#two catty bastards in love

[avernusreject]

My headcanon is that while the party travels Astarion and Tav, when they're in a romance, spend their time snarking about the party and the different quests like the old muppets in the box

[youngpettyqueen]

Third Doctor and Brigadier are literally married like what else am I supposed to think after every single interaction they have

[moongreenlight]

I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.

Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻

ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.

Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.

If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.

He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.

It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.

He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.

So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.

And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.

The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.

You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.

He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.

He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.

Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.

He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.

The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.

Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.

But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.

He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.

Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.

Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.

It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.

Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.

And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.

Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.

Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.

He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.

The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.

But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.

“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”

Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.

“‘Course.”

Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.

Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.

“How long you been keepin’ this in?”

“Which bit.”

His response was flat.

“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”

Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.

“Don’t push it.”

Simon bit back.

“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”

“Johnny.”

“Looks ready’ta pop.”

A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.

“Few months.”

They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.

“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”

He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.

“Hope not.”

Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.

“Boy o’ girl?”

This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.

“Girls.”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

If Yves is willing to just be a friend (and a monster in law by extension) what opinion would he has on your others oc

Part 1/???

part 2

Tw: yves being really condescending and subtly bringing down monty, catty Yves

He thinks Montgomery incapable of taking care of you, Yves is coming over every other day to do the chores and meal prep. He would also prepare containers of healthy, nutritious food for Montgomery, but obviously, your husband is suspicious of it and refuses to eat. Monty wouldn't let you eat it either, fearing that Yves might have poisoned it. In actuality, he didn't. He's just acting nice to stress Montgomery and make him look like a crazy, jealous guy to you.

Yves would have some private talks with him, always about better ways to take care of you. Berating Montgomery for being neglectful for not being two minutes away from you at any given time, unobservant for not knowing how many times you blink in a minute when you're relaxed versus when you're tensed, inept for not doing the house chores good enough to meet Yves's insane standards.

Not to say all Yves does is bash Montgomery. He would praise him if he improved in some aspects (eg., noticing how many times you used the bathroom in a day, Yves would quiz him on that.), albeit condescending or backhanded. But Yves appreciates genuine effort being put into ensuring you're taken care of.

However, after that, he would go on to say that Montgomery could really use some moisturizer on his face and especially hands. Despite having nasty scars himself, Yves would insinuate Montgomery's facial scars are so hideous, that he should consider cosmetic surgery. He offered to pay for it because a friend of his darling, is a "friend" of Yves.

You better hope Montgomery wouldn't explode for his sake, Yves would try to paint him as an unreasonable and mentally unstable man that you shouldn't be associating with (if you're still not that deep in love with him), or should be drugged to be kept pliant (if your love for Montgomery is unwavering).

Yves is extremely shady, he watches your every move and now, Montgomery's every move. He does as much research on your husband as he does on you, just so he could effectively predict him all the time and take the spotlight.

Montgomery is going to buy you a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates on Valentine's day. So Yves decided that 14th of February is the perfect day to invite you and him over to his house, for Yves's birthday dinner. You will be gifted an exquisite gift hamper with all your favourite things and favourite brands, including roses and chocolates.

Montgomery wanted to surprise you with your favourite drink after work. He made the effort to queue up, pay for a ridiculously overpriced beverage and drive back home without spilling it in his cup holder, only to find out Yves has taken you out to that same shop to give you your fix.

Montgomery saved up enough to buy you that brand new phone. Only to come home empty handed because it was sold out everywhere. Yves conveniently managed to snag the last two units for you and Montgomery. The latter knew that rich bastard must have pre-ordered it.

Your husband made the right call opting to use his older phone instead, or else Yves would have gotten access to all his chat logs, call records and any other digital information on Montgomery. Well, it's not like Yves needed him to use the tampered phone anyways, he already has his means to find all of that out.

Montgomery made a reservation at a fancy restaurant for a date night? Aw, how sweet of him. Such a shame that the system mysteriously lost his records and it's now fully booked out. Your husband was about to get physical with the server for telling him that he didn't make that call, when in fact he did.

Surprise, surprise. Yves showed up to calm the situation down.

Yves coincidentally made a reservation for three so he could meet his associates due to work related reasons. Sadly, something came up for both of them, they couldn't make it. You and Montgomery wouldn't want that reservation to go to waste, would you? You've been dying to try the food at this place.

Montgomery would shoot him a nasty look while Yves would only smile at him ominously.

Your husband tried giving you allowance? It pales in comparison to Yves's monthly $10k deposits into your bank account. You're the breadwinner in this relationship and the cash isn't even from your job.

But he isn't a menace to Montgomery all the time. Yves does throw a bone for him occasionally.

Perhaps he's feeling extra insecure and down about himself for being this imperfect, ugly nobody compared to Yves. There is no use trying to hide his inferiority to Yves, he can smell the fragility in him.

So he would state nothing but facts. You chose Montgomery over Yves. That definitely says something about his immense worth to you despite not being notable compared to the dark haired male. If you really thought very little about Montgomery, you would already be calling Yves your husband instead.

Of course, this would give him an ego boost. Feeling proud that he still won, since you're his partner.

Yves wouldn't allow him to be too cocky, though. So he brought Montgomery back down to earth by telling him he should do something about his body odor.

Maybe he's getting bullied in his workplace, a country bumpkin with no friends nor family aside from you in the city would paint a massive target on his back.

Yves would pull some strings to stop the demeaning comments and pranks happening to Montgomery. Hell, he might even get a raise out of the blue. He would now work in peace and be a lot more chipper before heading to the construction site.

Sometimes, he would be too caught up with work to remember your anniversary. Montgomery would have nothing planned and he would panic, spiraling out of control. He fully planned to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but he would be met with your happy face instead. You would thank Montgomery for the lovely gift he allegedly prepared for you.

He would hold you in his arms, confused. When did he get you a luxury watch? He hasn't saved up enough yet to get anything close to this, but it is something Montgomery would have gotten you. Did the dust and toxic fumes from working on the field all day finally condemned his brain?

Only when he took a look at his text messages did he understand.

A text from Yves reads:

"Your smartphone has a feature that reminds you of important dates. Use it."

Montgomery would be grateful, even contemplating paying Yves back. But he decided to keep the money because his monster-in-law became ten times more insufferable than usual, rubbing it in Montgomery's face that he, a third person not (legally) included in the marriage, remembered the anniversary date.

Your husband could be having a stomach ache one day and thought nothing of it. Since it came as quickly as it left, it must be insignificant, so he didn't do anything nor did he tell you.

You could only imagine the surprise when Yves, two days later, marched up to him while he was on his break, and demanded that he head to the hospital. Of course, Montgomery would refuse and think Yves was up to something.

But Yves immediately shuts him up by showing him results of Montgomery's blood and stool sample. He had a viral infection that could have been devastating to his life if it wasn't treated promptly.

He was stunned, frozen on the spot, wracking his brain for how Yves could have possibly obtained these samples when Montgomery wasn't even remotely close to a medical center. The long haired male seized the chance to lead your husband into his car, zooming straight to the emergency department.

As expected, Montgomery would freak out in the car upon realizing what the report implies, he knows Yves is stalking you and him, but he didn't know it was to this extent. How, when, why and where did he snatch a vial of his blood and faeces? The results showed that the samples were taken on the same day he felt that strange pain in his abdomen.

Your "best friend" is fucking insane!

Before Montgomery could strangle Yves out of impulse, he stabbed a syringe filled with a strong sedative onto his neck, knocking him out immediately. It's amazing how he could do that while driving flawlessly.

Montgomery would wake up to see you by his side, holding his hand with a worried look. He smiles and beckons you closer for a kiss. He felt relief from having you here, in the cold and clinical setting of his hospital room.

But that bliss was instantly washed away when Yves walked into the room with a clipboard and his hair tied up with a stethoscope around his neck.

The heart monitor immediately began beeping frantically as Montgomery hyperventilates at the sight of that psychopath pretending to be his doctor.

But Yves is his doctor, you assured him that your good friend is the best one there is. He seems to always know what is happening and Yves has treated you back to health many times.

Montgomery tried to rip out the wires and the IV drip connecting to his cannula, but Yves just sternly called his name. He gave the man a look of warning, which intimidated Montgomery enough to settle down.

Yves explained everything to you, exaggerating his symptoms and telling a lie: Montgomery didn't want to worry you, so he sought medical help in secret. Yves happened to hear about this and decided to take over.

You didn't question the ethics or legality of his story. You would want your beloved husband to be taken care of by someone you wholeheartedly trust.

You hugged Yves out of gratitude. He smiled and savoured what little physical contact he gets with you.

Montgomery was silent the entire time as Yves's discrete, bruising, claw-like grip on his shin sent a loud message that he should play along if he wanted to live.

You then watched Yves listen for any other unusual activity in Montgomery's abdomen using a stethoscope. Your husband is clearly uncomfortable, due to the freezing metal touching his bare skin and his arch nemesis is invading his... everything at this point.

Finding the process boring, you told the men that you will be grabbing something from the vending machine for the three of you.

