#which leads me to retreat & stay isolated

[radgeorgie]

god, I'm not a rageful person, but there is a red gaze I look out of when my mom sits silent right next to me.

[lady-griffin]

Possible Idea for the Firelights in S2

Which I’ve fallen way too much in love with, btw

After the Firelight Base is attacked, where do they go?

Do they just go back to their broken, destroyed home? Try to fix it up? Can they even go back?

Do they disperse?

Or do they go to a location most people (especially those from topside) would have difficulty navigating if they didn’t know exactly where to go?

Like an abandoned mine of sorts? One with really large, giant machines suspended in the air that could be used as little community hubs, perfectly accessible for those with hoverboards?

It’s just something to consider.

Seriously, I can’t express how much I love the idea of Jinx’s lair becoming the new base for the Firelights. I love it way too much; I’m going to be crushed when it doesn't happen (which to be fair is totally on me).

The old mines would be perfect for the Firelights, especially in helping them recover and giving them a sense of extra protection and security after what they’ve gone through.

Maybe it’s not permanent, but it doesn't have to be, it allows them to stay together, so it’s home for the moment

Destroying their base, likely making them scared to return, is an ingenious way to physically separate a group of people who are loyal to one another and fight well together, but this way they wouldn’t have to disperse.

It seems like the mines are well-hidden and isolated, with a lot of natural defenses – it’s been abandoned for a long time, there’s probably a complicated tunnel system to the cavern, and it has multiple physical locations (the drill/fans we’ve seen) that others (their enemies) can’t easily get to.

There are probably a few like Jinx’s lab, where they connect to the tunnels that lead outside, but the few we’ve seen in the background, seem pretty inaccessible – unless you’re a group of people who can fly.

There’s also the idea of Piltover and Noxus winning the day and those who’ve been pushed to live underground having to retreat further down to be safe.

But it’s not a defeat, it’s just a retreat. They’re still here.

I also really love the idea of how this place once represented darkness and the abyss, basically daring you to look down, especially when compared to Ekko's original base for the Firelights, representing light and hope, encouraging you to look up.

It’s still the same place it was in S1, but it's changed with all these other people sharing it with Jinx.

Not because she was forced to, but because she chose to open her space to others, one that was solely hers and we only saw her and Silco there.

But now it's filled with others, who've impacted and changed it with their own touches of color and graffiti and when we look, we see there are all these little pockets of light and color in the dark abyss.

There's still darkness, but it's no longer all consuming.

And I don't know, the idea just warms my heart so much, and I really, really want to see it.

Also, I can’t fully tell, but when Ekko is pulling the chain in the trailer, the area is dark and it could be a cave. So, maybe? Again, it’s hard to tell.

Seriously though, I love this idea so goddamn much!

[theomnilegent]

2024 Upcoming Sapphic Fiction I’m Excited For! 🏳️‍🌈

Here are the top nine sapphic books I'm looking forward to for 2024! This year I'm excited to see how much more diversity there is amongst sapphic fiction - racial diversity, physical diversity, gender and sexuality diversity! Every year we get more and more books featuring a wider range of characters, and it makes me delighted every time.

2024 seems to be the year of the butch and otherwise gender non-conforming sapphic characters! There is even, much to my joy, a book about drag kings! I've been wanting a book about drag kings since I first started reading sapphic fiction, so I'm so pleased that one finally exists!

Below you'll find Goodreads links and summaries to each book. As always, this list is only a starting point - if you want to find more sapphic fiction, there's plenty to find on Goodreads and StoryGraph!

Furious by Jamie Pacton

After years racing go-karts and looking up to her mother, a celebrity Nascar racer, Jojo Emerson-Boyd should be starting her own racing career. But when she loses her mom in a tragic crash, Jojo’s future comes to a screeching halt. Now her dad won’t let her get a license, much less race. Instead, she’s stuck working at her grandmother’s mechanic shop in the sleepy small town of Dell’s Hollow.

But Jojo’s heart quickens when Motorcycle Girl Eliana “El” Blum shows up at the shop. El grew up on the motocross circuit sidelines, watching her sister and idol Maxine compete. When El mysteriously loses all contact with Max, she’s determined to find her, with her first clue leading straight to the mechanic shop, and to Jojo.

