take down all of the images, but between the two of them, it wasn't a hard job. The biggest time-waster during the whole thing was Marinette's rambling, but Luka welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Due to not watching much TV, he honestly hadn't heard about what'd happened when Jagged Stone had been at the bakery and the camera crew had invaded Marinette's privacy, and he couldn't believe how much mental stress she must've gone through. After all, even though he and Juleka shared a room, there was still a divider for when they needed their privacy, so he wasn't unaware about how personal it was to have one's room recorded without their consent, even if nothing embarrassing got caught on camera.

It seemed cruel to know that Paris' supposedly lucky superhero was perhaps one of the unluckiest people he'd ever known.

Almost on cue, just when the last picture was down and Marinette was debating on what to do with them, her phone went off with a ringtone that sounded very much like danger. Looking over, there was a butterfly symbol flashing on the screen and Marinette's expression faltered at the sight of it.

"Akuma alert," she said flatly, with a pout that would've been cute had he not known what it meant. She hesitated, eyes flicking from him to her phone. "Um... look, I... I have to—"

"Go," he interrupted with a reassuring smile. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'll be here when you're done."

"But—" She frowned and glared at her phone, clearly knowing that she had to leave but not wanting to.

"I mean it, Marinette. It's okay."

She looked at him like she'd never heard those words from anyone else before, eyes vulnerable but fond. She gave him a nod, a brief smile flickering across her face before she turned away and rushed to the stairs. She shouted for her transformation on the way out and Luka watched as her clothes shifted into her ladybug-patterned bodysuit.

When she was completely gone, Luka felt a sudden unsteadiness and leaned against the table for support. It wasn't that he was shocked exactly to hear that Marinette was Ladybug, but he was still overloaded nonetheless.

As his hand rested on the table, he felt the heel of his palm brush something and looked down to see the pile of Adrien pictures next to him. It sent another rush through his body at the reminder that she'd asked him to help her take them down. He was dating her, sure, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that there were no lingering feelings for Adrien. He knew where she stood and he was okay letting her test the waters with him, as she did have feelings for him and who was he to complain if his crush wanted to date him? Besides, he couldn't help wanting to see if maybe it would truly make their bond stronger.

Looking at the wall now, clear of anything but the pink paint, he knew this was real and ended up wishing he'd brought his guitar.

Then, remembering the akuma alert on Marinette's phone, Luka pulled out his own and began to search, eventually finding what she already had: a direct link to watch streams and updates on whatever akuma or sentimonster shenanigans were going on. He knew well enough that he would only give himself anxiety from it, but he wanted to watch his girlfriend in action as a form of support.

Gosh, Ladybug was his girlfriend.

He took a deep breath to steady himself as he watched the footage, his eyes locked to the screen and only shifting when he felt various figures drawing close. He looked up to see that the kwami had all gathered around him, watching the screen closely.

"So..." the pig-looking kwami began, fiddling with their own paws like they knew they were being awkward. "Have you ever wanted to be a hero?"

There was a hiss off to the side, Sass cutting in with, "He already has me."

Luka wasn't feeling up to smile at that, debating with himself before sighing. "Marinette works really hard, and her song is full of sour notes right now," he said. Stepping away and heading for the chaise lounge, he sat down and added, "I hope you can figure out how to rewrite them."

The kwami all exchanged looks, some confused by the metaphor and others who perhaps understood but didn't know how to follow up on it. Luka didn't give them his attention, focusing on the akuma battle playing on his phone.

As he'd expected, it made him a little nervous actually seeing Ladybug in action due to now knowing it was his girlfriend fighting out there. He believed in her abilities and mentally cheered her on, but he just kept remembering all the akuma he'd known about and how stressful it had to have been.

Off to the side, some of the kwami joined forces to help pick up some of the items they'd previously dropped on the floor. It was only after Marinette's room looked as it did before that they properly joined Luka to watch the battle with him.

It was a start.

—————

The battle between Ladybug and the akuma (and Chat Noir was there he supposed) seemed to be getting into its final verse when Luka heard the sound of the trap door being grabbed and clicked open, making him jump. He was only able to whisper a, "Hide," so the kwami could act before Sabine peered inside the room and took a curious look around.

Apparently, they all thought that huddling against his back was a great hiding spot, and he could only smile sheepishly at Sabine while attempting to ignore the weird feeling.

"You're still here?" Sabine asked. "I thought you were going somewhere, and..." She raised a brow, looking around once more. "Where's Marinette?"

"Ah," Luka began, his mind rushing for an excuse, "we actually decided to have our date here instead. Marinette just went up to her balcony to grab something."

It didn't feel good to lie, though he also felt a sense of accomplishment in protecting Marinette's secret. Was this what Marinette dealt with all the time; having to lie to people even if she didn't want to?

Sabine glanced up briefly to where the balcony was, then back to him, slightly confused but rolling with it. "Alright. Do you two need anything?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you though," he replied, hoping it didn't sound forced.

Thankfully, Sabine nodded and left without asking any further questions, the kwami emerging and clinging to Luka while they peered at the now-closed trap door. Luka breathed a sigh of relief, then went back to watching the akuma battle on his phone.

The rest of the fight took a couple minutes, and all that was left to do afterward was wait for Ladybug to return. Once again, Luka wished he had his guitar, making a mental note to get all of his feelings out when he got home, as typical music apps just didn't do anything for him.

An expected "thump" eventually came from the balcony, and the kwami drifting away from Luka as Ladybug descended and landed on her bed. She saw Luka staring at her and initially flinched, but it was clearly a reflex from people seeing her as Ladybug where she shouldn't be, and she hurried down to meet with him afterward. Luka hopped to his feet, not hesitating to meet her halfway and envelop her in a hug, earning a squeak out of her.

"L-luka?"

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just... I got to think about everything you must've gone through without m—" He choked off, suddenly embarrassed, then corrected, "—someone to help you."

She blinked, then giggled and hugged him back. "You're my boyfriend. You're apologizing for hugging me and being worried about sounding selfish?" She nestled her face against his shoulder and he blushed at how warm she was. "Don't. I like it when you're a little selfish, Luka. It grounds me; makes me feel like you're not totally out of my league."

Luka scoffed, nuzzling his head against hers. "You're in a league all your own. I'm literally dating a superhero."

"Trust me, it's not as cool as it sounds."

"I disagree. I think you're really cool."

She blushed profusely. "H-hey..."

He chuckled. "By the way, your mom came to check up on us."

Ladybug gasped, then pulled back, eyes wide and concerned. She was clearly about to apologize, so he cut her off before she could.

"I told her that we were having our date here and that you were getting something from the balcony. Everything's alright."

Her shoulders eased. She let out a sigh of relief as her head fell back against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He hummed contently, resting his hand along her back and keeping it there. Then, realizing when Sabine came up earlier and might do it again, he reminded her, "You're still Ladybug."

"Huh? ...Oh!" she said, though with less panic than normal and unwilling to recoil from the happy spot she was in.

He heard the whisper of her de-transformation phrase and winced as the light engulfed her, slowly turning her back into Marinette. He felt the spandex under his hand turn into fabric and Marinette's breath against his skin as she exhaled.

A kwami that Luka deduced was Marinette's flew a small distance away, eyeing Luka warily and semi-critically. Luka didn't blame her - he wasn't supposed to know - but he also knew that it was far too late to change anything now, and there was no way he was going to abandon Marinette or pretend he knew nothing. He imagined that the kwami knew that too.

"...I'm Tikki," the kwami greeted finally. "It's nice to meet you officially, Luka."

Luka gave her a nod in return, then stiffened somewhat as Marinette squeezed him tighter, burying her face further against him like she truly cherished him.

"It's still a lot," she whispered. "Is it okay if you hug me a little longer?"

"Of course." Though, he paused for a moment before adding, "Would it be more comfortable for you if we move to your chaise?"

"Hm?" She pulled away just enough to look down and realize that they were still awkwardly standing at the bottom of the steps to her bed. "Oh! Yeah, I mean—I didn't even—"

"Hey." He tenderly cupped her cheek, offering a smile. "I didn't complain, did I?"

She looked briefly surprised, making him wonder just how much she'd had to apologize in the past. They slowly made their way over to the chaise lounge, Luka settling down and opening his arms for her so she could settle onto his lap and snuggle against him. He leaned back against the chaise, throwing his legs across the length of it, then wrapped an arm around Marinette to make her feel secure.

"This is nice. It's... um—" She peeked up at him, then grinned shyly. "—melodic? Is that what you'd call it?"

He couldn't stop himself from snorting.

Marinette blushed in embarrassment. "H-hey! I'm trying, okay?"

"I know." He took a strand of her hair in his hand and stroked it. "You always try, and I love that about you."

She let out a series of whines at that, but doesn't protest the compliment either. She nestled against his chest, keeping her face turned away enough to still talk to him without her voice being muffled.

"I just... want to know more about you, Luka," she told him. "You're so sweet and I felt awful having to ditch you. Didn't it bother you?"

He gave a one-armed shrug. "You were busy. I unders—"

"Luka."

He stopped, meeting her firm gaze and knowing that he wasn't getting out of this easily. He sighed, admitting, "...Yeah, it bothered me, but it wasn't because of you or that I didn't trust you. I... see—my dad..." He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that he'd never told anyone this story before. "I never knew who he was. I asked my mom so many times, but she never gave me an answer. Whenever you had to leave and lie to me, I..."

"Oh." She raised herself up more to meet him closer to eye level. "I'm so sorry—wait—sorry, you told me not to apologize—Sorry! I did it agai—ACK!"

He laughed, feeling warm and delighted by how much she cared about him and wanted him to feel secure in their relationship. He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, wanting to nuzzle her for how cute she was being and just barely able to hold himself back.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you were looking out for me, but you deserve someone to look out for you too."

She pouted a bit at the heartfelt comment, then smiled and raised her hand to settle on his along her shoulder.

He hummed, pausing purposefully for effect before asking, "...So, what does the great guardian Marinette want to do now?"

"Oh my gosh, Luka."

He grinned, happy to compliment her until she was completely red. "How about the brave and heroic Ladybug then?"

"Luka."

He reached up to caress her cheek with his thumb. "But, if you ask me, I like the kind, sincere civilian Marinette best."

"LUKA!"

—————

The rest of their "date" passed by smoothly, Marinette's parents having left them alone so as to not interrupt anything. Marinette had idly brought up the idea that the movie might still be playing - just at a different time than they planned on going - but Luka brushed off the idea and insisted that he was happy there and didn't need to go on a "real" date with her to have fun, opting to leave it up to her.

And... yeah, neither of them were willing to leave their current position and exchange it for having to sit in different seats at a theater with other people around. They opted to just stare at the ceiling and talk, the kwami having respectfully retreated to Marinette's bed to give them privacy.

Talks of their past meetings and when she left to become Ladybug soon turned into a game of finishing Jagged Stone lyrics. Luka, either by being the bigger fan or just having an easier time remembering them, ended up winning in the end, though he couldn't have expected Marinette to follow up by immediately leaving his lap. He'd held back a whine at the sudden lack of warmth and wondered if maybe she'd been teasing him with some sort of punishment by going away.

But then she'd returned with a tiny pink gift box, and inside was a guitar pick necklace signed by Jagged Stone himself.

"He came into the bakery the other day and I had him sign it for you," she explained. Taking it out to fully present it to him, she asked, "Do...do you like it?"

"I love it, Marinette," he replied immediately, reaching out to feel the guitar pick and properly appreciate it. "I can have this?"

She smiled in response, holding the necklace out in a gesture that made his heart skip a beat, realizing that she was offering to put it on him herself. He leaned close, feeling the light brush of her fingers against his neck as she slipped it onto him. He silently hoped that it was durable because he was absolutely never taking it off.