Yves told you Montgomery's current food restrictions before letting you go. He thanks you for thinking about him too.

Your husband didn't want to be alone with this... demon, he tried grabbing you by the arm. But Yves only dug his nails deeper into his flesh, making him wince in pain.

Once you leave the room, the area suddenly feels so cold. So eerie.

Yves dropped his warm smile and stared at Montgomery blankly.

"W-what the fuck are you?!" Montgomery felt genuine fear rattling his bones.

Yves sat on the freshly unoccupied chair. He crossed his legs and set the clipboard on his lap.

"You stole my beloved away from me." He narrowed his eyes at Montgomery. "But..."

The dark haired man sighed in defeat. "You make them happy."

Your husband cautiously watched him, noticing that Yves's lower eyelid twitched a few times.

"I appreciate the effort you put into loving them. It is a very respectable trait among... your other ones."

There was a beat of silence before Montgomery opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Yves again.

"I care about you, Yeller." Yves's emerald eyes stared straight into Montgomery's brown ones, but there wasn't a hint of fondness directed towards him.

"...and I have my ways of ensuring their safety and yours." He stood up, now towering over him and casting a menacing shadow over Montgomery's vulnerable self.

"Not everyone agrees with my methods. Certainly not you, certainly not (name)."

Montgomery watched him with eyes wide as saucers.

"I trust that you understand not to say a word to them about it." His words were laced with a potent poison, it sent the worst shivers down Montgomery's spine.

"You're fuckin' crazy!" Exclaimed your husband. Yves didn't appreciate the comment as he brought his manicured fingers to the IV tubing, making sure that his rival felt the threat.

"I know what hurts you, Yeller. Don't test my patience."

He could tell that Yves was using those words as a euphemism for death.

Montgomery sealed his lips and Yves's hand returned to his side.

The two men watched each other like hawks, neither of them moving a muscle. One is definitely much more anxious than the other.

In the end, Yves took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You stupid boy. If it wasn't for your excessive drinking..." Yves trailed off, seemingly complaining to no one in particular. Montgomery doesn't know if he is having a headache over his infection or the fact that he's married to you.

"They could have chosen a better man, at least someone who takes care of himself, is in a prestigious line of work and has some common sense. But... they chose you." He crossed his arms and glared at Montgomery.

"Congratulations." Yves continued bitterly. "They chose you, and you are nothing like me." He spat harshly, turning his back to Montgomery, and sighing frustratedly before burying his face in a hand.

"You are nothing like me..." He repeated softly, his voice was wavering and cracked. A strong sense of melancholy could be felt in the air.

Montgomery turned his attention to the door, wondering what is taking you so long. He fears that Yves would eventually kill him and make it seem like he died due to natural causes.

Yves wiped a stray tear away before turning around to face Montgomery again.

"You are such a disgrace." He whispered. "Yet, they still chose you."

Montgomery opened his mouth to say something, but was again, interrupted by your arrival.

Like a switch being flipped, Yves donned a charming, motherly smile as you offered him a salad bowl you got from the vending machine. He now exudes a caring and inviting vibe that was a complete 180⁰ from what your husband witnessed.

"Why, thank you, my dear." Yves would give you a totally platonic peck on the head.

You froze and looked at Montgomery. He would usually lose his temper over touches like these, you wouldn't want him to start a fight with his doctor.

But instead,

"Thanks, sweetheart." He took the fresh apple meant for him, out of your hands. Montgomery kissed you on the cheek before smoothing your hair with a large hand. He appeared not to care about what Yves did, which made you release a breath of relief. Perhaps they talked their feelings out and built some trust between each other?

Yves excused himself, saying he has somewhere to be. He opened his arms, wanting a hug from you. You gladly comply seeing Montgomery nodded in agreement.

He held you tight for a few seconds before reluctantly letting you go. Yves bid you and Montgomery goodbye before leaving the room.

You didn't catch the scowl directed towards the short haired man.

You climbed onto his hospital bed and snuggled under your husband's arm, resting your head on his chest.

Montgomery pressed a couple of kisses onto the crown of it while absentmindedly rubbing your back up and down.

There are a lot of things for him to process today. He's just glad that you're here to ease the pain

[angel-of-the-moons]

Blood Moon

Marc Spector/Moon Knight (Vengeance of Venom) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of child death, trauma related to that, some coping, Marc being an emotionally constipated idiot as usual; Also you can't convince me that after the symbiote invasion, Marc and May Parker didn't become like, catty bff's

A/N: After a million years, I have returned to this particular incarnation of Moon Knight! I've been trying to consume various forms of media to help get me in the zone for him, and yes that includes watching the only two episodes in that Spider-Man cartoon he's actually in on repeat...

Taglist: @badbishsblog @patchesofwork

Divider done by the ever so lovely @/saradika-graphics!

PT. 6

It had been a few days since you and Marc had discussed his past.

And you were... angry for him. What had happened to your family was bad, but it wasn't as bad as Marc coming home to his dead child.

Marc had his whole family ripped away from him because his little brother literally went insane with jealousy? Honestly, if the bastard wanted superpowers so fucking badly, he could gone to play in a pool at a nuclear power plant!

Marc's lot in life truly wasn't fair. You understood his prickly, walled-off personality a bit more, but moreover you just felt... saddened. You almost didn't push through the loss of your family. Being a combative young girl, violent and opposing to your guardians as you frog-hopped your way through foster homes; many parents simply didn't bother with you after the first month of constant disobedience and violent outbursts.

And couple all of that with the running away... it had gotten to the point nobody had wanted you, so you were forced to live in a roughened group home for the duration of your dwindling childhood.

But none of that felt as horrible and gut-wrenching compared to coming home to your own child brutally murdered out of petty jealousy and perceived rivalry.

Your heart broke for him; he had suffered horrible situations all because of someone he should have been able to love and trust with his life. Someone--

"You're spacing again."

You jumped, almost dropping your gauntlet as Marc's voice cuts through your thoughts.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, "Yeah, just... Got a bit on my plate, so to speak."

His chair squeaks as he turns back to sharpening his darts; after pointing out he needed new ones, Marc actually took your advice and put in a request with Fury for the materials to manufacture new ones. And provide a few modifications to your own equipment as well. It was the least he could do for being such an ass to you before.

The grindstone whirred, soft sparks falling onto the worktable as he meticulously honed the edges of the blades down to their fine edges; his warm chocolate eyes focusing with intensity on his task.

You tucked one leg beneath yourself from where you hunched over on the couch, staring at him for a moment before returning to your own work, hoping to distract you from your morbid and depressing train of thought.

"Have anything to do with Strange?" He asked, the question short and clipped.

"Eh?" You blinked, almost dropping your tool at the suddenness of his question. It was... weirdly out of nowhere. You hadn't really interacted with Stephen much since your hospitalization, and maybe once or twice when dealing with things at Avengers Tower.

"No?"

"He's been hovering." He muttered, frowning as he began working on a new dart, setting the completed one off to the side with the others.

"You mean like... at meetings?" You blinked dumbly, your jaw slacking slightly.

"Yes."

"Well, I mean... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Any particular reason?" He hummed, his mouth twisting as he scowled through the magnifier.

You furrowed your brow and squinted at him, blinking a few times. He seemed... Stiff. Prickly, almost. He almost looked like he...

You grinned widely, a lightbulb blipping to life inside of your head.

"Oh my god."

You lean forward, grasping your gauntlet in one hand and still grinning, staring at his posture. Marc seemed to go even stiffer than before, his movements not as precise as before, almost as if he was trying to distract himself from the current subject.

"Marc, are you jealous?"

The silence was your best answer, and you laughed, leaning back on the couch, and kicking your feet as your giddiness overtook you. "Marc!"

Marc spun around and slammed his fist on the table, barking, "I was only wondering if there are any distractions that might screw you up on patrol!"

You finally dropped your gauntlet, clutching your belly as it ached from laughing, his absurd reaction to your observation just ratting him out more, "Oh my god!" You gasped, rolling onto your side.

"Shut the hell up!" He snapped.

"Marc!" You sputtered, snorting at him.

"Ugh!" He grunted, jerking his chair back around to look at the task he'd dropped on the worktable.

"Stephen has been like, nosey because I was thinking about asking Fury to transfer me as his partner."

His shoulders twitched, "What?"

You sit up again a bit, resting your weight on your elbow as you let your leg sling over the side of the couch; "When we split our little dynamic duo; before I got hurt, I requested I work with Stephen because... Well? We have decent chemistry and ideally that's what you want in a partnership."

Marc scowled, keeping his back to you as you spoke; why was he so defensive over this? Why did that hot, simmering feeling return to the pit of his gut? He thought he buried it the day he saw you in the medical ward back in the Tower when you agreed to be his partner again.

"And as for the weird ass flowers? Gamora and Groot gave those to me. She popped in to say hi, and Groot happened to sprout some while we were talking. They gave them to me as a get-well present."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, over his shoulder, "You certainly enjoyed his attention, though."

You coughed awkwardly into your hand, and cleared your throat; "Well, a woman appreciates chivalry every now and again, Marc. And Stephen can be really chivalrous when he wants to be."