United by fate, the two quickly bond over Mario Kart showdowns and the Fast & Furious films. As their friendship shifts into something more, they’ll have to confront both their growing romance and the grief woven into their complicated families if they hope to chase down their dreams and make it across the finish line.

How You Get the Girl by Anita Kelly When smart-mouthed Vanessa Lerner joins the high school basketball team Julie Parker coaches, Julie’s ready for the challenge. What she’s not ready for is Vanessa’s new foster parent, Elle Cochrane—former University of Tennessee basketball star. While star-struck at first, soon Julie persuades Elle to step into the unfilled position of assistant coach for the year.  Even though Elle has stayed out of the basketball world since an injury ended her short-lived WNBA career, the gig might be a way to become closer to Vanessa—and to spend more time with Julie, who makes Elle laugh. As the coaches grow closer, Elle has a hard time understanding how Julie is single. When Julie reveals her lifelong insecurity about dating and how she wishes it was more like sports—being able to practice first—it sparks an intriguing idea. While Elle still doubts her abilities as a basketball coach, helping Julie figure out dating is definitely something she can do. But as the basketball season progresses, and lines grow increasingly blurred, Julie and Elle must decide to join the game—or retreat to the sidelines.

Late Bloomer by Mazey Eddings

Winning the lottery has ruined Opal Devlin’s life. After quitting her dead-end job where she’d earned minimum wage and even less respect, she’s bombarded by people knocking at her door for a handout the second they found out her bank account was overflowing with cash. And Opal can’t seem to stop saying yes.

With her tender heart thoroughly abused, Opal decides to protect herself by any means necessary, which to her translates to putting almost all her new money to buying a failing flower farm in Asheville, North Carolina to let the flowers live out their plant destiny while she uses the cabin on the property to start her painting business.

But her plans for isolation and self-preservation go hopelessly awry when an angry (albeit gorgeous) Pepper Smith is waiting for her at her new farm. Pepper states she’s the rightful owner of Thistle and Bloom Farms, and isn’t moving out. The unlikely pair strike up an agreement of co-habitation, and butt-heads at every turn. Can these opposites both live out their dreams and plant roots? Or will their combustible arguing (and growing attraction) burn the whole place down?

A Banh Mi for Two by Trinity Nguyen

In Sài Gòn, Lan is always trying to be the perfect daughter, dependable and willing to care for her widowed mother and their bánh mì stall. Her secret passion, however, is A Bánh Mì for Two, the food blog she started with her father, but has stopped updating since his passing.

Meanwhile, Vietnamese American Vivi Huynh, has never been to Việt Nam. Her parents rarely even talk about the homeland that clearly haunts them. So Vivi secretly goes to Vietnam for a study abroad program her freshman year of college. She’s determined to figure out why her parents left, and to try everything she’s seen on her favorite food blog, A Bánh Mì for Two.

When Vivi and Lan meet in Sài Gòn, they strike a deal. Lan will show Vivi around the city, helping her piece together her mother’s story through crumbling photographs and old memories. Vivi will help Lan start writing again so she can enter a food blogging contest. And slowly, as they explore the city and their pasts, Vivi and Lan fall in love.

The No-Girlfriend Rule by Christen Randall

Hollis Beckwith isn’t trying to get a girl—she’s just trying to get by. For a fat, broke girl with anxiety, the start of senior year brings enough to worry about. And besides, she already has a Chris. Their relationship isn’t particularly exciting, but it’s comfortable and familiar, and Hollis wants it to survive beyond senior year. To prove she’s a girlfriend worth keeping, Hollis decides to learn Chris’s favorite tabletop roleplaying game, Secrets & Sorcery—but his unfortunate “No Girlfriends at the Table” rule means she’ll need to find her own group if she wants in.

Gloria Castañeda and her all-girls game of S&S! Crowded at the table in Gloria’s cozy Ohio apartment, the six girls battle twisted magic in-game and become fast friends outside it. With her character as armor, Hollis starts to believe that maybe she can be more than just fat, anxious, and a little lost.

But then an in-game crush develops between Hollis’s character and the bard played by charismatic Aini Amin-Shaw, whose wide, cocky grin makes Hollis’s stomach flutter. As their gentle flirting sparks into something deeper, Hollis is no longer sure what she wants…or if she’s content to just play pretend.