Marinette's hands lingered on the string even when the necklace was fully on, Luka meeting her gaze to see that she was looking at him with all the love he'd ever dreamed of her offering him. He didn't say a word and neither did she, but with a light tug on his necklace, he was pulled towards her into a kiss. It was definitely too deep for their first but also so nice that neither of them cared, and not even the Ladybug revelation could outmatch his surprise at being so readily smooched.

Luka reached for the hand grabbing his necklace, Marinette letting go of it so they could thread their fingers together. His song was going crazy as she leaned forward, clearly wanting more from him and him being wonderfully helpless to resist her. He breathed her in, his other hand finding its place on her side. Her own hand rose up so her fingers could settle against the back of his neck, and he couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed by the sound he made when she started playing with his hair.

She didn't even pull away when their kiss broke, merely pressing her forehead to his while they each caught their breath. Despite the boldness she'd just displayed, she somehow couldn't maintain eye contact and ended up looking elsewhere while all he could do was stare at her in a daze.

"S-sor—" She paused, remembering again that he told her not to apologize. "I-I mean, I'm... not sorry? I—ah—remembered you saying that music is simpler than words, so I just—I thought that maybe I shouldn't ask you with words and just... play it instead?" Luka could feel the heat radiating from her blush as she hurriedly added, "Um... is that okay?"

He answered her with another kiss.

[clairecrive]

"Bookish talks"- Billy Russo x reader

A/n: again, not requested but the idea popped into my mind after reading @faulty-coding piece. (I think)

Warnings: a bit of angst, misunderstandings but fluffy ending

Word count: 1.5k +

Tagging: @thefictionalgemini , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx (if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

My masterlists are here.

"Yeah, she's been going on and on about this book. I've got five more minutes to go."

Well, the things you find out when you turn up where you're not supposed to be.

To be fair, you didn't mean to eavesdrop. When you got out that morning you had forgotten to take your wallet. Here explained why you had returned not even ten minutes from where you first walked out. You didn't even think that Billy would be still at home, so you didn't bother with announcing yourself.

And look what a surprise you were met with.

Taking your wallet, you hurried out of Billy's apartment set on not hearing anymore.

*+* *+* *+*

The day passed as it normally would. You had pushed back Billy's words in your mind because you had work to do. It wouldn't be smart to unpack what it meant so early in the morning when you had so much to do.

You weren't mad per se. You were rather hurt that he had never told you that he didn't enjoy your talks about the latest book you were reading. So yeah, let's add "stupid and guilty" under your current mood. You didn't want to put Billy in a position where he had to bear with something he didn't like. But how were you meant to know if he didn't talk to you?

This is not the moment, you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head.

Coherent with your routine though, at six, Billy's call came. Of course, he acted normally, nothing had happened for him, after all.

"So, you coming around tonight?"

"Nope, book club meeting tonight."

"Oh, right. Was kinda hoping you'd ditch them."

"They're my outlet for my book nerdiness, Billy. Wouldn't want to annoy anyone with my craze over books."

"Who said you do?"

"You did."

It wasn't your intention to confront him on the matter over the phone. It was an instant reaction.

Billy didn't gasp but the silence you were met with was more than enough to show you that he'd been taken aback.

"Y/n-"

"It's okay, Billy. I don't mind if you don't like listening to me talking about books. I just wish you would have told me. I wouldn't be feeling so stupid and guilty for all the time I've made you waste now if you had."

"You didn't waste my time."

From that moment, things between you had Billy went back to normal. Sort of. He hadn't confronted you on the matter anymore and of course, you wouldn't bring it back up. So you settled in your usual routine, without of course any mention of books.

"Mh," looking at the clock on your desk you noticed that if you only have half an hour to finish your last assignment and before you need to leave, " I've got to go now, Billy. I'll talk to you soon." You ended the call without waiting for a response.

*+* *+* *+*

You were currently on Billy's sofa, leaning on him while you watched a documentary on Ancient Rome. It was interesting and it made you think about a book you had read on the subject a while ago. You opened your mouth to share your thoughts with Billy but a flashback of his words stopped you.

What if he hated it when you did that too?

"You're awfully quiet tonight." His voice startled you from your thoughts.

"A bit tired."

"Haven't got any anecdotes for me tonight?"

"Nope."

Your eyes didn't leave the tv screen. Yes, the documentary was interesting but you also didn't want Billy to know that you were lying. He had the uncanny ability of sensing whenever you weren't being genuine.

Out of the blue, the documentary stopped and the sound of the control hitting the coffee table told you that it was Billy who had paused it.

His hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from him so that he could look you in the eyes.

"You're holding back."

"You're holding me back." Was your witty yet unnecessary reply. Billy's jaw clenched but the grip on your arms didn't tighten.

"Is this about the book thing?"

"We're watching a documentary, Billy. Why would it be about the book thing?"

"You always have something to say when we watch this stuff. Something you've read somewhere, some time ago." He explained, quoting you.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me stuff," he added more softly when you didn't speak.

"Oh, I know I can. You just bitch about it with your friends whenever I do though."

His eyes squinted lightly, if his hands weren't on you, you probably would have missed how his shoulders tensed too.

"So it is about the book thing," he murmured releasing your arms.

"Well, Billy, you've basically fallen under the category of the white man who complains about how annoying his girlfriend is to his friends."

"I've not said you're annoying."

"You might as well have," you huffed crossing your arms, turning away from him.

"I know I sounded like an asshole but that's not what I meant. I really don't mind when you go off for ten minutes on some book you're reading."

"Spare me the bullshit, Billy. You don't have to lie to not hurt my feelings. It's too late for that anyway."

"I'm not lying." he insisted offended by your accusation but you didn't bother responding to him.

Billy sighed, one of his hands wiped over his face as he, no doubt, was trying to think of how to make this right. But maybe it was your time to speak.

"I realise that me sharing every thought or little thing that happens can be overwhelming." Fiddling with the fingers of your hands, you tried to find the right words.

"When me and Karen chose our university major, I was sure that our friendship was going to end. It happens, you take different paths and suddenly you go from best friends t someone you say hi to whenever you meet them around." You stopped to look at him. Bily's eyes were solely focused on you, so you continued.

"To avoid that, we developed a sort of routine where we would tell each other about our days, what we did, the things that happened, people we had met and stuff like that. We'd usually met once a week if not more often and this way we managed to strengthen our relationship and here we are after ten years, still best friends."

"Even if we went our separate ways, neither of us felt left out or behind from the other's life. I knew her friends even if I hadn't met them and since she told me everything I felt like I was as part of her life as I was when we shared every class together."

"I'm a rather introverted and reserved person, Billy. I'm sure you gathered that by now. I guess sharing this kind of things, books I read, things I do and stuff is my way of making you an active presence in my life. Because I care about you and I wouldn't want you to feel left out. Also because I don't feel the need to filter myself around you." A pause. "Well, did."

During your soliloquy, you didn't meet Billy's eyes. It felt deeply personal to share this with him but you hoped it would help him understand. Not necessarily make him enjoy your bookish talk but to make him at least not think of you as annoying.

Billy didn't speak. He had let you have your moment because it was clear that there were things you had been keeping to yourself. You hadn't been dating for long, only a couple of months, so you were still getting to know each other.

Yes, Billy wasn't exactly a bibliophile but he enjoyed the thought of being someone you trusted so much to the point where you're not afraid of opening up.

He really wanted to kick himself for having ruined that. For making you feel like a burden.

Leaning towards you, he gently turned your face to him.

"What you've heard the other day was me explaining to Frankie what I was doing." His voice was soft as if he was afraid that he'd ruin the intimate atmosphere by speaking louder.

"I was listening to your message about that book and yes, it was seven minutes long and yes, you were going on and on about a character's motives and his psychology but I didn't mean to imply it was annoying." His eyes flickered between yours and he seemed truthful enough but you were still hesitant.

"It's okay if you don't enjoy it, Billy. My father hates whenever I do that but that doesn't mean that he loves me any less." You offered him another way out.

"Well, I guess this is why you told me you're not looking for a man like your father."

"Are we good?" He murmured, eyes flickering between yours. You nodded leaning into his touch.

"Trust me, you're nothing like my father." you chuckled, accepting his words for what you knew knew they implied.

Smiling at you, Billy's hands reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Do you promise to talk to me if there's something wrong?" You asked him, needing the reassurance.

"Don't I always talk your ears off when you leave your stuff hanging around?" True enough but you needed him to say it.

"I promise." He conceded, nose bumping into yours before kissing you softly.

"So, got any fun fact to share?" He asked you again, pointing to the tv with his head.

"I've got a few, yes." You shily smiled at him.

"Hit me." Leaning back on the sofa, he got comfortable as he encouraged you to speak.

[thegremlincrowsnest]

Little Lamb

This is my first collab piece and is part of Citrus Dome Server Hybrid AU Collab! Please Please check out all of the other amazing creators apart of this collab! 

CW: Dirty talk, slight creeping from another hybrid, overall NSFW 

You were always warned about the potential dangers of working for a hellhound. How they prey on hybrids like yourself and how you should be on your toes. Who had ever heard of a sheep hybrid working well with a hellhound? But you persisted, accepting the position of personal assistant to one Enji Todoroki. 

You knew it would be challenging, but you were ready, always looking up to the large flame hound with reverence and adore. The first day was an odd one. Arriving early, you made his coffee and had his morning coffee prepared. When he came, you couldn’t help but stare up at him as he walked by; bowing slightly, you say, “Good Morning, Sir. My name is (y/n)-” “I know who you are.” He says curtly. As he looks you up and down, you notice the slight flare of his nostrils. His pupils turn into slits as he leans down to your level to look at you. Leaning close to your neck, he sniffs a few times before standing tall. Your cheeks burn as you worry about how you smell. “Hm...Precious.” He says before he walks into his office. You stand for a second, stunned, before trailing behind him with your clipboard. 

The next few months were...interesting, to say the least. You had always heard and seen on TV how intimidating and standoffish he was but, as you worked with him more, you got to see those soft cracks. He even invited you to join him for mundane things as the months went along. Dinners and lunches became almost routine; your professional and personal lives seemingly bleed together. He became softer to you, and you felt that you could confide in him when things got tough for you. He also became highly protective of you, not as if you needed it. Being able to handle your own in a work environment filled with predator alphas was a skill you learned quickly before working for him. However, you did notice how Enji would growl at younger employees who would flirt with you or place a protective hand around your waist during meetings with other heroes. Especially whenever the no. 2 hero Hawks would come around. The young griffon hybrid had taken a liking to you a while into your employment. Always finding an excuse to follow you around and compliment you endlessly on your physique. 

“Honestly, Enji. How can you work with such a plush and tasty one like that? I’d have them bent over my desk in a heartbeat.” Hawks would tease slightly as he watched you. Enji would growl possessively, telling Hawks to knock it off. “They’re a loyal employee. I’m grateful to have someone as determined as them.” He would say. Pausing a moment to indeed look over your form, eyes lingering on the swell of your hips and thighs. Yearning to know what it would feel like to have his fingers in the softness of your curls, brushing fingers across your cute ears. His eyes finally ended on your tail, wagging excitedly as you wrote down dates and appointments on the large calendar you had insisted on putting up for him. Saying, ‘That way, even if I’m not here, I trust you won’t be totally lost.’ He grunted at the notion but had to hide his blush at the bright and warm smile you gave him. “They are..attractive. But that has no bearing on work ethic Hawks.” He says as he forces his eyes back down to the papers in front of him. 