You crossed your arms, and huffed out a puff of air. "And your manners certainly match the sewers you were living in... But it's no reason to get friggin' jealous or anything."

"I'm not jealous for the last damn time!" He snapped again, glaring at you.

"Oh... so you're protective, then? Are you that worried about me?"

He growled, grinding his teeth together as he pushed himself up from the table, the wheels on his chair squeaking audibly as he muttered under his breath.

"Hey! Where are you going?" You asked, climbing to your feet as he yanked on his hoodie.

"Out for a drink. I need one after dealing with you." He scoffed, walking up the basement stairs.

"But it's 11 in the morning!" You retort.

Even though he seemed pissed, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, your fingers touching your chin as you heard the front door slam.

"She's insufferable!" Marc growled, scowling deeply out of the window, his brown eyes watching as children played outside and cars drove by. The muffled barking of a dog could be heard from somewhere through the window.

"I swear, dealing with her has me wanting to shave my head and jump in the Hudson in the middle of winter!"

May smiled into her tea, her green eyes twinkling with mischief as the wrinkles at the corners became more obvious the more Marc ranted about you.

"Your tea is getting cold." She reminded him with a hum.

The former Marine slumped his shoulders with a hefty sigh and dropped onto the cushioned chair on the other side of the tea table next to her, taking the chipped mug in his hands before taking a big swig of it; swirling the slightly bitter liquid around in his mouth before swallowing.

"You've been talking about your partner for a while, Marc. And while you seem agitated about her," May set her mug down on a saucer to look at him with a patient smile.

"Has she really done anything to make you this angry? Or is there some other underlying issue?"

His brows furrowed and he rubbed his hand along his stubble, looking at her quizzically, "I don't follow."

"Marc, you're not used to having to rely on someone in such a hefty capacity like this," May said gently.

"You've been working alone for so long you've boxed yourself into a little corner and get mad when people don't act the way you want them to, or if they don't see things the way you do, at first. It's why you acted the way that you did when all those symbiotes invaded."

"Okay, I have my reasons for..." Marc noticed her silvery brow quirk up, her lips tipping into a smirk. He brought his tea to his lips and drank again. "...continue."

"You were concerned with your own survival. You had been alone for so long you felt like, even with your hero work as Moon Knight, you were still in it by yourself."

"...Someone helped convince me." He sighed softly, looking into the tea a bit, swirling it in the mug.

"Oh yeah, someone did all right." May said haughtily, "And I bet she was so smart and amazing at it, too."

"And a little full of herself. And preachy..." Marc slowly smiled at her.

"Okay, well, aside from that--" May giggled. "It's nice to know that I had a hand in you opening up more. Spider-Man being that other hand."

Marc pursed his lips. May Parker may know that Marc Spector is actually Moon Knight... But she did not know her beloved nephew was the Spider-Man. He didn't like lying to her, it left a foul taste in his mouth. She was one of the few--the very few--friends he had left in the world and it felt wrong to mislead her.

But he swore to Peter he wouldn't tell May until the youth decided he was ready.

"So, I think your apparent "frustration" with her might just be the fact that you're not used to having someone inhabit your personal bubble so easily. Your personalities are very different, but... You like her. It angers you because you try not to like her--or people in general--but it just happened."

"That's not..." Marc started to say; but, instead he rubbed the back of his neck. "...Entirely untrue."

"And you seem to be unreasonably annoyed that this girl had been looking for a new partner... And seemed to enjoy whatever flattery he was putting on for her."

He raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"Marc, did you stop to analyze your feelings on a slightly more... intimate manner?" May sighed hopelessly, shaking her head before taking another sip of her tea.

"Uh--hey, wait! What's that supposed to mean!" He sputtered, turning in the chair to look at her fully, feeling an uncomfortable sweat in his palms.

"Do you think you might be so protective of her because you're interested in her on a more personal level? You know, romantically. Or... otherwise."

Ugh, he hated how sagely this woman could be sometimes. She was wonderful at giving advice, but torture when she got to the core of the issues discussed.

And he knew, deep down, that she wasn't far off from the truth.

"May--"

"Marc." She put her hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze, "Would it be so bad to let somebody in like that? To let her get close to you?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and determinedly sucked the rest of his tea down before speaking;

"Yes. May, I'm taking a big risk just even being friends with you. Being around your nephew."

"Is it... because of your hero work?" May asked, her eyes shining with concern.

"Yes and no... it's..." His eyes cast down to the floor, the bitter memories of what happened to his wife and daughter, his friends, associates... all at the hands of his brother.

"There's someone. A criminal who--who has it out for me. He's been targeting people close to me for years, May. I... don't want him to hurt anybody else."

She squeezed his arm again, smiling kindly, "Tell me. Please. You know you can."

"It's... not pretty, May. It's horrific, what he's done. She found out about it and I'm pretty sure she's started letting it fester in her brain." He sighed, slumping his shoulders a bit.

"I've seen a lot, Marc." May says softly. "After losing Ben, how he was taken from us... it wasn't easy. You know how I felt, I've already told you. So... Please."

Marc lifted his eyes and took a deep breath.

And began to speak.

PT. 7: No idea, with fall around the corner I may come back to this just for the spooky vibes and to hopefully be able to wrap this up!

[watatsumiis]

I'm in my hurt/comfort era, so can I request Arlecchino comforting her lover after some Snezhnayan dignitaries made them feel insecure?

You certainly can! This was so fun to write and you've really just solidified my Arlecchino brainrot, so, thanks!

Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), pre-established romantic relationship, some mentions of the reader being talked down to/mocked and feeling like garbage because of it. Romantic affection and pet names from Arlecchino (sweetheart, love, pet) - you call her 'Arlie'. Arlecchino threatens violence against the dignitaries <3

Word count: ~950

You slam open the door to Arlecchino's study with a huff. She's not in here, of course. She never is at this time of day - perhaps that's for the better, you don't particularly want her seeing you in such a sorry state.

It was foolish to think you'd been gaining actual respect around here - everyone seemed to just see you as an extension of the tenth harbinger - the moment you're without her, you're essentially snubbed by the dignitaries that roam the palace.

Today seemed to be the exception, however. You tried to speak your mind during a strategy meeting, only for two particularly catty higher-ups to turn their noses up and all but mock you in front of everyone. It was completely and utterly humiliating.

You know that if Arlecchino had been there, she would've given them a dressing-down that they wouldn't soon forget, but she hadn't - you can't seem to stop thinking about the way your voice died in your throat as you opened your mouth up to defend yourself. You can't help but feel ashamed at how you couldn't even manage to stick up for yourself.

You cross your arms over your chest and kick the door closed behind you, walking over to Arlecchino's desk - she seems to be in the middle of some assignment - or maybe three, judging by the way the papers are sorted into what could possibly be different piles.

Plonking down in her high-backed chair, you start to feel a little better. Sitting at her desk always makes you feel big and powerful - you suspect it was designed that way on purpose.

You sniff and lean back with a long, low sigh, just as the door opens.

You're a little relieved to realise that it's Arlecchino and not one of her subordinates - you don't think you have it in you to put on the whole formal charade after the humiliation you just received in that meeting.

She's wrapped up in a long black cloak, and holding a steaming mug in one hand. "Good afternoon, pet." Her lips curl into the shadow of a smile as she spots you. "Making yourself at home, I see?" Her shoes clack on the tile as she approaches you.

You give her an affirmative hum and a dip of your chin, hoping to conceal how upset you are. She has enough on her plate.

Unfortunately, your thin masquerade doesn't seem to cut it. You see her brow furrow ever so slightly as she sets her mug down on the desk and twitches her fingers in a silent gesture for you to stand up.

"What's wrong?" Arlecchino asks you as she sits down.

"Nothing." You murmur, about to step away before you feel her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into her lap.

"I'm not stupid, sweetheart." Her tone borders on amusement at the fact you are trying to deceive her. She's always been able to read you like a book.

You feel her warm breath puff against your neck as she noses into you, practically purring in your ear as she coils her arms tighter around you.

It's hard not to give in when she has you like this, trapped in her embrace as she preens and fusses over you. You let out a defeated sigh.

Arlecchino remains respectfully quiet as you recite what happened in the meeting, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I... It wasn't that bad, really. I'm just overreacting." You finish, scrunching your face up.

You hear her scoff and worry that it's directed at you, but your fears are quickly dissuaded as she pulls you flush against her chest. "Those bastards." She growls out. "I'll flay them alive. Just say the word."

Her unquestioning loyalty and protectiveness towards you makes warmth bloom in your chest, and you can't help but smile a little, as much as you try to quash it down. "Arlie, no." You reach up to push a snowy white lock of hair off of her face. She seems to be pouting a little - it's accentuated by the pinkish-red lipstick she's chosen to wear today. "I... I need to be able to fight my own battles." You insist, though the mere idea of facing up to those stuck up snobs makes you feel small and insignificant all over again.