You walk up to his desk, setting down a few papers before leaning over. “Ok, so this is the plan for the next few weeks. I’ve scheduled a few interviews and appearances and spaced them out, so you have some time to prepare.” You begin as you point to different dates and times. You were wearing a relatively low-cut maroon dress; Enji had mentioned once that the color looked good on you. With your hair pulled back, anyone could get a nice view of your assets. It became clear when Enji glanced over to see Hawks unabashedly staring at your chest. The rage that filled him was something he had never experienced before. Standing up, he gripped Hawks arm, pulling him towards and out the door before closing and locking it. You stopped your explanation, watching, confused as your boss’ flames grew slightly before extinguishing entirely as he walked towards you. “Sir? Is everything ok?” You asked. Enji stood in front of you, looking you up and down before settling on your face. With one hand, he gently pushed a stray lock of curly hair behind your ear. Entranced by how your brown skin shimmered in the light of the setting sun. Cupping your face gently, he brushed the apple of your cheek, smiling softly as you leaned into his hand. You held onto his wrist with your much more petite hands—ears flattening as you looked up at him with a smile. “Y/N…Is it..alright if I kiss you?”, He asks. Your eyes widen as his thumb grazes your lips; you nod quickly, not wanting to wake up from this dream. He leans down, gently pressing his lips against yours. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you whimper softly. He tastes like hickory and coffee, and your tail shakes excitedly as you feel his hands grip your hips. Pulling back, he stares at your face, eyes half-lidded and soft pants escaping your plump lips. Growling softly, he lifts you up; walking back to his chair, he sits down, placing you on top of his desk. 

“Do you know how many times I have to excuse myself because I can smell how horny you are?” He says as he kisses your neck, fingers gripping your plush thighs as he gently pulls them apart. “You smell so fucking delicious, like milk and honey.” He says as he kisses down the valley of your breast. His tail thumping against his chair as he reaches behind to grip the zipper of your dress. “May I?” He asks as he looks up at you. You nod again, face flushed as you hold his face in your hands. “You can do whatever you want, Sir. I’ve waited so long for this.” You say as you feel him lower our zipper, gently pulling down the straps of your dress. He growls softly as he sucks on one of your nipples, pinching and pulling on the other. Hearing your soft moans and pleas for him to give you more, the gentle tugging of his hair as you press yourself into him. As he switches to your other breast, he lets one hand roam, squeezing your thighs and ass before reaching your tail. So soft and short, he can’t help but tug it gently, kneading it as he milks your tits. Your soft whimpers and moans were music to his ears as he continued to ravish you. One of your hands rubbed his fluffy ear, making him growl and bite your nipple. Pulling back, he kisses down your soft stomach, kissing every stretchmark before he reaches your mound. Getting on his knees, he looks up at you, gently rubbing your clit with his thumb as he kisses the inside of your thighs. You moan louder, bucking your hips against his fingers. “Are you ready little lamb? To have this wolf eat you?” He asks as he continues to rub your clit. You nod quickly, spreading your legs more as you whimper softly. “Please, Enji. Eat me~.” 

His resolve snaps as he lunges in; licking your hole gently, he groans. You taste so good, so sweet. His tail thumps against the floor as he thrusts his tongue into your entrance. Fingers digging into your thighs as he slowly moves his tongue inside of you, nose brushing against your clit. It feels like hours go by as he devours you, drinking you down as he gently coaxes orgasm after orgasm from you. Deciding you’re ready, he stands up; as he begins to undo his belt, you stop him. Moving to kneel in front of him, you undo his belt and pull out his cock, drooling slightly at how heavy it is in your hands. It throbs as you stroke it gently, feeling every vein and ridge as you grip the base. Looking up at him with big eyes, you begin to take him into your mouth. Whimpering as you take more of his cock down your throat. He groans above you, gently placing a hand on your head, admiring your curls and how soft they feel. You whimper as you struggle taking the last two inches of his cock, choking and drooling as you keep trying. Enji can’t take it anymore and grips your head; thrusting deeply, he holds you to the base, rutting against you as he moans loudly. “Fuck Y/N! I’m gonna cum down that slutty mouth of yours.” He growls.  

Your tiny hands grip his hips as you feel his cock pulse in your throat. Cumming down your throat as he whines, tail wagging like crazy. Pulling back, he holds onto your cheeks, tilting your face up to him to examine you. What he wasn’t expecting was your blissed-out eyes and mouth open, filled with his cum. Gulping it down and showing their mouth empty again. Lifting you up and laying you back down on the table, he spread your legs, rubbing your clit gently as he stroke his cock. “Ready little lamb?” He asks as he gently presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Nodding frantically, you mewled, reaching up for him. “Please, Enji...Breed me~ I wanna feel your fat cock inside me so bad!” You moan out as you look up at him. Desperately holding himself together, he sheaths himself slowly inside, growling at your walls constricting around his cock. His claws grew and dug into your plush thighs as he pushed them to your chest, licking his lips at your soft stomach and tits as he bottomed out. Your eyes rolled back as you felt his cock press against your cervix, throbbing by the second. He couldn’t hold back anymore, your whimpers, your soft skin under his large hands. It was all too much; Baring his fangs, he began thrusting hard and deep inside. Making you whine louder and hold onto his forearms. The slapping of his balls against your ass rang loudly throughout the room as he began to quicken his pace. Lifting you up, he held you close, snarling in your ear as he bounces you on his cock, claws drawing blood as they sink into the flesh of your ass. “Fuck..You fit so well on my cock; how does it feel to be a cock sheath little lamb.” He growls as he feels you cum around his cock. You can barely speak, eyeliner and mascara streaking down your face as you thought your pussy clench around him. “S-so good! Your cock feels so good!” You babbled as you tried to hold onto him. He chuckles, licking a stripe up your neck as he sits back in his chair, bouncing you on his cock while he watches your face. Flushed out and crying from overstimulation, he can’t help but think you’re ethereal. The look in your eyes is one he hasn’t seen towards him in a while, one of pure love and admiration. “Enji. Enji, I love you.” You say so sweetly to him; he reaches up and cups your face gently, you grind your hips down on his cock. Taking some control, you begin to bounce on his cock slowly, using his shoulders as leverage. “Fuck. I love you more, Y/N. Fuck I want to keep you to myself. Always so jealous of letting those lackeys seeing what’s mine.” He growls as he watches you bounce on his cock. Leaning up to suckle on one of your breasts as he holds you closer to him. One of his ear twitches, listening around, he notices you both aren’t alone. You see, he’s distracted, lifting his head up to stop bouncing, whimpering softly. “Enji...is everything ok?” You asked worriedly. The sunset reflects off of your e/c eyes, making them shimmer and glow. He lifts you up again, spinning you around and rolling you both towards the window. Spreading your legs wide, he slowly thrusts up into you, kissing your hair and gently rubbing your clit. “Just relax for me, little lamb. You need to if you’re gonna take my knot.” He says as you start to feel something else slowly bumping against your entrance. You begin to relax before beginning to comprehend what he said. Before you can even ask him to explain, he grips your hips, slamming you down onto his knot. You feel his knot press against your g-spot, sending you over the edge, squirting on his cock with your legs shivering. His piercing blue eyes, staring off outside as he bites down on your shoulder, you only let out a squeal as he starts thrusting inside faster, rutting against you. He can’t help but get you on the floor, thrusting down, determined to make you cum again before he fills your womb. You’re marked up and bruised, still looking like an angel to him as he finally holds you close to him. Howling softly as he fills your tiny cunt, letting you pant softly and regain your composer as he pets your head. Looking up to meet golden eyes across the way to the top of the building. 

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2 again. Hope you’re having a good weekend, EMT (and everyone else!). This was inspired by the images from the hommage for Pierre Soulages. It may be a little on the sadder end, but I just couldn’t get over how sad they looked, and it made me think of some other stuff, and this just kind of came pouring out. I hope you all enjoy it. If this is too sad, I apologize. I’ll do something really light and fluffy for my next piece. Promise!

He was uncharacteristically quiet on the way back to the Élysée. Normally after they went somewhere, especially if he gave a speech, he’d spend the whole car ride debriefing the event with her. Eyes wide and eager, excited and breathless, he’d want to solicit her thoughts, give her his impressions, trade notes on his delivery. Like always, he took her hand the second they settled into their seats, holding it in his and resting them jointly on the middle seat between them, but other than a few soft strokes of his thumb against the back of her hand every so often, he seemed lost in his own little world as he stared out the window at the city as they sped by.

She kept her watchful eye trained on him, just as she had during the service and afterwards when they had spent time with and consoling the beloved family he left behind. She has seen what these hommages and pantheon tributes, even the funerals and memorials they attend can do to him, her sensitive, empathetic husband. This kind man, unafraid to show his emotions, who proudly wears his heart on his sleeve - as demonstrative in his sorrow as he is in his happiness. He loves deeply, he grieves deeply, he feels deeply. And his beautiful heart, his big heart, his sweet heart, which she would do anything to protect, was clearly hurting.

“Chéri?” she inquired softly, trying to gain his attention without startling him.

“Hmm?” he answered nonverbally, slowly turning away from the window back towards her.

Her heart broke to see his downcast face, the deep lines on his forehead, the tears pearling in the corners of his eyes, the frown pulling down his mouth. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help you?”

He smiled briefly at that, the light not quite returning to his eyes, but his appreciation for her care and her devotion clearly making a difference, if even for a brief moment. “I’m okay, Brigitte.”

“This isn’t okay, Emmanuel. Let me help you. Whatever it is that’s upset you or that’s troubling you, just talk to me. I love you. I am here for you, always. Just talk to me.”

He took a deep sigh as he weighed his options and his next words carefully. They were always honest with each other, even when it hurt. Their honesty was their strength, it’s why he trusts her more than anyone else in the world, especially now, and he knows, she sometimes has these thoughts and moments too. “I’m just thinking about his widow. They were together for 80 years, Brigitte. I haven’t even known you for 30 years yet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. She’s just lost her partner, and all I can think about is what would happen to me if I lost you, and -“

She cut him off before he could work himself into any more of a state, reaching over with the hand that wasn’t holding his to gently cup his face, her thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on his cheek. “The thing I hate the most about our situation is the fact that my age makes it likely that I’m going to go first. I can’t stand imagining the world I’m going to be leaving you in because I can’t even begin to imagine a universe where you go first and leave me behind.

“You know, since my sister passed, I’ve had a complicated relationship with death, and knowing I’m only promised the present, I hold on to each moment. So each new day, I hold to the fact that I have today with you, that I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I say a prayer each night in gratitude for that gift of one more day with you.

“But, I promise you this, every single second I have left in this life I am yours, I will love you until my dying breath, and whatever lies beyond, I will be with you in whatever form I can, and I will be waiting for you to come home to me. You will never, ever be alone, not if I have anything to say about it. Do you understand me?”

He nodded gently, the heavy feeling in his stomach releasing a little at her words. “Yeah,” he smiled again weakly, this time holding it a little longer. Turning slowly so he could press a soft kiss on the palm that was still cupping his face, he asked, “when we get back, can you just hold me for a minute?”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll hold you for forever.”

Hellooo Fanfic Anon #2!❤️

Oh my heart! I felt you were going there. The way you built it, Emmanuel being sad and thoughtful... And when I had the confirmation it was him thinking about losing Brigitte 💔 It was sad, yes, but sad in a touching way. Him scared, her reassuring him even if she fears it too... so beautiful 🤧

(I wonder if it’s something they actually talk/think about...)

Thank you so much for another beautiful piece! ❤️❤️❤️

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Saturated

Author’s Note: Here it is, the long awaited one-shot that ended up a mini story in length. This wasn’t a planned idea, just something I went with and this is the result. I know this fandom is starting to shrink due to the show ending, but I hope those of you still here are having fun!

Masterlist

Summary/Pairing: Ivar x Reader In which Ivar thinks he’s found a daughter of the goddess Rán

Wordcount: 9642

Warnings:  Language, Angst, Smut NSFW

The night was warm and still when Ivar made his way down to the stretching shore. It was a difficult trek the older he became because he had to wade through the sand that seemed to double his weight and sap his strength. After all that effort, he was reminded why he put himself through such a trial when he came into the blessed solitude. When he was a boy he had found an old fishermen's dock that was no longer used, and it was a quiet place he could go without being bothered. Sometimes he would look out at the water and imagine all the lands that were waiting for him to bring them terror and glory. When he was feeling less ambitious after drinking with his brothers, he would lie back on the creaking boards of the dock and gaze at the stars and wonder if the gods were watching in forethought.

His mother told him it was the sea that would take him from her. Her eyes would grow empty yet full of sadness, and he could only watch without being able to comfort her. Ivar wanted to journey, and he assumed his mother's vision meant that either it was by ship or drowning that he would be taken. When one entered a longboat to go raiding, the chance of a storm crashing down was always a possibility, but it was a risk worth taking for honor and legacy. He loved his mother, more than anyone, but he could not stay in Kattegat forever. His fate was out there waiting, and he needed only to extend his hand to take it.

A sudden movement in the water broke his focus and he looked out over the dock to the rippling surface. His eyes adjusted, and he thought his mind had gone when he recognized the whites of a pair of eyes staring back at him. There was a person in the water, bobbing just to their nose above the surface. At first, Ivar reached forward with his hand. They must have been frozen to the bone in the frigid sea. Kattegat's waters never warmed, even in summer.

When he looked at his hand cast forward, he felt foolish. With his useless legs, he couldn't swim. His upper body strength might support him a moment or two, but then sink and be wrapped under in the weeds before he could take a breath. He withdrew his hand only to find the eyes were no longer where they should have been.

Ivar scooted closer to the edge of the dock, searching the black water for the face he thought he saw. He rubbed at his eyes. Perhaps he hadn't slept well enough, or maybe he had ingested something spoiled during the last meal. He chose to believe his senses were sharp. They had kept him alive this long, and while trying to match his brothers no less. His eyes did another sweep of the shore before he called out, "I know you're there. You should know you cannot hide from a son of Ragnar."

His legs that dangled over the pier were parted, and a figure came straight out from the water to rest its arms on his thighs. Ivar flushed when he saw the figure was womanly. A beautiful and terrifying face, with large silver eyes, peered up at him. He had mistaken you for a woman, but you were something more. The hair that tangled down to your waist dipped into the water, and below was not a pair of legs kicking. Black scales with a pearlescent shimmer. You were one of Rán's creatures, or perhaps a daughter to the goddess herself.

"Ragnarsson," You spoke, and he was struck dumb by your voice. "Few may hear the siren's song calling."

Ivar's eyes shot to your hand as it trailed up his leg. Your nails were long, and there was a transparent webbing between your fingers. What surprised him even more than your strange claws was how gentle your touch was. It was a caress barely felt through his trousers.

"Who are you?"

You smiled. "I am (Y/N)."

"I am Ivar."

"I know you," You replied, and your sweeping hand switched to cupping his cheek. "You have your father's eyes and spirit."

"You know Ragnar Lothbrok?" Ivar asked while leaning into your touch. Your hand was warm despite the brisk waters you waded in.

"I know many faces of your home. I like to watch and learn from your people. Your father was a gazer too, but his eyes were to the horizon. You search the stars and night sky."

When you began to pull away, Ivar grabbed your hand and brought it back to his face. "Do you know my brothers?"

"I have seen them, but my song does not reach their ears. You are unique."

Ivar simpered. He could hear what his brothers could not. While they were off in barns and clearings, playing under the skirts of thralls, he was alone in the quiet of the night with a goddess. The sea had chosen him, though youngest and deformed.

"Why have you sought me out?" He asked, desperate to have his hopes confirmed.

"I wish to talk with you, and learn more of your kind. But we must always meet under darkness, for many of your people would rather hurt me than trust me."

Ivar knew why. Fishermen told tales of beautiful women taking sailors to the water, down to the sea bed of Rán's hall, never again to surface. He did not think you had the malice to do such a thing to him.

"How do I know you'll return? Is this even real?"

He couldn't help the creeping doubt from springing forth, and you flashed him a look of pity before plucking the knife from his belt. That got his attention, and he lurched forward to reach for the thing, but you held no ill intent. Instead, you pulled your hair over your shoulder and cut free a length to give to him. It was softer than any wolf pelt, and he clutched it tight to his chest.

"Giving a lock of hair to another can be one's undoing, so believe that I will return or curse me should I ever be treacherous," You said, and you slid his knife back into place before dragging your hand down his thigh. His cock gave a twitch, and your grin told him you knew. "Farewell Ivar."

You slipped back into the water like a needle through silk, and he was only able to catch a glimpse of your tail before you disappeared into the deep.

ooOOoo

Ivar went back to the dilapidated dock every night, and true to your word you would be there waiting in the water. You only approached once he took his place at the end of the pier, and Ivar would keep his legs apart so you would come rest between them. As you spoke of things unimportant, he would weave his hand with yours, playing with your fingers and the thin membrane of webbing. You would return the affections with little pets of your own, and you always left a kiss to the corner of his mouth before parting.

The lock of hair you had given to him was always with him. He had braided it together into a bracelet that he wore everywhere on his wrist. If his brothers thought anything about it, they never voiced such concerns. Ivar presumed they figured he had found his own thrall to be with, and as distracted as they were with Margrethe, they didn't dig further into his affair. His mother had noticed the thing as well, and always she would give it a long stare. Ivar always anticipated her to ask, but she avoided mentioning it as if it were a matter too delicate to speak of.

Ivar wished he could bring you to meet his family if only to brag to his brothers that you had chosen him. But he knew that could never happen. They would fear that you were a deceiver after his life, and his mother would have you killed to keep him safe. She probably would never let him near water again.

"Ivar," You called, clasping both hands on either side of his face. "Your mind is elsewhere tonight."

"Sorry," He said, looking away momentarily. "I just was thinking what it would be like to live our lives together."

"Come with me to the water," You suggested, and you gave a small tug on his arm that scooted him closer to the edge. He almost let you drag him in before he grew hesitant and pushed back.

"I can't swim like this," He said, scowling at you and then his legs.

"I will keep you safe." Ivar searched your face for any deception, but he only saw your smile. "You don't trust me?"

"I do," He said quickly. "But I…"

You heaved yourself upwards on the dock until it was just the tip of your tail whipping strokes in the water. Ivar caught your bare torso against his chest, and he flushed as your breasts pressed up against him. You were practically sharing the same air, noses brushing together as you steadied yourself in his arms. Your eyes met and you breathed a laugh that eased his previous concerns.

"We won't go far. I just want to show you that your legs aren't the burden you think they are."

You weren't pleading, and Ivar was intrigued by your suggestion. He gave you a short nod, and that was all it took for you to wrap your arms around him and haul him down into the depths. Your strength was surprising, but the admiration was banished from his mind the moment the cold water soaked straight through to his blood. He thrashed his arms, grabbing for purchase at imaginary aids that weren't there. When he tried to let out a shout, he swallowed saltwater. The sea was going to take him, just as his mother feared.

No. You were there, and you had never left. Like a spark to wood, Ivar was enveloped in a new warmth, and he floated to the surface with your arms around him. He took his first breath of air, but his throat was raw and he sputtered and choked. Your lips closed over his while he continued to cough, and it was as if you pulled all of the water out from his lungs. He didn't know if it was a real kiss, but he wore a shy grin as you pulled away.

"Breathe," You instructed. "Breathe, and look up at the stars you love."

Ivar first looked back at the shore and realized you had kept your promise. You had only taken him out far enough so his feet wouldn't brush the sandy floor. He then craned his neck up to the sky and found the familiar sight of his stars. They were the same out in the water as they were on land, a comforting thought for when he would one day sail away from home. The sky would always be there.

"Lie back and let the water hold you," You whispered in his ear from behind.

Ivar didn't know when you had maneuvered around to his back, but he continued to put his faith in you as you guided him down gently into the water. He was lying face up with his body floating across the surface weightless and free. You joined beside him, and together you shared in the silent night, bathed in the moonlight with the motion of the sea carrying your bodies. Ivar forgot for a moment about his broken legs. Drifting there beside you, he felt whole.

"You didn't answer me before," He spoke up, and you watched him with curiosity. "About us living our lives together. Is it possible?"

"There are those of my people who have given up the sea's blessing to live on land. Some may even live among your kind, though I doubt you would recognize them."

"How did they do it?" Ivar was sure even the dumbest farmer in Kattegat would have noticed a child of Rán flopping about.

"When my people choose to live a life as a land dweller, they simply have to go ashore. The blessing of the sea will fade, and in place will be a soft and weak human body, " You explained, and you turned your eyes away from him. "But the sea is vengeful and she hates those who leave her waters. Once the blessing fades, we can never return to her currents, or else we would be reduced to nothing more than foam that settles into tide pools."

If you were to be together you would have to give up everything you knew to be with him. Ivar wanted to ask this of you, but he was afraid of your answer. Being a prince as well as his mother's favored son meant he never had to work for anything. What he wanted he got, and always in plenty. If you refused him, he feared the rejection and what his reaction could be. He wasn't beyond forcing you out from the water onto dry land if it meant keeping you for himself. Better to not ask now. It was too early to demand so much from you.

He heard you shift in the water, and you were at his side again while supporting his back with your strong hands. "You don't want to ask me?"

Ivar shook his head. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"I know you will soon, Ivar. It's in your eyes, they darken with hunger."

"What would you say if I did?"

He let out a shiver as you righted him back into your arms, holding him in your embrace that let him know you were in control. "I would say that you could also give up your life to be with me. Right now, I could take you down there, and you would never again have to worry about dragging yourself upon the land."

The idea of never having to crawl again was tantalizing, something he had always wished for, and yet...even if he was with you, he knew he wouldn't forget all that he would leave behind. He wanted to show his people he could lead and conquer better than any man, even without working legs.

"I couldn't," He murmured.

"Then it is good I did not ask, and nor will you ask it of me. We will take comfort in the joy we have now, and forget everything else."

You met his eyes with your own. Silver, just like the treasures that were brought back over from raids. Ivar refused to fluster under your gaze, even though your peering felt like a piercing dagger. He wanted to appear self-assured, and not as some young lad who needed you to hold him. He pulled you close and planted a clumsy but heartfelt kiss. Your lips were cold but your mouth was warm, and he tried to keep up with your feverish pace as you devoured everything from the kiss.

When you clapped your hands on his cheeks, Ivar could feel himself trembling, and he knew it wasn't because of the kiss. Your mouth left him, and he tried to find your lips again. You placed a finger to his mouth to stop him and gave him a shake of your head. "You are like ice. I've kept you here too long."

"Not long enough," He retorted before sneaking another kiss on you.

You laughed while gently prying him back. "You have your father's confidence."

"Good, maybe you can find out what else of his I have." He gave you his best wolfish grin.

"We'll have our time," You promised, and you secured an arm around him before starting to swim back to shore.

The water seemed to grow colder as you glided through it and by the time you made it back to the pier, Ivar couldn't control his shivering. You urged him up onto the dock, and your concern had made you grow quiet. Ivar didn't mind that you fretted over his well-being, but he missed your smile.

"How will you make it back home?" You asked while looking over him to where the edge of the town was barely visible through the treeline. It was a long way off.

"I've travelled further," Ivar excused, though he had his trepidations. His damp clothes were sticking to him, and his hair felt like grass after the thawing in spring. The cold made his muscles tighten, and he wasn't looking forward to pawing at the ground with stiff hands.

"Go now, while you have the moon's light to guide you."

"When can I see you again?" It was becoming more difficult each time he had to leave you, and his thoughts revolved around when you could be together.

"I'll come back until I feel you no longer wish to see me." You reached your hand out to him, and Ivar took it, bringing it to his chest.