Arlecchino lets out a hmph, shortly followed by her pressing her face into the side of your head. "Still." She grumbles. "Let me show you how it's done, at least." You can still feel her gloved hands on you, pulling you closer as if you aren't already smushed up against one another. You shake your head silently - her protectiveness over you has always been one of the things that endeared you.

"You're better than them." She assures you - you can't help but smile - this is high praise, coming from her. You've seen firsthand how much time it's taken her to be so open with her compliments. "Those fools are less than the dirt beneath my heel." You hear her stomp one foot on the ground to exaggerate her point, and feel her lips brush against your neck lightly. "Just say the word, my love, I'll show them just how big of a mistake it was for them to even dare to gaze upon you." Her voice has dipped into a lower octave, more of a growl than anything.

You grin as you tilt your head towards hers. She's always had a way of making you feel so completely and utterly loved and cherished, and you're quickly finding that the memory of the disapproving glares of the dignitaries are fading out, replaced by your lover's adoring gaze.

You shift your angle in her lap and catch her lips on your own - her surprised hum is quickly drowned out as she wholeheartedly leans into it.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[utilitycaster]

Welcome to what may or may not become an ongoing thing as I finish Streams of Silver, the penultimate book of the first two trilogies of the Legend of Drizzt, ie, the ones I bought as ebooks. Let us assess along the following scales.

Lord of the Rings Parallels: Dwarf sets off on a journey to reclaim his lost mountain homeland. They leave home, but are chased by someone specifically in pursuit of their halfling companion, due to an object said halfling possesses. They need to flee the first real city they stop in after, among other things, causing a scene in a tavern. Wizards are spying on them from afar. They stop in a relatively kindly learned place. At one point, a beautiful woman gives Drizzt healing herbs and generic brand lembas bread. When they find their mountain stronghold, it has a hidden door that requires some degree of knowledge of the dwarven culture to open. Said stronghold is full of mithril, and was overtaken by hostile foes because the dwarves delved too deep. Someone appears to fall in battle in the stronghold, but does not.

Regis was alive but taken by the enemy.

(the Evermoors bit is far more like The Hobbit Mirkwood crossing in vibes though, as is the outwitting of trolls)

Conclusion: LOTR as FUCK. [do not respond to this with more LOTR parallels. this post is about me having fun, not about how good a nerd you are.]

Reminders that this is D&D: speaking of trolls, the regeneration and fire are a plot point, which is well done. I don't know AD&D nor do I feel the need to so there's probably other stuff. Also, they sure do be going into dungeons and finding dragons in the Icewind Dale trilogy.

Women?: Catti-brie is capable in battle, gets some armor and weaponry, and more importantly gains some degree of personality and is even a viewpoint character for the villains scenes, which is great! I still find Wulfgar so boring (he is not a woman but he allegedly has feelings for Catti-brie, which we are repeatedly told about but there is no reason other than "she is the only human woman his age around"). Sydney was pretty great though. She sucked, but at least she like, did things. Also I enjoyed Dove Falconhand's brief appearance in the Dark Elf trilogy and would like to see her more so Lady "legally distinct from Galadriel" Alustriel mentioning her was nice. Also Guenhwyvar is a female extraplanar panther. Is Guenhwyvar a girlboss? discuss.

Villainy: Apparently we haven't seen the last of Artemis Enteri but personally I loved the evil wizard subplot. Hopefully we get more of that because Mr. Enteri is fine enough but there's only so many times you can mention his jeweled daggers and excellent sword hand and stealth but wizards can fuck you up in thousands of exciting and fun ways.

The naming of parts: Looks like Mr. Eoin Colfer was not the first person to name a somewhat amoral bastard man "Artemis".

We still do not have any excuse for someone being named "Catti-brie" though and it is kind of funny when other women are named shit like Catti-brie and Alustriel and Dove Falconhand and then there's just good old Sydney.

Lavender orbs: yeah they're mentioned multiple times. Not as lavender orbs, but "lavender" is said a lot in reference to Drizzt's eyes. I did not count how many times but I may do so for The Halfling's Gem.

Other things:

You can tell the Dark Elf trilogy was written later because it is notably better. Like, this is still readable but it's way rougher.

Ideal scenario is they trade Wulfgar for Regis and Guenhwyvar but they probably won't.

Speaking of LOTR, "Twinkle" is the stupidest weapon name of all time. Mr. Do'Urden please explain what the fuck you are thinking. I know you also at some point get a different scimitar named Icingdeath and all I can think of is that 30 Rock scene where the Donaghy siblings are naming their fists for punching reasons and one of them says "Say hello to Bono and Sandra Day O'Connor."

[unusualindigo]

My Escher Backstory

At 63 years old, Escher is the youngest, and perhaps most free-spirited, of Strahd’s consorts.

Growing up as the son of one of Barovia’s former Burgomasters, Escher was once fast friends with the son of the village priestess, Alexi Donavich.

As the pair grew, they both discovered a talent for the esoteric. Whilst Alexi found himself following his mother down a holy path, Escher discovered his own affinity for the spirits of the departed. Through listening to them, he could channel their stories into hymns, then poems, then songs.

Using his talents, Escher found himself a controversial figure in the village, to his father’s dismay. Alexi and he, though lovers in secret, soon had a falling out as Alexi, grieving the loss of his mother and angry at Escher’s continued use of spiritual energy in his music, led a group to cast him out of the village.

Escher felt his heart die there, watching as the boy he loved spat venom at him from on high, saying that he should be lucky that they only broke his harp, and not his body.

Seeing no future for himself, Escher began to trek to the last place any sane Barovian would tread; Castle Ravenloft itself.

Arriving uninvited, Escher was let in only on the sadistic graces of Anastrasya and Volenta, each looking forward to seeing him crumble before their Lord, Strahd. 

Escher asked only for a harp to play for the Lord of Ravenloft, and left quite an impression as he channeled the raw loathing and hopelessness of the Lord’s treacherous soldiers from that night so long ago.

Six years would pass, and Escher would find himself growing closer to the ladies of Ravenloft. In Ludmilla he found someone to debate the nature of his magics with, and in Volenta an equally mischievous force to contend with. Anastrasya, for her part, was always his harshest critic, though the banter soon became rather catty and playful between them.

In the Lord of Ravenloft himself, Escher found a vigorous philosophical opponent, and the two would spend long hours debating the nature of the spirit and of conflict. Escher always reveled in what glimpses of the man Strahd used to be would filter through.

Once his twentieth birthday began to approach, Escher began to envy the close, if unconventional ties between the vampires of the castle. He began to make overtures in his performances to Strahd, begging a chance to become one of his consorts.

Escher could tell that Strahd had some growing interest in him, but the man was stubborn to a fault, and thought it unseemly to turn him at so young an age, especially given the base of their relationship.

Escher, frustrated, began to scour the castle for ways to make Strahd see things his way. His searches were short lived, as the chamberlain, Rahadin, had never taken a liking to him, and took the opportunity to suggest of removing him from the castle entirely.

Escher’s blood froze as Strahd contemplate that notion. However, Strahd offered him one last chance. He had exiled the werewolves from Ravenloft after one of their prior leaders, Gorick, had slaughtered a reincarnation of his beloved Tatyana.

If Escher could convince their current leader, Amalric, to agree to a meeting with Strahd, and convince Strahd himself of the werewolves worth as agents again.

Before he left, Volenta told him of Amalric’s weakness to the pleasures of the flesh, and with no other options of ease in this trial, Escher acquiesced to the beast’s hunger. He spent many vigorous nights sating the bastard, whispering in his ear of the glories awaiting him in Strahd’s service.

It didn’t even take but two seasons to bend the fool to his whims, and Escher soon found himself contending with Strahd’s iron will, not truly for the wolves, but for his own worth.

To his delight, not only did Strahd agree to let the wolves back in, and to sire Escher at last, but to Escher’s poisoning of Amalric in one year’s time.

Soon, Escher found himself awakening to periwinkle eyes as Strahd cleansed him of the filth of that loathsome man.

Anastrasya also rewarded him quite harshly for his efforts, and the two soon settled into a comfortable distance, trading barbs and competitively seeing who could bend such and such lord over a barrel first, sometimes quite literally.

Volenta made him her greatest asset, a spy who can move wherever he likes in the castle and beyond, and allowing him to hold sway over the wolves, making them his spies in turn. Thus, did he oust Rahadin from his spying duties, though the crotchety old elf is content with that outcome.

Ludmilla and he, sharing a bloodline, collaborate on occasion to perform certain rituals, and still enjoy debating their philosophies and such to this day. Escher even felt comfortable enough to participate in her experiments, so strong is his trust in her.

For forty years Escher served Ravenloft and Strahd in this manner, keeping the wolves in line and gathering information and favor from the broader populace. It was on one such venture that word reached Escher of an assault on the keep.

Rushing back, Escher found only the bodies awaiting him. Strahd dismissed him with nary a glance, throwing himself into an effort to expand the mists around Barovia. Deeply hurt at being cast aside once more, Rahadin took delight in reminding Escher of the reincarnations of Tatyana and their hold on Strahd. One such man had been born outside the mists, and had brought a vampire from there upon their door, who Strahd had slain.

Brooding over his loss of affection, Escher began to recede from public life earlier than expected, watching sullenly as Strahd grew ever more distant from them.

A few years into his seclusion, Escher found a young boy whilst he watched Barovia from a nearby hill. He had auburn hair.

Escher wearily told Volenta of his findings, having also seen the boy’s playmate, the spitting image of a young Alexi. Heart still broken over his first love, Escher took to spying on Doru and his father, enviously watching as they paid tribute to the boy’s departed mother.

When Doru was brought into the Mad Mage’s rebellion, it was only by Escher’s grace that he was merely turned into a vampire spawn, rather than slaughtered like the other fools. However, Strahd’s turning of the boy was interrupted by the Mage, turning the boy into one of the Deamhan line, the most savage and miserable of the lot.

Though he’s sure he should feel guilty, Escher was delighted as he watched Alexi turn to murder and deceit to keep his death seeking boy alive. A cold vengeance, for his broken heart.

[teknicaldifficulties]

here's some lysander hcs bc i'm very autistic over this bastard

their favorite animal is rabbits. they've never owned a real one, but they had multiple stuffed rabbit plushies as a kid. the idea of pulling rabbits out of your hat was what got them into stage magic in the first place (no one else in their family practiced it, they were the first stavros to take it up), and little 8 year old lysander was very disappointed to discover that you can't materialize rabbits out of nothing with just a top hat. they kept learning stage magic anyways.

they've been in a multitude of stage shows at the rec center, often appearing alongside zoey. they consider their magnum opus to be playing angel in a production of rent. however, talented as they are onstage, they never quite reached zoey's local darling status among the hatchetfield players bc they're significantly harder to work with, and thus don't get cast as much. zoey is catty and full of herself, but she at least listens to the director. lysander will bicker with the director, and occasionally tries to direct their castmates which is a big fat no-no. they're still pals with zoey tho, they talk shit about their castmates and complain about hatchetfield together all the damn time. most insufferable friendship in all of hatchetfield <3

speaking of people who can actually put up with lysander, one of their neighbors in the apartment complex they live in is a single mother with two 7 year old twin daughters, and lysander adores them. they're a completely different person around them. lysander already loves kids and is surprisingly good with them (kids generally find their art and performances really cool, and that warms their shriveled little heart), and those two little girls who love their puppets and viola playing are no exception. the girls call them "sandy" bc they were only 3 when lysander moved in next to them and "lysander" was too much of a mouthful for them to pronounce back then. anyone else who calls them sandy gets a major verbal tongue-lashing. as i've said, lysander's attitude towards children is their one redeeming personality trait, and the mother and her girls have no idea how much of an insufferable jerk lysander is otherwise.

before lysander started working at watcher world, they worked as a street performer at just about every honey festival since they turned 13. oftentimes juggling, doing face paintings, or putting on little puppet shows for crowds. the one exception was in 2015, the year where they got to host the honey queen pageant. they only ever did it that one time bc it was volunteer work, and thus they went unpaid (they at least made money performing in the street fair outside). it was merely a resume builder, even if lysander was regarded as one of the best hosts the pageant ever had. pompous as they are, their onstage charisma is undeniable.

[hbdttg]

somebody kill me, ed made isabella a heart-shaped omelet for breakfast. get this sappy romantic bastard the fuck out of there and straight into oswald’s arms for the love of god

i’m obsessed with how catty hallucination!kristen is

oswald is such a manipulative little goblin, i’m absolutely screaming. the couch scene where he nudges ed in the direction of a breakup is so foul, but when ed asks him to break up with her for him and to be gentle, the glassy-eyed smile oswald gives him in return is THE MOST PRECIOUS THING ON EARTH. ughhhhHHH. give him the world, i don’t care

“i don’t deserve him” “glad we agree. bye~” king shit oswald forever

isabella just needed 5 minutes in a room with oswald to see that he was head over heels in love with ed. she’s met this man just once before and has had barely one and a half conversations with him, and she was able to see the love in his eyes clear as motherfucking day. i will never get over what a giant, blind idiot edward nygma is. WHAT HAS TWO EYES BUT CAN’T SEE?? i hate this, throw the whole man away

fuck isabella fuck isabella fuck isabella. ugh the kristen dress-up scene is the single worst moment of my existence

wait i just noticed that oswald had gabe cut isabella’s brake line before he even learned about her and ed reconciling. he was NOT taking any chances lmao

[emeren]

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 

eren lost? 

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 

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

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 

“yes what?” 

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 

“night, casanova.” 

<3 <3 <3 

[catty-words]

every time lexa says clarke’s name: 34/?

[theboarsbride]

Might I trouble you for some headcanons about Grima and Tathareth's relationships? Any headcanons you want, I just wanna hear all about them, please! Thank you!

OUGGGGH OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!!!!!!!!💜🐍

I am always prepped and ready to scream about these two, they've been giving me brainrot so much lately fkldkldkfldkldfk 🥺🥺💛💛

They view each other as kindred spirits, and a lot of this starts with their personal experiences as an 'ostracized' other within their respective societies because of their mixed heritages (with Grima being Rohirrim/Dunlending and Tathareth being Lothlorien/Woodland elf). Tathareth knows her own experiences cannot really compare to Grima's so she often refrains talking about them (unlike Grima klkdlfkf who is a bish that holds grudges RIP), as most of the social exclusion and rejection she faced was more downlow and catty, and eventually grew to become her own doing as she developed an isolationist, socially anxious personality in adulthood.

So there is a mutual 'attraction' to their lack of judgement towards ethnic backgrounds, mutual sympathies for one another's experiences, and Grima just values how Tathareth is kind to him despite all he's done and doesn't seek to treat him any differently from any other person she's healed (even if he doesn't trust it at first). Tathareth mostly finds herself attracted out of curiosity because jfldklklsd she's got a lot of questions about the world beyond Lothlorien and for a man who worked so closely with dark sorcery because deep down, despite the cold and apathetic front she puts up, she is just a curious and lonely girl she was in her youth. also just the appeal of loving/healing a Bad Boy....even if he is all scrungly and unappealing kdslkdslsks

Tathareth is very much against PDA, mostly because she wishes to preserve the dignity and reputation she has as a healer (as elves begin to whisper and gossip about how her spending more time with Grima led to her mind being infected and him poisoning her medicines). Grima, however, WANTS to publicly display his love, he wants it to be known he loves an elf, and more importantly he wants it to be known that HE is loved by an ELF. He's a bit of a selfish (and highkey possessive that aspect of the former """affections""" he felt towards Eowyn hasn't left him completely) bastard, but he refrains from being public with his affections as being around elves that he knows are taller, faster, and stronger than himself (and also don't hold very positive views about him) makes him ✨nervous✨.

Speaking of potentially poisoning medicines......they both like gardening! Just... spending time in gardens together, or watching one another garden, etc. Tathareth works primarily with herbs and spices and other medicinal plants, while Grima takes a liking to poisonous plants--wolfsbane, belladonna, oleander, hemlock, snakeroot, delphinium, etc. Tathareth cultivates life; Grima cultivates death. ljgljfljfljggflfk ok lowkey Hades and Persephone parallels ig????

For better or worse, Grima heavily associates Tathareth with Jimson Weed (though the analogy initially started with how she dresses in pastel purples and greys).

LOTS OF NIGHTTIME WALKS!!!!! Tathareth has always loved solo walks at night as she gathered herbs or just to have more intimate solitude where she can stargaze in peace, but Grima starts joining her when he struggles to sleep (thanks trauma-induced nightmares), and even before there are romantic feelings they both just kinda... enjoy the company of someone who isn't hostile or judgmental and just want to be alone--so they be alone and introverted together.

Tathareth has a fear of horses (or really any large animal), so Grima tries to warm her up to them, even tries teaching her to ride one... but when she realizes that she isn't really a horse girl and riding isn't a skill of hers, she is content just riding with Grima instead.🥺

ALSO!!!!!! TATHARETH IS TALLER THAN GRIMA. and can lift him lmao dklsklkdlksdlk. But not by much.... just tall enough that she needs to lean down just a wee bit for a kiss-kiss--

also just know their """"""canonical"""" has me squealing and excited to write but jlsjljddlsjdlsjldsj don't wanna spoil much but uhhh imagery is similar to that scene with Aragorn and Arwen from Fellowship of the Ring.

These are the headcanons I offer for now!!!!!! I hope these are alright, and my inbox/ask box is always open to scream about these two🥺💛thanks so much again for this ask!!!!!!

[smells-like-mettaton]

Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List

I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count.  Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!

Extra Credit by FriedCatfish

Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization

world comes pouring through by feralpheonix

Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.

white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys

Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;

Found Soul by LibraLibrary

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.

And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.

Experimentation by pickledragon

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.

Memory by Ash_yeet

Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.

Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard

Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)

When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa

Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun

Friendshipping by AyuOhseki

Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys

social links by simplycarryon

Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D

See You Another Time by decamarks

Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far.  All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one

(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)

Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds

Support Character by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.

it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax

Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been.  With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.