"That will never happen."

What he was saying must have been madness. Maybe you were Rán's daughter, and you had him under a spell. If you did, he didn't care. He would gladly stay under your enchantment. It was a warmth all his own, and a happiness he didn't have to share or contend with his brothers over.

"Goodnight my love." You placed your lips once more on his hand before returning to the sea.

Ivar did not watch after you as he usually would. It was a luxury he couldn't afford. The desperation to get inside by a fire drove him to turn towards home, and he struggled through the terrain as fast as his dragging would get him. He only passed by drunks and stragglers that did not give him a second glance upon realizing who he was. Ragnar's youngest son, the cripple. No one important.  

He huffed his way up the stairs of the Great Hall, nudging on the doors with his shoulder until they parted. A low fire was burning in the pit, and his mother was asleep on her throne. She was still all done up from the last meal, and he realized she must have waited up for his return. His guilt propelled him forward, and he went towards her instead of his room. Careful not to wake her, he collapsed on the furs at her feet where sleep found him quickly.

Ivar didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he was startled awake by screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was his voice shouting, and he had jack-knifed into a seated position, clutching at his lower right leg. He knew he had broken a bone, and his mother, who was alert at his side, knew it as well. She called for two able-bodied guards to take him back to his room, out of sight of the thralls who had now gathered. None of his brothers were about, and he was relieved to be spared the humiliation. The weakness of his body during moments like this was only for his mother and the healers.

He was placed down onto the fur-covered palette in his room with one of the guards already off to fetch a healer. His mother was already trying to soothe his agony with her words, and as she brushed the hair on his forward she grew a frown.

"You're burning up," She said, feeling his forehead and then his chest. And your clothes are damp."

He swatted softly at her hand, frustrated with her observations but with never enough ire to cause her any harm. "Go away."

"Ivar, where do you go? All of these nights you leave my sight and no one knows anything about it." She plucked at the bracelet of your hair on his wrist before he jerked it out of her reach. "Who is this woman you see?"

"Get out, please," He begged. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he didn't know if it was from the fever or the pain in his legs.

He was spared any further argument from her when the healer entered with three other thralls to assist. With soft voices, they were able to make her leave, at least until they finished addressing his fracture. Ivar would have felt awful at banishing his mother from his side if he could summon any other thought that wasn't about the hurt he was feeling.

The trek back through Kattegat had proved to be too much, but he didn't regret the night spent with you. In the water under the stars, and in your arms sharing kisses was where he wanted to be. He kept those thoughts in mind as the healer got to work on setting his leg in place, slathering it in a warming salve before wrapping it tightly in bandages.

"My Prince, you will need to stay in bed for the next few days to give the bone time to mend."

He gazed up at the rafters of the ceiling with contempt. How was he supposed to stay put knowing you were out there waiting for him? He couldn’t let the time pass and risk losing you, but he would need help.

"Go and bring me Ubbe," He instructed one of the thralls who shuffled out of the room at his request.

The healer continued to try and force some foul brew down his throat that he cursed her for at every turn of his head. Ivar knew he was notorious for being difficult to treat, but this healer had stuck through the bad times at his side. He admired her tenacity. If the situation was reversed, he would have given up on himself a long time ago.

After he had taken a large enough dose of the revolting stuff, he was left alone. The medicine made his head foggy, and he drifted in and out of consciousness while waiting for Ubbe to arrive. His eldest brother was best suited for the task in mind because he was soft when it came to Ivar's condition. Hvitserk didn't care about his legs either way, and Sigurd made a point to disparage him at every turn so he was definitely out of the running. Ivar guessed they had to all be out to the hunter's cabin. Following the commotion he had caused in the morning, one of them would have heard about it by now if they had been in town. It was nothing new really. He was used to being left behind.

Just as he was about to slip into another fitful bout of sleep, his door was forced open and in came his brother. He looked out of breath from running at least half of the distance back. Poor, gullible Ubbe.

"What happened?"

"The usual," Ivar started to explain as he forced himself to sit up. "Another broken bone."

"Mother says you also have a fever," Ubbe retorted as he took a seat at the end of the palette.

Ivar groaned. He hadn't estimated that his mother would be playing watchdog. "She got to you already?"

"She's worried about you."

"What else is new? She always worries about me," He grunted out as his leg twitched in pain.

"It's not just her this time. We all are concerned. You disappear at late hours and you're always tired. Even Hvitserk has noticed, and haven't you realized that Sigurd no longer says anything to you? For him, that's practically a defeat."

Come to think of it, Ivar couldn't recall the last verbal sparring match he'd shared with his third brother. Had his time with you sapped him of his usual energy?

"I need your help with something."

"Alright," Ubbe agreed with a nod of his head. "What is it?"

"When night falls, I need you to go down to the water. There's an abandoned dock if you follow the shoreline westward. Wait there and call for (Y/N), and tell her what has happened to me."

"Is she the woman who gave you that?" Ubbe asked while indicating to the bracelet on his wrist."

Ivar nodded as he began to twirl the thing around. It meant more to him than an arm ring. It was proof you had chosen him. "She's a daughter of Rán."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see for yourself when you meet her." He smiled something Ubbe couldn't understand.

"Feel better, brother," Ubbe said softly as he made his exit from the room.

Ivar could feel the headiness of the brew still working, as he was pulled into visions of you. Together you danced under the moonlight. He could recall the feeling of working legs even though he'd never had a pair before. You glided with him in his arms, but Ivar could not see if it was feet you stood upon or you had somehow managed to balance on the tip of your tail. The strangeness made him privy to the knowledge it was just a dream, but he allowed himself to be carried away in fantasy regardless.

Sometimes his mother would pop inside to have a check on him. Her long hands caressing his forehead and pushing back his hair made him feel like a boy again. The worry on her face had settled now that he was no longer writhing in pain. They only shared in a handful of words while the healer continued to tend to him. It was their special connection, a bond she did not have with his brothers.

When night came and darkness fell, Ivar sat himself up against the wall and waited for Ubbe to return with word of you. It was the first time in a long line of sneaking away that he didn't escape to go find you. A strange emptiness filled him at the thought, and he rubbed at his eyes to combat the sleep that threatened to take him. He couldn’t miss the update about you because he had fallen asleep.

A thin stream of silver light poked through a cut out in the roof of his room, and he imagined you in the water beneath the stars. He wondered what your reaction would be to learning of his injury. Concern he hoped, and not pity or regret for the night they had shared.

As Ivar's thoughts began to spiral out, he was relieved from further gloom when the door opened. Ubbe had returned, and he had on a perplexed frown that furrowed his brow.

"Well, did you speak with her?" Were the first words out of Ivar's mouth.

Ubbe shut the door behind him before coming further into the room. "I called for (Y/N) and waited on that pier, but no one ever came, Ivar."

He took a moment to juggle that information in his head while Ubbe looked on with worry. You never showed. Had something happened to you? Perhaps you were riddled with guilt about taking him in the water or you had seen Ubbe from a distance but did not approach. That had to be it. His brother was a stranger who did not hear your song as he had.

"I have to go there."

Ivar threw the furs off and started to twist to the side. His broken leg protested the rapid movement, and he grunted through his struggle. Ubbe was already at his side pushing him back. He latched onto his brother's arm and tried to shove him off, but even his upper strength had waned and he ended up flopping back down like a lifeless fish.

"You can't leave this room like that," Ubbe scolded. He took a seat down beside him, preventing him from trying something foolish again. "You'll end up losing that leg entirely."

"What's that matter? I'd be no worse off than I am right down."

Ubbe sighed. "I understand you care about this (Y/N), but I don't believe she would want to see you harm yourself this way."

Ivar knew you wouldn't. That's why he had to see you again and be surrounded by your love. "You could take me there."

"We'd never make it past the throne. Mother has seen fit to have eyes on who comes and leaves your room. I think she is looking for the woman to blame."

"(Y/N) won't come here," Ivar said and he could see the confusion on Ubbe's face, but he didn't elaborate. "I've probably lost her forever now."

"If she truly cares for you, she'll still be there," Ubbe argued, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "When you are well enough, I promise I'll help you back to the dock."

Ivar knew from past experiences that it would take many moons before he'd be fully healed. His eyes closed as angry tears threatened to fall. Why had the gods cursed him with these horrible limbs? The faults of his parents should not have fallen onto him. It was a cruel fate.

When he didn't continue to speak, Ubbe must have assumed he had fallen back asleep. He crept back to the door and exited the room as softly as a mouse scuttles through the kitchen.

Once he was alone, Ivar opened his eyes and took off the bracelet from around his wrist. He held it close to his lips, feeling the silk strands as he kissed the braided band. Maybe you could sense him reaching out. He decided to keep it enclosed in his hand and across his heart. If you were calling out, he would feel you in his sleep.

ooOOoo

In the many days that went by, Ivar became more frustrated with his leg. His broken bone was mending, but not fast enough that he was allowed out of the great hall. The slow progress had him taking out his anger on everyone, and they must have felt as trapped in with him as he was feeling about being locked up.

After a brief appearance to sit down to a meal with their mother, he had not seen his brothers again. This time he could admit he was to blame, and that they made the smart decision to cut and run back to the cabin. He had made the meal as uncomfortable as he could manage out of some need for vengeance. While they were free to run about Kattegat with their thralls, he was stuck in bed with wrinkled healers painting noxious salves on his body. He couldn’t be with you, so he chose to be spiteful.

Even his mother began to show signs of being fed up with him. Her smiles were now close-lipped, and she would linger by the door when she visited to make a hasty exit. He had yelled at her only once, and it had to do with her wanting to leave him just like everyone else. Ivar knew that wasn't true, and the moment she let out an anguished sob he had apologized.

Rather than continue to hurt those around him, he knew what he had to do. His leg was well enough that he could crawl again, and if he secured it tightly in his leather bindings it should protect the bone from any trauma as he moved. He had to get down to the pier himself and find you again. The call from the sea had him more desperate for water than a man dying of thirst. No thrall or guard would dare refuse him, and even his mother would not be able to stop him from going. He was doing this for her as well, even if she wouldn't see it that way. After causing her tears, he wouldn't be the reason for any more of her sorrow.

He needed the light to travel, so he began the trek from his room when the sun had only just begun to kiss the horizon. Much of the activity in the great hall had died down once the last meal had been served, and many of the thralls had already gone off to the barn. His mother was not on her throne. Ivar smirked at his good fortune and made for the doors as fast as he was able. Once he had them nudged shut behind him, he began his descent down the stairs. It was the most difficult part of the journey, guiding his body down feet first so his leg wouldn't bounce on every step down.

By the time he had cleared the treeline, the sun had set further and shadows were popping up in every corner. Ivar was more winded than he would normally be due to being bedridden, and he was mindful that he would have to work on building back the strength he had lost. But none of that mattered now. The dock was in sight. He had made it. He went together well with the solitude of the place, and when he sat perched on the end the creaking boards welcomed him home.

"(Y/N)," Ivar called out while searching for any ripple in the water. The surface remained still as glass, and he frowned while giving your name another shout.

Perhaps it was still too young in the day. He waited for the complete pitch of night to hit while letting his mind run wild with all the things he wanted to tell you about. It would be like a reunion of two lovers, and he couldn't fathom how one could be separated from their woman while gone on raids. Of course, his mother and father detested one another's presence, so it must have come as a balm to be away from one another.

The clouds parted from the moon, and one by one the stars surfaced in the sky. He called for you again, then held his breath to listen for any break in the water. Instead, he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him, and over his shoulder, he saw Ubbe approaching.

"I figured you would try coming back soon," Ubbe said once he stood at his side. "How's the leg?"

"Stiff," He replied tersely. "What do you want?"