The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax

Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door.  This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Season 4, Episode 4: An Extremely Chaotic and Incoherent Review

OKAY DEADASS MY SECOND FAVORITE EPISODE IN THE SEASON, GET HYPED

The Good:

My GOD. This episode fucks so HARD. I think it added back the 15 years that all-nighters in college chopped off my lifespan.

First of all, this episode said NateBert rights and I’m losing my mind

THEIR LITTLE SECRET HANDSHAKE OH MY GOD

They’re so happy to be together again!!!

Also they’re like “we’re gonna be catty and cause problems on purpose, but now we’re gonna do it together”

Anyone else notice that Hawk lowkey decided he's Bert and Nate's bodyguard in this episode??? Like Kenny's about to start shit with Bert and Nate in the bathroom? BAM, here is our favorite avian edgelord to the rescue! Kenny looks at Bert and Nate the wrong way for two (2) seconds? BOOM here comes a wild bird, swooping in to spill our boy's snacks like a vengeful seagull! Like not only did Hawk re-adopt Bert, he saw him hanging with Nate and was like "okay fuck it, this one's my son too now"

And remember how Demetri protected Nate and Bert in the S3 Christmas fight??? HOW ABOUT THAT

PARALLELS

I can't believe I said Demetri and Hawk should adopt Nate and Bert as their nerd sons and then it became canon

Apollo gave me the gift of prophecy

"Word of advice, kid? Get out of Cobra Kai while you still can." is...oddly heartwarming??? Like yes Hawk is trying to be a smug evil bastard when he says it but he's tryna (albeit evilly) warn Kenny not to get sucked down the same dark path he did. Pretty neat!

DEMETRI LITERALLY LETS HIMSELF BE A PUNCHING BAG, like he doesn't even try to argue he just resigns himself like "I guess this is my life now" it's so fucking funny

Good boi Johnny Lawrence giving Demetri some padding so he doesn't break his ribs, excellent

Johnny actually checking in on Demetri after he gets kicked in the balls is wholesome as hell, like I'm pretty sure that's the first time in the entire series he's actually shown concern for Dem??? I fucking love it, my boy Johnny Lawrence is a softie for these kids and will never admit it

And Demetri is SO blase about it too??? Says he's fine while literally limping and clearly in extreme pain???

"You sure you're okay?" "Oh yeah, no, they're starting to turn back to their normal color" I LOVE THIS CONVERSATION, MY GOD

Demetri has toughened up so much it's insane, like imagine the bitch fit he'd throw over this punching bag business in season 1??? And now he can take a kick to the nuts like it's only a mild inconvenience, I'M SO PROUD OF HIM

Hey so Miguel and Daniel still have my ENTIRE HEART ACTUALLY

Oh shit, I forgot they also both grew up with single moms!!! Will the parallels ever end???

Gotta love how patient Daniel is with him, like mentally Miguel is already his son-in-law, it's great

"How do I tell my student that I'm banging his mom?" ICONIC

Classic Johnny Lawrence, straight to the point

DAAAAAAMN Sam is being highkey shitty to Tory in this episode, but like...I actually love that for her??? Like one of my favorite aspects of Sam has always been how flawed and realistic she is, and she wouldn't be any fun if she was a total saint who was always the "bigger person." I love that she's giving into her inner asshole to the point where people have to call her out for it.

Like I love when characters aren't enough of a jerk to lose sympathy for them but enough of a jerk to spice things up

I also genuinely felt awful for Tory when Sam made that dig at her singing, so like...congrats, show, for actually making me feel bad for Tory??? I've always kind of disliked her up until this point, but she's in a tricky situation for sure and I can actually see myself starting to warm up to her this season.

Also I'll grudgingly admit that Tory is adorable with kids ;___;

I do gotta say that Sam is a SAVAGE for smooching Miguel in front of her, like it's so petty but I kind of love it. Big Misery Business energy.

Love that Amanda is trying to mediate somewhat. I definitely didn't expect that, but it's nice to see someone try and reach out to Tory, after everything she's been through. I wonder if she sees any of a younger Daniel in Tory--a poor kid growing up with anger issues and limited resources to address them.

Fuckin love Robby and Kenny's relationship. Like the way Robby tries to protect him from the rougher parts of Cobra Kai??? Top tier content. I was frustrated with Robby last season, but him being such a sweet big karate bro is endearing him to me, I'll admit.

Also it's making me even more of a Shawbby truther. Between Kenny's buff older brother and his hardcore karate boyfriend literally no one would ever be able to bully Kenny again, it's great!!!

AUGH AUGH AUGH AUGH we got a wholesome Daniel-Miguel relationship, but at what cost??? IT'S OKAY JOHNNY YOU'RE STILL HIS KARATE DAD TOO I PROMISE

Tory x Robby is actually not bad at all. Disaster bi 4 disaster bi energy. I kinda fuck with it.

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT the way Hawk's buddies IMMEDIATELY came to back him up

SAM WAS THE FIRST ONE EVEN THOUGH HE WAS A SHIT TO HER LAST SEASON

Highkey love how protective Sam is of her dojomates, and how willing she is to forgive Hawk doing so much fuckery last season. My theory is that both Miguel and Demetri put in a good word for Hawk, and because Miggy and Dem mean a lot to her, she's willing to let her and Hawk's beef be water under the bridge for their sakes. Like a "well, I trust both of you, and if you trust Hawk, then so do I" type of deal. Like ultimately Sam cares for Demetri and Miguel enough that any friend of theirs must deserve a second chance, and I think that's pretty neat.

Ngl I did NOT think Hawk and Sam would make friends that fast, but I'm not complaining. They have excellent chaotic besties potential.

Anyways what I was trying to say is that BY GOD, DEMETRI WAS RIGHT, HAWK DOES HAVE FRIENDS WATCHING HIS BACK FOR HIM

THE PROPHECY IS FULFILLED

AUGHAUGHAUGHAUGHAUGH HAWK MIGUEL DEMETRI AND SAM SQUADDING OUT IN THE CAR BY THE BASEBALL DIAMOND AND BEING BROS IS EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER WANTED AND MORE

LIKE I'VE ALWAYS WANTED SO BADLY FOR THEM TO BE A POWER SQUAD YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

THE STRAIGHT KARATE POWER COUPLE AND THE GAY KARATE POWER COUPLE

I'M LOSING MY ENTIRE SHIT

Demetri gives Miguel a little congratulatory shoulder slap and I'm gonna fucking SOB

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I MISSED THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO GOTDAM MUCH

Anyone who says that people "don't appreciate male friendships" when they ship mlm pairings have CLEARLY never seen me gushing at great length and sobbing on the floor about the absolute masterpiece that is Demetri and Miguel's platonic bond

SO SUBTLE AND UNDERSTATED BUT SO GODDAMN GOOD

Also, if anyone is wondering where I am, from now on I will be living mentally and emotionally in the "Henceforth, Miguel Diaz shall be known as the rainmaker!" "EL DIABLO DE LA LLUVIA!" *Miguel grinning* scene

What do you get when you combine Miguel's wholesomeness, Hawk's hamminess, and Demetri's wordy dramatics??? The best scene in television history, that's fucking what.

GOD I missed the OG loser nerd trio so bad it HURT

Have I mentioned how much I love Miguel's two best friends being proud as hell of his sprinkler prank??? Like he sat at their pathetic little lunch table one (1) time and they both decided to hype this man up and be his personal cheer squad until the end of time

I get it though, it was a pretty epic sprinkler prank

And did you notice??? Demetri and Hawk??? ARE MATCHING???

gay

Anyways, in summary, THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWNNNNN

The Bad:

I would prefer that Nate and Bert would not be talking about a girl as I would like for them to be home of sexuals

Ngl, as much as I do love Sam and Hawk becoming friends as quickly as they do, I was hoping for a bit more cattiness and tension between them at first. Like a full-blown "enemies/rivals to best friends" arc.

Also Hawk was still a fucker to her last season and I wanted to see that apology scene??? I guess it happened off-screen and I think that's a bummer. Someone wanna write a "missing scenes" fic of it?

I feel like they're building up to a plotline about Johnny's dad, but like...I don't think I care??? Like he's already had two toxic-ass father figures with Sid and Kreese, and his bio father will probably be a dick too For The Drama, so it seems like it'll be nothing new lol

KENNY GETTING BULLIED BY MY FAVES IS MAKING MY HEART HURT

Yes I understand why, but my sweet little gamer son didn't know there was an insane dojo turf war going on D:

Already bracing myself for Kenny becoming an evil little meow meow but I am not enthused about it

The Johnny-Carmen chemistry was a bit lacking for me, like...I actually thought they were cute as hell last season, but now it seems like Carmen's entire character is going to be tied into being a love interest and a mom and that sucks

Get ready because I have MANY thoughts on Episode 5!

[smurphyse]

Touch

Masterlist

Part 5 of The Arrangement

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Adora of Alfheim (Arranged Marriage AU)

Word count: 4021

Summary: Loki and Adora attend the feast, and deal with some bitchy noblewomen. To make her feel better, Loki takes her to the rose garden, then shows her a secret only he and his mother share in a bid to get her to trust him.

The feast was a public success. Adora spent most of the night plastered to Loki’s side. Everywhere they went he had an arm slipped around her waist, or her hand intertwined with his, playing the part of the dedicated betrothed to perfection.

Loki sensed Adora’s struggle. Each time he touched her, she stiffened, sucked in a breath, or just plain refused to look him in the eye. She did her best to avoid physical contact with the other patrons, and when she was forced to clung tightly to Loki instead.

It was an odd disconnect. She obviously didn’t wish to be touched by anyone, let alone him, but his presence as the only person on Asgard with her same predicament lent to him being her comfort for the night. Loki wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to make the tension coiling in her body go away, probably so he didn’t feel like he was the reason she was so uncomfortable.

The two of them were making yet another round through the tables when Adora’s hand tightened around his bicep and she slowed. When Loki looked down to her to see what was wrong, she had her ear turned to a group of noblewomen behind them.

“From what I understand, they’re only marrying now because of the bastard,” a woman Loki vaguely knew to be from Alfheim spoke harshly, and Adora’s jaw clenched at the word. “Knowing as much of her as I do, I bet the child isn’t even Loki’s. Poor man knows not what he’s getting into.”

Adora’s gaze downcast as she listened, the hurt clear on her soft features as her body coiled tightly next to him. He was just about to turn to give the women his best glare and perhaps a rude comment when Adora spoke loud enough for them to hear.

“It’s a good thing, my beloved,” she called above the music, the women turning to look at them with wide eyes while Adora gazed lovingly up at him, a smirk plastered across her face. “You knew of my whoring ways well before our engagement. Poor Carissa of Alfheim’s husband, Count Fjodr, had no knowledge of her leg spreading until after their wedding.”

“Oh, yes, it's to our betterment that we speak so freely together,” Loki barked a laugh, delighting in the way her eyes lit up as Carissa’s cheeks flushed hotly. “Our devilish ways make us a most suitable match. My faith in you grows stronger with each day. I can only imagine how the poor man deals with such public treachery.”

“I’m told he makes time with the stable boys and girls,” Adora quipped, smiling politely as more passersby turned to listen. “Many a bastard of Alfheim has come from such an unhappy union. At least ours knows she is loved and knows naught of disappointment.”

Carissa stood with her mouth agape as Adora finally flicked her gaze her way. Her eyes watered as Adora’s stern glare locked onto Carissa’s.

“My immense grief reaches out to them both, doesn’t yours?”

“Yes, I shudder to imagine the displeasure in such a life,” Loki said, leaning down and kissing Adora’s temple. Her body relaxed under his touch, and she turned to smile gracefully at him before leading him away from the shocked nobles.

“How catty,” Loki remarked as they swept through the hall, smirking down at Adora. Her confidence seemed to wane the further they walked from the women, and Loki didn’t miss her clocking Carissa as she stomped out of the feast, dragging her husband closely behind. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Lady Adora.”

“Yes, well,” Adora murmured as she wrung her hands tightly together. “I do feel a bit cruel. From what I hear, their marriage truly isn’t happy and Count Fjodr treats his wife worse than he treats his horses.”

Loki nodded in understanding, but he cared not for that woman or her home life, “It’s not their business why we’re marrying, or to speculate so audaciously at such an event.”

Adora looked off into the sea of people, her eyes far away as she continued to pull on her hands. Loki covered them with one of his, and she jumped a bit as his skin touched hers.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, and she nodded, but her warm gaze hardened as she spoke again.

“I care little of what people say regarding my character. I’m well aware of the reputation I have." The fire built up again in those wide eyes when she looked up at him. “But I’ll not have my child spoken of as though she were a burden… to me or the realm.”

Loki smiled appreciatively at her, his fondness for her ferocity only growing. She reminded him of Frigga, something he’d worry about later. Her poise and calculated strength was admirable, her cool demeanor under pressure was something to behold. She was a good fit for Asgard, perhaps even for him. Perhaps the next twenty years wouldn’t be so bad with her.

After a few hours of raucous music and dancing, filtering through well-wishers and royal connections alike, Loki snuck her out to his mother’s rose gardens so they both could have some fresh air.

The moment they were out of sight of anyone, Adora pulled herself from his grasp, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Her cheeks were ruddied and blotchy from her nerves, so Loki kept his distance so she could breathe.

“My apologies,” she gasped lightly after a few moments of staring out in the darkness, watching the nightlife of Asgard rage from afar. The crowds could be heard even from the palace, all celebrating along with the elite at their union.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Loki told her, and she looked to him with gratitude. Even her dark chest patched red in the candlelight of the garden. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Asgardians do enjoy celebrating, especially happy occasions such as this.”

“It’s not that,” Adora murmured as they walked further into the gardens. The night was cool, and she pulled her shawl around her shoulders tightly, making sure to stand at least two feet away from him.

“May I ask what it is, then?”

Adora didn’t answer, simply walked next to him in silence as Loki led her unconsciously to his favorite spot. It was an intimate gazebo, hidden deep within the brush of the gardens and hard to find if you didn’t know where it was exactly.

She smiled genuinely for the first time in hours as she laid eyes on it, her gaze trailing along the gold vines and detailing painted by his mother’s own hand. It was quite small, only big enough for two, maybe three, people to sit side by side in the little yellow plush booth.

“Care to sit for a while?” he asked awkwardly as they stood staring at the limited space. Adora nodded, so Loki held out his hand for her to take, surprised when she did so.

He led her up the small steps and held onto her until she settled in the seat. Loki eased down next to her, suddenly filled with an awkwardness he didn't know he could muster.

What the Hel am I supposed to talk about now?

Luckily, Adora hadn't forgotten his earlier question. She wrung her hands in her lap and watched carefully ahead, her body held in a regal pose- legs crossed at the ankle, back ramrod straight, neck long and poised as she spoke with confidence.

"Where I come from," she started slowly, "it is customary to ask permission to touch a person you are not married or related to, especially if that person is royalty."

"And Asgardians are… huggers," Loki finished for her, and she nodded. It was something about his homeworld he also despised.

"I'm not used to being touched so…freely, is all."

"I can make an announcement-," Loki began but Adora blanched, shaking her head quickly as she turned to look at him.

"I'm not making a fuss," she insisted, her eyes wide. Adora reached out hesitantly, pausing midair for a moment before clasping her small hands over one of his. "I'll get used to it. Forgive me if it takes longer than one party."

Loki watched her carefully, his heart beating heavily in his chest. Her fear was palpable, and Loki felt himself less sure in playing games with her. She was struggling, and as much as he didn't want to be her husband, he felt himself growing protective of her obvious worry she'd do something wrong.

"I didn't know that about your people. I actually know very little of Alfheim," he told her quietly. Adora pulled her warm skin from his, her brows furrowing in the dim light.

"You're marrying me but you've done no research into my culture or customs?"

"Uhmm," Loki hummed, suddenly feeling quite put out and embarrassed. It was his duty as a Prince of Asgard to know about the other realms, but seeing as he would likely never rule, he hadn't put too much into studying them.

"I was told you were a scholar," Adora pressed, and a light heat rose to Loki's cheeks as she watched him critically.

"I am," he defended himself quickly. Her gaze made his skin prickle uncomfortably, and he shifted under the weight of it. "I study the things that interest me most- battle strategies, battle history, magick-,"

"You've no interest in the realms your father oversees, yet your interest lies in conquering them?"

"I-I don't really think that's a fair assumption-," he stammered. Adora turned back to face the gardens, any warmth she'd felt comfortable showing him gone in an instant.

"I knew this arrangement was just a bet between you and your father," she whispered, her stiff figure trembling next to him, "but I didn't know this was a game for you."

Loki dragged a hand across the back of his neck, the silence blanketing them both in the darkness. He watched as Adora pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and to his surprise, her chin wobbled.

It was just for a second, so quick and controlled that he almost missed it. She cleared her throat, speaking this time with a measured quiet that made him shiver.

“This is a war of peace, do you not understand? We hold the futures of our realms in the union of our hands. If we do not succeed, our kingdoms will plunge into chaos." Her choice turned low and painful as she continued, and goosebumps broke out under his armor.

"Vanaheim will overtake us all. In this universe in which we are unlucky to be born royalty, I am your punishment, and you are mine. We shall suffer one another for the next twenty years, and pretend to enjoy it.”

Loki, who could not seem to help himself, gave her a smirk in a feeble attempt to shuck the weight of their impending marriage from his shoulders, “Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment.”

Adora’s warm eyes turned cold in the lamplight. Loki wanted to turn away as she watched him with that calculated gaze that made him feel small even though he was over a foot taller than her.

“Then you’ll be the happier of us both.”

Loki bored a hole into the wood flooring of the gazebo as he digested her words. He was well aware that Adora’s reason for agreeing to this Arrangement was for the betterment of her people. The war with Asgard and the loss of her sisters left her as the only heir and sole protector of her realm, and with a bastard child she was being forced to marry him just to maintain her own standing.