Ubbe took an uninvited seat beside him which caused Ivar to shift over. There wasn't nearly enough room at the edge of the dock for both of them, and the wood groaned with the added weight.

"I never told you, but I've been coming back here every night after you sent me to search for (Y/N)."

Ivar frowned. "Why?"

"Because I saw how important it was to you to get that message to her, and I wanted to help. I might not be able to take away your pain, but I will still be your legs where I can."

Ivar looked at his lap as the heat built up in his face. He never knew how to take to his eldest brother's kindness. None of the rest of them had it, but from Bjorn's mouth, it was said that he inherited it from Ragnar.

"She never came back, did she?"

Ubbe shook his head. "She must only come for you."

"I don't think so," Ivar said as he looked out at the water. "It's been too long, and I've missed my chance. I don't think she'll come back."

"If she cares for you as you do her, I'm certain she'll be back."

Ubbe's words floated off him as he gazed down at the black water. He was struck with an irrational idea to force your hand if you were near. Before his brother could react, Ivar threw himself off the dock and into the water. It wasn't deep this close to shore, but it was enough that he began to sink. Ubbe was quick to follow, and Ivar tried in vain to bat away his saving hands. He was so desperate to have you come back that he would risk drowning. What a fool.

"Idiot," Ubbe cursed as he dragged them both up onto the sand. "What were you trying to do?"

Ivar turned his head away as he coughed up water. He felt embarrassed by what he'd just done and angry that it didn't earn him anything more than soaked clothes. "You wouldn't understand."

"I don't understand, and you won't help me to," Ubbe said, and his tone lightened from annoyance to mild irritation. "I need my little brother back. The one who's smarter than me at every turn, and doesn't make me fish him out of the sea."

Ivar started to laugh. It began in a quiet snicker and grew deep from his belly until Ubbe joined him. Neither of them knew what the humor was in the situation, but Ivar felt it was better to give in to the urge. He wanted to forget you weren't there, and giggling like a child with his brother in the sand was a good way to accomplish that.

"Should we head back?"

Ivar gave his leg a tug with his hand. "The bandage has soaked through and is starting to fall off. Guess I'd better have it looked at."

Ubbe crouched down beside him and indicated for him to climb up on his back. "C'mon, it'll be faster."

For once Ivar didn't argue. He couldn’t benefit from another disagreement, and he didn't want to be in wet clothes longer than he had to. Ubbe or Floki were the two he trusted most to support him. Hvitserk had dropped him one time, and he refused to let that happen twice. Sigurd never offered.

Once he was secured up to Ubbe's height, they started back home. He chanced one last look over his shoulder for as long as the water was in sight, clinging to the idea that you would spring up from the depths. The only movement out there came from the wind and the tide.

Neither brother spoke another word, but Ivar suspected Ubbe knew he had taken that last glance. How could he not? He wasn't ready to give up on you or accept the idea that you had abandoned him. Thoughts of you being in harm came to him, and he to banish those away because of the helpless feeling they gave him. You were a daughter of Rán, and the sea couldn't hurt you. Repeating it enough times had to make it true. As they journeyed through the night back to Kattegat, Ivar clung to the hope of seeing you again, and his thoughts warmed him up and dulled the pain until he found rest.

ooOOoo

Time passed by for Ivar and the pain in his legs dulled back into its usual ache. With his bone mended he could return to training with his brothers, and hunting up by the cabin. While his physical injury may have healed, it was not so for the throbbing in his heart. He had gone for sparse visits to the abandoned dock again, with each ending in the same sorrow until he had decided to give up going back. What's more, your bracelet that he had never let out of reach had vanished one day. Perhaps you had never been real, and he had dreamed you up.

What more could the gods take from him? First, it was his legs, then his father, and recently he was drifting from his brothers due to their infatuation with Margrethe. It was his mother he looked to as his constant, but she had grown distracted by visions. It was now common practice for her to disappear to her room after the last meal, when not so long ago she would be the last to leave with a chalice of wine. All of this left Ivar alone, and his thoughts had become unbearable. He needed something to dull the noise, a distraction.

More than anything Ivar longed to keep up with his brothers, and that's when he decided he wanted to fuck a woman. He approached Ubbe with the request to convince Margrethe. She had a pleasant face, and she didn't resemble you. If she had taken three of the other sons of Ragnar, he should be no different. Ubbe appeared torn when he first asked but did agree, and Margrethe was hardly in a position to refuse.

Now that the moment was approaching, and he was being brought over to the cabin by boat, he wondered if he would be the one to refuse. From what he'd always seen, men loved to hump a beautiful woman. It's what led to his parents' affair and marriage. So what was wrong with him that as he grew closer to the destination he felt ill? Ubbe certainly wasn't sharing the sentiment. He wore a dumb grin and was humming an old song to himself.

"You're happy I'm about to lay with your woman?" Ivar asked.

Ubbe laughed. "Margrethe isn't my woman, she's still a thrall. But I am happy because this is a good day for you, brother."

The day is still young, Ivar thought with a bitterness that was ingrained in his bones. Was sex such a powerful thing that it would shift who he became? Other than to have children, Ivar never dwelled on the matter. He'd never had a lover, and the closest he had come to obtain such a relationship was with you.

The boated jilted back and forth as it hit shallow water. Ubbe tied off by a tree before coming to fetch him. He was to be carried by his brother to his first tryst with a woman. Not nearly as humiliating as crawling he supposed, but the difference was negligible.

As they passed through the threshold of the abandoned cabin, Ivar stole a look around the place. It smelt like fire and driftwood, and there was a bed that had been piled thick with furs. The flame burning in the hearth let him know that Margrethe was already there.

Ubbe deposited him down on the bed and turned to get a look at him. "I'll leave now so you can be ready for her. Relax and enjoy yourself."

Ivar swallowed. That was easy for any of his brothers, they all had working parts. A handful of times he had felt his prick twitch and stiffen, but it was never a long event and he had never dared to try to take himself in hand. It was silly, but he was afraid of his cock.

He began to disrobe with haste, not wanting Margrethe to walk in on him without his trousers and his legs exposed. Once he was free of his garments he threw the heavy furs over himself and clutched them at his waist. All he could hear was his heart pounding, and he kept his chin tucked into his chest, straining to listen for the woman in the cabin.

She came to him from behind in light, cautious steps. Perhaps she was nervous, or his trepidations had seeped into the air and spoiled the mood. Ivar resisted the urge to peek until she stood at the side of the bed. When he glanced up he saw that she wore a fisherman's net as a veil. Her features were distorted, but he could make out the subtle difference that alluded to her being anyone other than Margrethe.

"(Y/N)?" He whispered and hoped.

You lifted back the thin mesh from your face, and you put on a dazzling smile. Ivar had never seen a better sight, not the first sacrifice of spring or the storms of Thor could hold a candle up to you. You donned a crisp white gown that was cinched at the waist with a strap of brown leather, and your hair was a wild tangle of waves. He had never seen you without your sodden tresses.

You took your first step to come closer, but you lost your balance and fell onto the bed in his awaiting arms. This was where you belonged.

"Shit," You cursed, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "I was supposed to be beautiful and graceful, but these legs are too light. If I run fast enough, I'm sure I could soar like a bird."

"You have legs?" Ivar exclaimed while pulling you onto the bed beside him with all of the strength he could summon. "Let me see."

You swung your legs across his lap, careful not to rest any weight on his thighs. He hitched the skirt of your dress up to your thighs, exposing the new flesh. His hands didn't know where to touch first. This must be the work of the gods. In place of your magnificent tail were two gorgeous limbs that he was happy to smooth his hands over. You wiggled your toes, content to observe Ivar as he studied you.

"How is this possible?"

"I told you my people can choose to abandon the sea. Now I'm a soft creature like you," You said while giving his arm a playful squeeze.

He caught your hands before you could pull away and placed a kiss on each of them. They no longer had the webbing or claws, but there was a strength to them that he could feel under your touch. "Where did you go? I tried so many times to find you, and I even sent my brother."

"You had your life up here, and I had mine below," You said as your eyes grew vacant. "When I did return to the surface, I could no longer find you. All of these things left unsaid caused us to miss each other."

"Then why are you here now, like this?"

You reached for his wrist, finding it bare. Ivar knew what you searched for. "You no longer have my precious gift. Did you think I turned treacherous?"

"I misplaced it. I would never have thrown it away, even if I thought you'd left me."

"I know," You said as you ran a hand down his bare chest and over his heart. "You were in more pain than I understood that night. The blue in your eyes."

Ivar tensed. "How did you learn about that?"

"Your mother told me."

"My mother…" Ivar knew his mouth was hanging open in question, and he snapped it shut to regain composure.

"She found your bracelet. It was her voice I could hear beckoning me to the land. She must be a powerful woman to do such a thing."

You didn't have any animosity in your voice, but Ivar couldn't help but feel angry for you. His mother had taken your life from the sea by force. He had considered the heinous deed himself for a time, but he would have never risked your resentment. What if that came to pass now that the unthinkable had happened?

Ivar couldn't keep himself from looking at you now. He wouldn't let you go a second time. "She said the sea will take me. Perhaps you are meant to stop that from happening."

"Or maybe I am the sea," You said, shifting your hips as you hovered over his lap. With a firm shove you had him down flat on the furs, and he nearly lost his air as your thighs squeezed at his waist. "Come to take you myself because I couldn't stand the thought of that Margrethe touching you."

And then Ivar realized...Ubbe had known he was taking him to you. You had been on land long enough to learn to walk and find out about his pathetic setup with the thrall. His face flushed and he turned his head to the side before feeling your fingers grasp his chin. You tilted his face back around, and he saw only tenderness.

"I know the weariness from being alone. My heart has been there as well."

"You'll stay?" Ivar knew he sounded a touch petulant, but he did not want to suffer another morning with you vanishing.

"Until the gods bring you home and the sea turns me to froth, I will remain by your side, Ivar Ragnarsson."

He didn't know who's lips touched first, but when your mouths connected, it was like being awash on the deck of a ship. You were a cool drink of water with the tang of salt, and Ivar threaded his hands through your hair. The more his hold tightened, the more it pulled him in like reeds in a marsh.

You withdrew slowly, and you held his gaze, even when he wanted to look away from the thrill of what you'd just done. With careful hands, you shed the veil from your head, and then the dress, all collecting into one pile on the floor with his garments. You were naked before him. All of your scales were gone in place of smooth flesh and pleasing curves. Ivar knew he was gaping at your breasts, how they rose and fell with each rapid breath you took. As you gave a coy grin, you peeled back one corner of the furs and slithered your way in beside him. You pressed up against his side, and his body went taut as you tangled your legs with his.

"Is this alright?" You asked while your toes brushed up and down his shin.

"Yes," He said as a puff of air escaped him.

It was stifling hot under the covers, and your hand seemed to sear his flesh as you dragged it up to his thigh. Your fingers just teased next to cock before brushing up his abdomen. Ivar shifted, his hand reaching yours to halt your motions.

Your eyes flashed to his, and you smiled with patience. "Tell me what you want."

"I…" He paused, unable to form the words, and he could feel himself losing his nerve. With a tighter grasp, he took control of your hand and brought it back down to his half-hard prick. "I just want you."

"You have me," You murmured back as your hand began to fondle his shaft. He continued to grow in your hand, and Ivar let his eyes roll back at the feeling of you working him. His cock had never been so stiff, and his free hand clutched at the furs as he tried to recognize everything he was feeling. Fluid was beginning to bead out at his tip, and he struggled to push you back.

"S-stop," He sputtered.

You pulled back with a shy expression, and you were breathing just as hard as he was. You enjoyed what you could do to him. "Are you alright?"

Ivar bobbed his head, not sure if he agreed or not with your question. "I was losing control too soon, and I haven't even touched you yet."