But the thought of their marriage being nothing more than a peacekeeping mission frightened him. Had his father known the weight that this union would bring toward a war with Vanaheim?

Of course he had, Loki thought angrily. The old man planned for this.

If the weight of their realms truly rested on their shoulders… then Asgard and Alfheim were truly fucked.

Loki was no dignitary, he was no posterchild for peace. Loki thrived in battle, and would happily go to war with Vanaheim just to get away from the palace for a week. But if their power was truly great enough that Odin would go so far as to trick Loki into wedlock to stave off their crusaders… it meant that there was a far greater danger lurking than Loki had expected.

He looked to Adora as she sat patiently next to him, ever the perfect princess, waiting for the direction of her betrothed. How was he supposed to marry this woman? If the threat was truly as terrible as she made it out to be, then Loki was not the right choice for this peace between their nations.

Thor would be perfect for this, so why had Odin picked Loki instead? She’s a whore queen, and you’re an arsehole that nobody but your family likes, the rude part of his brain came forth in the silence. Even the servants had spoken to it. How had he managed such a reputation for barbarity and cruelty that a woman like Adora would be forced to settle for him? How much damage had her bastard done to resign her to such a fate?

Then it hit him, full force like a direct hit from an enemy's steel.

The Half-Elf and the Frost Giant. A fae in the blood line spelled danger for Asgard. If Vanaheim were to succeed in their quest to rid the realms of the Light Elves and their kin, then they would come for Asgards heirs next, which was why Odin had not chosen Thor.

Loki was adopted, and while it was a secret only rhe Odinsons knew, if Vanaheim came to cleanse a bloodline in a war Asgard would lose… Odin could risk giving up any children Loki and Adora had for the sake of the future of the realm.

By marrying him, her life was still in danger. With both Alfheim and Asgard unified, Vanaheim stood less of a chance at victory. However, if they gained the upperhand, Odin still had a bargaining chip to save his own reign.

"Are you alright?" Adora asked lightly, breaking him from his trance.

Loki's chest heaved with realization and rage, heat rising to his cheeks as she watched him softly, with concern .

He cleared his throat and nodded, then stood. Loki held out his hand for her to take, and she eyed him for a moment before clasping it gently and letting him guide her back through the gardens.

Her skin was warm against his, and Loki found himself intertwining his fingers with hers, and to his surprise she let him. It had been a long night, so when they entered the palace Loki led her away from the Great Hall.

"Where are we going?" Adora asked quietly, slowing a little when she realized where they were walking away from.

Loki squeezed her hand once and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. His realization was tearing a hole in his chest, but he didn't want her to know or worry about it just yet.

"I thought you might like to check on Milja."

"I don't think this is the way to our chambers," she whispered nervously, coming to a stop as her hand went limp in his. Wariness overtook her soft face, and Loki realized she truly didn't trust him.

"When my mother reconstructed the palace, she put in a series of hidden hallways," he began, giving her an awkward smile and sighing heavily. "I was petrified of the dark, so she made them for me so if I got scared…"

Loki swallowed thickly and glanced around to make sure nobody could hear them. The halls were empty save for the odd servant hustling back and forth from the hall to the kitchen. He swiped a hand down his face to quell some of the embarrassment, but Frigga promised more stories of his childhood, and right now he needed Adora as an ally.

"If I got scared, I could go through these halls and find her."

Adora smiled at his admission, but her brows still furrowed in confusion.

"This tapestry is a portal," he said quietly, like the secret it was. Frigga had chosen only the permanent pieces to use as portals, mostly Asgard's colors and old war relics and pieces Odin loved dearly, though only she and Loki knew thay they existed. "It leads directly to the tapestry next to your current chambers. There's another I'll show you that leads next to where Milja’s new chambers will be once we're married."

Adora stepped forward, her dark eyes full of wonder as she reached out to touch the woven silk, Loki's hand still clasped in her other hand. She held that same spark she had earlier in the night when she asked about the seidr in the chambers, and Loki found he enjoyed that look quite a bit.

She gasped just before she touched it, pulling her hand back sharply and turning it slowly as she gazed at it.

"I can feel the seidr," she said, her voice dripping in excitement, but that furrow came back between her eyes. "Can't anyone find these with such magick?"

"There are few on Asgard who practice magick and work with seidr. My mother's cloaking spell hides it from anyone else," he told her, marveling at the fact that she could feel it at all. "Do the fae work with seidr?"

Adora blanched, swallowing thickly, "I wouldn't know about that, would I?"

Her gaze bored into his, the defensive fire alight in the dark pools that watched him. She turned from him and pushed on through the portal, still clutching Loki's hand and pulling him through with her.

She doesn't want anyone to know, he thought, letting it turn over in his mind. Her heritage as a Light Elf had never been confirmed, Loki knew that much. Her mother had been a commoner, a poor one at that, and little could be found on her past. Loki had looked into Adora’s parentage a bit, but her mother remained a mystery as her commoner past meant there was little interest in documenting it unlike Wylen's.

Adora stopped in her tracks as they stepped through the other side of the portal, and Loki almost ran right into her. He was as familiar with these halls as the back of his own hand, knowing when to stop and where to keep moving, but this was all new for her.

A smile crept across her cheeks as she reached up toward the twinkly lights his mother had along the low ceiling. Loki was a child when these were created, and much smaller, so now he had to crouch a little to make it through without scalping himself while Adora’s small frame had quite a bit to go.

"This is amazing," she breathed as Loki took the reins and pulled her through the tunnel. Frigga had painted the walls with gold, her color, and bits of green for Loki to enjoy along with the lights.

He'd never tell her this, but as a child Loki hid in the tunnels more often than he used them to flit about the palace. His father was famous for his temper, which his disappointing children too often were on the receiving end of. Thor and Hela hid in the training halls, Loki made time in here.

Old books littered the flooring here and there, as they did in other tunnels, and Adora reached down and plucked one from a pile.

"Tristan and Isolde," she murmured as she read the spine of the old opera. Loki looked over her shoulder at the worn out copy. He'd read it quite a bit.

"A tragedy," Loki spoke quietly, and she glanced up at him with wide eyes. He smiled down at her, "The hero Tristan goes to Ireland to ask the hand of the princess Isolde for his uncle, King Mark of Cornwall. On their return the two mistakenly drink a love potion prepared for the king and fall deeply in love."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Adora frowned, turning back to the book with interest. "What makes it a tragedy?"

"You read it, tell me what you think when you're done." She gave him a look of annoyance, so he chuckled lightly, "I'll not spoil the end to a good story."

"That I can understand," she resigned herself, and tucked the book under her arm. She waved toward the end of the tunnel, "Lead the way, my prince."

Loki led her through the tunnels, stopping here and there as she inspected the piles of books for interesting titles.

She was a curious person, eager to learn and Loki appreciated it greatly. He liked to find new knowledge as well, and he found himself fantasizing showing Adora his sprawling library in his chambers.

He quickly shut down the fuzziness in his chest as he imagined her dainty finger trailing along a row of spines, those curls falling down her back as she stood on her tiptoes to read.

What the Hel was that? Loki blinked the image away, only to be confronted with a smiling Adora, reading the first chapter of a story, her fingers still intertwined with his.

"Come, let's get you to bed," he said a bit more insistently than he'd meant. She snapped the book shut and set it down on a pile, nodding politely and following him through the rest of the tunnel.

She worried her lip between her teeth again as they trekked quietly up to the second portal. Loki tried to ignore her nerves as he led her through and to her chamber door.

"Loki," Adora called out quietly, slowing as they approached the tall gilded frame. She squeezed his hand tightly as he turned to look down at her.

She was so small, waifish and light, her dark skin and big hair shining like copper in the candlelight. She hardly reached his chest, her hand held up even though his was as far down as he could leave it without crouching.

Adora swallowed thickly, her warm eyes flicking back and forth up to his gaze and down to his chest. His shift in tone had left her confidence far behind in the tunnels, and guilt swelled in his gut from doing that to her.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said, pulling the book out from under her arm and waving it a bit. “Something for us to talk about.”

She pulled away before he could respond, slipping through her chamber door and shutting it quickly behind her. Loki stared at the spot she occupied for a long moment, wishing she were still there so he didn’t feel like such an arsehole.

She had no interest in playing games with him, and as enjoyable and time consuming as it would be for Loki, he found himself with little desire to make her play with him.

If she was to be by his side for the next twenty years, perhaps she would be better as an ally and not an in-bed enemy. Perhaps they could be friends… talk about books and childhood stories instead.

He had been right in his earlier declaration to Hela. His father was the enemy in this tale of woe and deceit. Odin had used him as a pawn, Adora and the child she only wished to protect as well. It enraged him, as this woman had only shown a desire to help her people and his.

On top of it all, Loki despised being toyed with. His father was making a move, one to rid Loki of a future where he was happy being responsible only for himself. He would say it was for the people of Asgard, but Loki knew it was just to save his own face.

The Trickster had been tricked.

Now it was Loki’s turn to play.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Notes: o.O Do you think they'll get along better soon?

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@kbakery @huntress-artemiss