"Is that all?" You rolled yourself on top of him, pushing back the furs while the cold air of the room pebbled your nipples. Ivar looked up at you in awe. "Touch me then."

Your slick center was rubbing on the base of his shaft now pressed up against his stomach, and he could feel his hips give a few practiced ruts. He saw the flash of delight in your eyes, and you hummed out a moan that was as long as a horn that bellowed in war.

"I'm still adjusting to this new body," You panted. "I've never felt like this before."

Ivar felt a strong sense of pride for bringing you these new experiences along with him. Even though he lacked the skill, he had a newfound confidence that had him reaching for you. His hands felt rough and clumsy against your untouched skin, squeezing and pawing to see how much pressure to apply and where. Your breasts were soft and pliable while your backside was firm and rounded, and you leaned further into him as he grasped onto your cheeks. You placed a wet kiss in the hollow of his throat that had him moaning. He wondered if you could hear his heart racing.

"Please," He choked. "I need to feel you."

Your hand reached down between your bodies, and you pulled back to watch his face as you clutched his cock. Lining it up with your slippery center, you brought your cunt down to the hilt. Ivar was under no delusions that he would last long or immediately be worthy of infamy in bed like his brothers, but being surrounded by your wet heat, he thought he'd cum right then. As you sat up straight to readjust, he let out a gasp. You did too, only when his eyes cracked open to get a look at you, your eyes were shut and your face was screwed up in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" You whimpered, hands grabbing at his chest. It seemed everything about your human body was new.

"For human women, it does the first time." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you down onto the bed with himself still connected between your legs. It would be difficult for him to manage this way long, but it would be better for you this time. "I've got you."

Your eyes were blurry from unshed tears, but he could feel you relax in his arms as he began to set a slow pace. On the first withdrawal of his cock he could see a small amount of blood seep out which he regretted feeling thrilled about. You were his now, and he was yours.

The strength in your legs was unmatched, and as you grew more comfortable you squeezed at his waist with your knees. He knew his end was already in sight from the tightening in his balls and the burning in his gut. You had thrown your head back, hair tousled and mouth open to show your sharp teeth. It was the only telltale sign that you weren't a human, and he bought his lips down on yours to explore the fangs with his tongue. You teased back with little nips, and you gave a harsh tug on his hair that separated him from the sloppy kiss.

"Fuck," He breathed out, and his hips began to lose rhythm. "I can't go much longer."

You ran a hand meant to soothe down his back, but it only spurred him on. His hips snapped at a frenzied pace with his thighs smacking against yours. Nothing could stop him chasing the feeling of his release, and with a few more pumps he felt himself empty deep inside you with a profane groan. All of the strain he'd put on his arms to keep from balancing on his legs gave out, and he collapsed on top of you. Your hot skin stuck to his, and he could feel you twitch beneath him.

"Sorry," He whispered embarrassedly. He rolled off of you and his cock made a wet pop as it slipped out from your folds. "You didn't get to finish."

You rolled onto your side to look at him, still breathing fast and on the precipice of your release. "Forget that. This was about you getting to enjoy me tonight."

Ivar shook his head as he turned into you. "But I want you to enjoy me as well."

His hand dove for your core, chubby fingers fumbling around in your wet pussy that was now a mix of your blood and his cum. This was the first time he had felt a woman's warmth, and he watched your reaction as he felt around your lips and the tiny bud at the top. When he stroked over it with his thumb your legs jerked and you whined. He continued to swirl his digit around the nub while experimenting with varying degrees of pressure. You were now experiencing his love for you, and he could read what you enjoyed most with how expressive you were with your body. He settled into a comfortable pattern, and your hand shot down to join his when he hit a perfect cadence.

"Yes...there," You cried.

Ivar plunged his longest finger into your depths as you began to wither and shake. He could feel your pussy clamp down on him as you came, and he knew he wanted to feel that on his cock next time. Your eyes blinked rapidly as you started to calm, and he withdrew his hand, only to bring it to his mouth for a taste. You watched him in rapt attention.

"A warrior tastes the blood of his enemies in battle, so should he not also taste his lover's in bed?"

You brought your hands back together with his and pulled yourself against his chest. "If the gods willed it, then let it be so."

You laid in silence together, and Ivar felt your little puffs of air even out as you fell asleep. He pulled a fur over the both of you, the fire had long gone low and the night air colder. Indeed the gods must have willed it. Ivar now knew he was favored by the gods above all other sons of Ragnar. You were a daughter of Rán, and you had chosen him. His mother knew it as well, or else she wouldn't have summoned you back into his arms. In his heart, he had already forgiven her for taking the bracelet.

The sea had come to take him, and he had gone willingly into the mouth of the current. It was comfortable there, like a never-ending waterfall over rocks beating him down onto your altar. You opened it up and took him in, and now you were both drenched.

The cabin grew cold and black, and Ivar went to sleep beside you that night with the comfort that the stars still shined overhead, and that when dawn came he would not have to face another day without you.

Taglist

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[woahsehun]

♡ boyfriend jaemin ♡

what I think jaemin might be like as a boyfriend

•*´¨`*•.��¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.••*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´

disclaimer: obviously I don’t know jaemin lmao this is just for fun and if you disagree feel free to politely disagree elsewhere ♡ but I mean comment if you want idc just pls don’t be mean to me I’ll cry

I also tried to keep it gender neutral but I am new to writing these types of scenarios and stuff so if you notice anything that I should change feel free to let me know :)

now back to our regularly scheduled programming

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• house husband boyfriend #1

• if he wakes up before you… would probably drink a cup of coffee before you get up, but would then make himself another with yours so you could drink them together (or if you drink tea same situation different beverage)

• is a big fan of waiting to do things in order to do them together

• another example would be: I think even if he was super hungry he would often hold off on eating dinner until you got home/to wherever he is so he can eat with you, because he doesn’t like the thought of you having to eat alone and always prefers your company anyways :’)

• y’all know that clip of him hugging jaehyun? yeah. would do that a lot, but not just a back hug, like the full on pajamas-morning breath-messy hair-half open eyes vibe. has his face against your shoulder so he can take a deep breath in to let the smell of your hair and clothes comfort him

• taking a quick break because I’m making myself go insane I think

• anyways

• takes pictures of you whether you’re aware or not (but not in like, a creepy way idk). will also force you to let him take pictures of you like that one video of him dragging haechan by the jacket so he could take pictures of him yeah that. hey, it’s not his fault you’re breathtaking

• of course he likes taking the aesthetic candid pictures of you, but his guilty pleasure? taking absolutely wack pictures of you eating and sleeping. hilarious. cute. lockscreen material in his eyes

• expect your cheeks to be squeezed. ya got cheeks? congrats! you get a squeeze. or maybe even a squish who knows. you do something remotely cute jaemin is all over it “ooohhhhwowowo my baby so cute” while you’re just cheeks compressed like (〃￣ω￣〃)

• may tease and nag but it’s out of love ahdhba

• would be a really good person to talk to about your mistakes/worrys or make mistakes around, because I think unless it’s something serious he would be great at calming you down and assuring you that everything is okay. seems like a big fan of “keep moving forward” and thinks sweating the small stuff is a waste of time almost

• maybe I think that because of his not-so-competitive nature most of the time but either way

• I feel like (if you had a day type job or were in college) he would enjoy seeing you off to work or classes if he has time. has your bag and/or drink ready and held out for you as you’re on your way out the door, but he wouldn’t let go of them without a goodbye kiss of course

• yeah I’m going insane again brb

• really appreciates anything you do for him whether it’s getting him coffee unexpectedly, visiting him at work (and if he’s having a hard time it just lifts him right up), rubbing his shoulders after a long practice, or even just the way you look at him is enough to satisfy his happiness quota for life

• because of this, like I mentioned before, he would try and do small things for you too. would wash your dishes or put away leftovers if you forget, would put your shoes by the door if you happen to kick them off elsewhere, sends you goodnight and good morning texts if you’re not together

• probably wouldn’t have much time to visit you at work or school, but would always try and call or text you during your break

• obviously just really affectionate and caring I mean we know this about him but I’m reminding us

• might pout it you reject his affection, but also kinda understands if you need space (even if he wants to hug you tighter than some skinny jeans)

• other than that I don’t feel like he pouts much I mean he trusts you and respects your thoughts and opinions idk what else to say about it

• probably admires you for your similarities and differences.

• I don’t even think it would depend on if you’re a hard worker or successful compared to others he just thinks you’re inspiring to him in your own right. I know people say he’s a member that definitely admires strong women, ya know based on his music tastes, and I for sure agree, but I also think no matter your gender identity he would just be in awe at your inner strength and it would help drive him in other things he does :)

• hello I’m back bc I had more thoughts so am making some edits lmaooo

• the type to make you lunch and leave little notes in it like “I love youuu”, “you mean the world to me”, “have a great day!”, “ooooh sexy”

• takes care of you really well even when you don’t ask for it like makes sure you eat enough and drink enough water, get enough sleep, take care of your mental health etc.

• which I also feel like means he can be stern sometimes, but it’s just because he really cares and doesn’t know what he would do if something happened to you

• that’s where the nagging comes in a bit like if you got sick “”tch tch tch* see this is why I told you you have to drink more water” as he absolutely babies the hell out of you

• if you’re laying on the couch or smth he’d probably just lay his whole body over you limp like a blanket until you tap out from being SQUISHED

• alright I think I’m really done for now so if I think of anything else maybe I’ll just make a part two

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♡ I feel like this was kinda short but that’s all I have for now so thanks to anyone who read this I guess, and I hope everyone has a great day/night! ♡

(✿◕ ‿◕ฺ)ノ``` bye bye ```

[ayanna-wild]

Broken Wings

Word Count: 2921

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt, comfort

A/N: Request from Wattpad, for the sake of this story Lucifer and the reader will not be related, set somewhere between s1 and s2, and I have nothing against Amenadiel, but he was kind of a dick during s1 lol

Requests and Tag List are open

Summary: It was a simple matter of loving the wrong man, but you couldn’t control your heart. How was it fair for you to be punished? But life was cruel that way.

.................................................................................

You weren't an angel per-say. You had the wings, the immortality, yet you lacked the power that came with being a true angel. To be blunt you were a side project God had taken up before abandoning it to create humanity, more a helper to his children than anything.

The only of your kind.

With little other purpose you dutifully fulfilled your role as the aid, accompying the true angels to earth. A mundane existence, but one you tolerated.

Until Lucifer had taken an interest in you, life was so much better after that. So full of fun and laughter, he called for your help more than any of his brethren or sisters. Although he never really needed any assistance, it was all an excuse to steal you away for a while.

For centuries that was your life, and you were content with it if it meant spending more time with him. You two grew impossibly close and thought you'd be with him until the stars in the sky fizzled out.

But that was before, before the rebellion, before his banishment, before your existence dulled so drastically. Spending centuries, millenniums feeling as though you were missing out on something better.

Which is why you had so graciously agreed to accompany Amenadiel to earth. So he could once again fail at convincing his brother to return to hell. You masked your excitement surprisingly well, or Amenadiel was just incredibly oblivious. Either way you weren't complaining.

~

"You seem happy..."

Your wings fluttered a bit, unable to contain the smile on your face as you glanced at the dark skinned angel.

"Well it's nice to get out of heaven once and a while, you know?"

That was only partially a lie, you really did enjoy earth much more, but truthfully you were excited about seeing Lucifer after so long.

"No. Heaven is perfect. " Amenadiel stated bluntly.

You watched him walk inside from the balcony, hanging back a moment to mutter to yourself.

"For you maybe..."

Your wings folded into your back as you walked in, not the least bit surprised to see the brothers at each other's throats already.

"Such hostility from such divine beings."

Your sarcastic remark quickly drew the attention of the king of hell, who turned to you with a grin so wide you wondered if it hurt his face.

"Oh brother, you failed to mention you brought along this beautiful little creature. Y/N, it's an absolute pleasure to see you again."

Lucifer approached you with open arms, your smile matching his as he embraced you.

"It is her role to assist us." Amenadiel said as if that was the obvious answer.

Lucifer pulled away from you, noticing the way your shoulders sagged a bit at the elder angels words. The devil frowned a bit.

"Role? Are you still listening to such nonsense?" Lucifer scoffed.

Amenadiel rolled his shoulders, flexing his wings a little in irritation.

"It is our father's will. You should be following your role as well."

Lucifer clicked his tongue, strolling over to his bar.

"It became rather dull, so many years doing the same thing, a drab existence, isn't it angel?"

The ending was directed towards you, and you almost forgot yourself, almost allowed yourself to agree, in front of Amenadiel. It was a nickname he had given you centuries ago. His own way of telling you he saw you as his equal, unlike the others.

You were his angel.

"She's not a real angel Lucifer, don't try to fill her head with your rebellious nonsense."

His words stung a bit, but he wasn't entirely wrong, you weren't a true angel. That bit of fact didn't seem to lessen the blow to your pride though.

"With such exquisite wings as hers, who could tell the difference?" Lucifer winked at you.

You straightened your back, feeling proud of yourself, your wings always were your favorite feature. You took immaculate care of them. Just as quickly as Amenadiel tore you down Lucifer built you back, you supposed that was one of the things that had drawn you to him all those years ago.

"You're a disgrace."

You stepped between them, placing a hand on Lucifer's chest.

"Maybe I can talk to him? He was always at least willing to listen to me." You offered.

Amenadiel seemed to ponder this a moment before nodding.

"I'll return tomorrow, don't let him pull you into any of his schemes."

Lucifer scoffed at his brother's warning. You smiled softly.

"Of course."

With a flutter of wings he was gone, and you were left alone with the fallen angel. Without a moment to appreciate the silence, a cup of amber liquid was held in front of your face.

"Fancy a drink my dear? We have so much to catch up on."

~

You weren't sure how it happened, maybe it was the drinks, or the way he spoke to you, but you found yourself stumbling out of his bed the next morning. Panic surged through your veins as you hastily pulled your clothes back on, cursing softly. You regretted nothing, but there'd be hell to pay if any of the heavenly host caught you bedding the devil. Lucifer still slept soundly, and you tried your best not to wake him.

You rushed from his room, running straight into a broad chest causing you to stumble back a bit. Amenadiel stared at you with an uncomfortably blank expression, and your heart dropped.

"Amenadiel... I-"

Your world became a blur in the next second, and you fell forward as your feet unexpectedly hit the roof of a hotel.

"What were you thinking! Fornicating with Lucifer!"

You glanced up at him, snorting at his wording.

"Fornicating? For someone who comes to earth so frequently, your vocabulary is a little dated."

You couldn't help the poorly timed jab, humor your way if deflecting tense situations. Unfortunately for you that only seemed to make Amenadiel more angry.

"Have you no shame? You don't seem the least bit remorseful for the sin you just committed!" He shouted.

You flinched a little, sitting back on your ass as you stared up at him. Should you grovel? Beg for forgiveness?

That would be the logical thing to do, it was what he was expecting. But perhaps your short reunion with Lucifer had sparked something in you because you found yourself leaning back on your hands, staring up at the angel before you with no remorse.

"I regret nothing."

~

Blood soaked your once white shirt as you leaned against an alley wall, shifting most of your weight onto your side. Anything to avoid the crippling pain in your back. Tears stained your cheeks and burnt your eyes. Dry sobs shook your body, no tears left to cry.

He'd ripped your wings from your back, tore them from your body, taking your immortality with him. You barely registered the sound of footsteps, hardly heard the woman talking to you in concern. You just felt so tired, a feeling you weren't used to.

It'd be okay if you slept, just for a moment, right?

Chloe panicked as she saw your eyes close, waving frantically as the paramedics arrived just moments later. Her hands covered in your blood as she wondered who could have possibly done that to you.

~

You woke to steady beeping, and an uncomfortable feeling of something wrapped just a little too tight around you. Bright lights forced you to close your eyes almost as soon as you opened them. You took a moment to adjust as you sat up, looking around the unfamiliar room that you slowly realized was a hospital room.

It all seemed so... human.

The reality of your sudden mortality crashed down on you, and you carefully pulled the I.V. from your arm. You hissed as you quickly stood from the bed, the sudden movement causing pain to shot up your back.

You nearly collapsed.

But no, you had to leave, get out of this place before questions you couldn't possibly answer came. You gathered your ruined clothes, fleeing before anyone could notice.

You kept your head low as you left the building, the bandages on your back straining against your hasty movements.

"Hey!"

A voice called out, catching your attention and a blonde woman hurried over to you. You stared at her in confusion, and she looked you over with concern.

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't leave the hospital yet."

It suddenly clicked and your body tensed as you vaguely recognized her as the woman who found you.

"I'll be fine."

She looked ready to protest, and you grabbed her hands in desperation.

"Please... I just can't be there..."

She seemed to relent a little, and you breathed a sigh of relief until she told you her name. Then you found yourself begging her not to tell Lucifer anything, and she promised not to utter a word, if you told her what happened to you.

It had to have been the greatest lie you ever told, a fabricated story about a scorned lover. She believed it nonetheless, offering to help you get a change of clothes. Something less covered in blood, you went straight to Lucifer afterwards, carefully hiding what had happened.

Perhaps he trusted you too much, or maybe you were getting better at lying because he didn't question your claim to want to stay on Earth. He seemed thrilled, and you hid your pain with a smile when he embraced you, thankful your new jacket hid the bandages.

~

For months that was the routine, a difficult dance to move to, especially with how close you two were becoming once more. But you'd stop his hands before they could trail up your back in your more heated moments, directed his attention to something else. You were so careful not to let him see your back.

Careful to never let him follow you into the shower. Careful never to sleep on your side, or let him give you a back rub. Always avoiding Chloe, lest she bring up your injuries. You were so careful, for months.

So why had you forgotten to lock the door while you were getting dressed?

"Should we order out again darling? Perhaps from that little coffee shop you so like much? I heard they have a new..."

Lucifer had barged into the bathroom, clad in only his underwear and robe loosely tied as he questioned what you wanted for breakfast. Your whole body froze, mind shutting down as his words came to an abrupt stop. The atmosphere of the room suddenly felt thick, and you could have sworn it became harder to breath.

Lucifer said nothing, staring at your horribly scared back. You held your shirt to your chest, refusing to turn and meet his eye. Worried what emotion you might find. He had moved so quietly, and so quickly that you jumped when his fingers were suddenly grazing your back. Just below the rough skin where your beautiful wings had once been.

"Who did this to you..."

It was more of a soft demand then a question, but you hesitated.

"I... I cut them off..."

He chuckled a dry, humorless chuckle, and he draped his robe over your shoulders. Probably realizing you'd be more comfortable if you could cover your scars. You muttered a thank you and his hands rested on your arms, rubbing soothingly up and down as you grabbed the silk robe, holding it tighter around you.

"Those aren't the scars you get from cutting your wings, I would know. No, those are harsh, angry scars, something tearing wings off would cause. Don't lie to me angel, who did this?"

His grip tightened on your arms ever so slightly, but it wasn’t out of anger, at least not towards you.

"Amenadiel..." Your voice was so faint you barely heard yourself, but judging by the sharp intake of breath, he had heard you just fine.

"What?"

"A punishment... for being with you..."

You caught his reflection in the mirror, the flash of his eyes, his face shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough for you to realize just how angry he truly was.

"Lucifer-"

He turned on his heel, leaving the room and getting dressed in a fury. You approached him cautiously, closing the robe around you and tying it into place.

"What are you doing?"

He finished buttoning his shirt before turning back to you.

"I need you to do me a favor my dear."

A frown pulled at your lips, but you slowly nodded.

"Pray to my brother."

You jerked back as if someone had physically slapped you.

"What?"

"You trust me, don't you?" He smiled, but there was something in his eyes, something that unnerved you.

"Of course."

He seemed so calm, contrary to what he had been just moments ago.

"Then pray to my brother."

He guided you into the living room and stepped just out of sight. You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before finally doing as he asked. It only took moments before Amenadiel appeared in front of you.

He'd come so fast, probably expecting you to beg for forgiveness.

You had no idea how vastly unprepared you were to see him again. Your hands trembled, and you held the robe closer around you, taking an unsure step back.

You didn't have time to dwell on it and Amenadiel had no time to say anything before a sickening crack filled the room and the angel was sprawled out on the ground.

"Hello brother."

You blinked slowly, taking a second to catch up with the fact that Lucifer had just delivered a crippling blow to his brother's face and Amenadiel laid dazed on the ground. Blindsided by the unexpected blow. Lucifer gave him no time to recover, picking him up by his neck carelessly throwing him into a wall. You shielded your eyes from the debris flying by.

"I've just had the unpleasant surprise of discovering what you did to my darling little slice of heaven."

You wordlessly watched Amenadiel pull himself out of the now prominent hole in Lucifer's stone wall. He was unsteady on his feet, but that mattered very little to Lucifer who swiftly grabbed his brother's shirt, tossing him across the floor as if he weighed nothing.

"And they call me the devil." Lucifer scoffed.

Amenadiel managed to at least prop himself up with his arms, spitting out a bit of blood.

"You are the devil, Lucifer, and she betrayed heaven by being with you."

Lucifer took a step forward, clearly ready to continue the one-sided fight. But you quickly stepped in front of him, worried he might go to far, if his red eyes were anything to go off of.

"Just let him leave, you made your point. You're flogging a dead horse at this point." You uttered, refusing to glance at the angel pulling himself off the ground.

"She received a punishment fitting her sin and she still crawled back to you."

Your skin bristled at his comment, and you found your unease fading away to anger. You rounded on him so fast you surprised even yourself at the words spilling from your lips.

"My sin!? You think you're a saint, but you're no better than me! It wasn’t sin Amenadiel, it was free will, if humans can have it why can't I?"

Amenadiel narrowed his eyes as he stood, but you didn't back down.

"You sound just like Lucifer."

You found yourself laughing at that, and with a sudden burst of confidence you shoved his chest back a bit. His beating from Lucifer making it slightly easier to do so. Speaking of the devil, he watched you unleash your anger, gazing at you with amusement and satisfaction.

"Good! You know what, I should have sided with him during that rebellion! Because he seemed to have the right idea! Heaven might have been perfect for you, but it was hell to me! I was beneath all of you, an errand girl for you to degrade, treat like shit!"

Lucifer pulled you back a little when he saw the anger in his brother's eyes. You were mortal now after all. You let out a cruel laugh, though there were tears in your eyes.

"Do you want to know the best part it all?"

Your laughter died down, and you gave him a cynical smile.

"I don't owe the Silver City a goddamn thing anymore, you think you were punishing me? You freed me, you and all your kind can go to hell, because if anyone belongs there it certainly isn't Lucifer."

Amenadiel opened his mouth to say something, taking what he probably assumed was a menacing step towards. But Lucifer rested his hands on your shoulders, daring his kin to try something. You didn't seem fazed though.

"Run back home and lick your wounds like the obedient lapdog you are. I'm not wasting any more words on you."

Amenadiel clenched his fists in repressed rage, but said nothing, not in any condition to fight his brother. He was gone in a blink, and you felt all the energy drain out of you. Lucifer caught you as your legs gave out, and he smiled proudly at you.

"You were marvelous love, I'd nearly forgotten how sharp your tongue can be."

You laughed breathlessly, and he brushed your hair away from your eyes.

"How do you feel?"

You smiled up at him, the heavy feeling finally lifting from your shoulders.

"Free."

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