We Got the Beat by Jenna Miller

Jordan Elliot is a fat, nerdy lesbian, and the first junior to be named editor-in-chief of the school newspaper. Okay, that last part hasn’t happened yet, but it will. It’s positive thinking that has gotten Jordan this far. Ever since Mackenzie West, her friend-turned-enemy, humiliated her at the start of freshman year, Jordan has thrown herself into journalism and kept her eyes trained on the future.

So it’s a total blow when Jordan discovers that she not only didn’t get the editor-in-chief spot, but she’s been assigned the volleyball beat instead. And who is the star and new captain of the volleyball team? Mackenzie West. But words are Jordan’s weapon, and she has some ideas about how to exact a long-awaited revenge on her nemesis.

Then things get murky when forced time together has Mack and Jordan falling back into their friendship, and into something more. And when Mack confesses the real reason she turned on Jordan freshman year, it has Jordan questioning everything—past, present, and future. If Jordan lets her guard down and Mack in, will she get everything she wants, or will she be humiliated all over again?

Playing for Keeps by Jennifer Dugan

June is the star pitcher of her elite club baseball team—with an ego to match—and she's a shoo-in to be recruited at the college level, like her parents have always envisioned. That is, if she can play through an overuse injury that has recently gone from bad to worse.

Ivy isn't just reffing to pay off her athletic fees or make some extra cash on the side. She wants to someday officiate at the professional level, even if her parents would rather she go to college instead.

The first time they cross paths, Ivy throws June out of a game for grandstanding. Still, they quickly grow from enemies to begrudging friends . . . and then something more. But the rules state that players and umpires are prohibited from dating.

As June's shoulder worsens, and a rival discovers the girls' secret and threatens to expose them, everything the two have worked so hard for is at risk. Now both must follow their dreams . . . or follow their hearts?

The Summer Love Strategy by Ray Stoeve

Hayley always has a crush. The problem is, her crushes never like her back. After her latest unrequited love—a girl from her basketball team—gets a boyfriend, she decides she’s done falling for girls who are unavailable. Her best friend, Talia, wants romance too, but rarely gets crushes on anyone, and she’s tired of watching Hayley get her heart stomped on over and over. So the two girls make a they’ll help each other find summer love by putting themselves in situations that always lead to romance in movies.

To help carry out their summer love strategy, they make a list of all the places they could find their real-life the beach, the Pride parade, the pool, a MUNA concert, and a party. But as they go to each place and try to find the one , it seems like they just can’t catch a break—they don’t know how to talk to cute strangers, someone mistakes Hayley as straight, and Hayley does a truly unfortunate DIY haircut (that she cannot be held responsible for––it was a crisis!). But when Talia and Hayley finally manage to score dates, will they be able to get out of their own way and really dive into the romances they deserve? Or is summer love not as far off as Hayley thought?

Don't Be a Drag by Skye Quinlan

When eighteen-year-old Briar Vincent's mental health takes a turn for the worst, her parents send her to spend the summer in New York City with her older brother, Beau, also known as the drag queen Bow Regard.

Backstage at the gay bar where Beau performs, Briar just wants to be a fly on the wall, but she can't stand by when the cute but conceited drag king Spencer Read tries to put down another up-and-coming performer. To prove to him that even a brand-new performer could knock him off his pedestal, Briar signs up for the annual drag king competition.

There's just one flaw in her plan: Briar has never done drag before.

With the help of her brother and a few new friends, Briar becomes Edgar Allan Foe, a drag king hellbent on taking Spencer down. But unless she can learn how to shake her anxiety and perform, she doesn't stand a chance of winning Drag King of the Year, overcoming her depression and inner demons, or avoiding falling for her enemy, who might not be so bad after all.

[shakingparadigm]

Hello it's the anon who said about the Ivan collar thing 😭. I come with some little brainrots.

Mizi sang "Black Sorrow" as a solo cover for unrequited love, with Sua being dead.

But the cover made me think. What if somehow Sua, in a way, is the Till to Mizi's Ivan. What if Sua, even if she loves Mizi back, never really fully indulged in it.

Specially in "My Clematis" where Mizi regarded Sua as a god, all I can imagine is Sua who always kept a perfect image in front of everyone including Mizi. Sua who never really showed her vulnerability to Mizi even though the other girl bared her entire heart. Just the idea that she somewhat kept a mask of pretend, letting Mizi be as blissful as it can be before the inevitable.

Aka tragic Yuri breaking my heart that Sua had to keep her own planned death a secret from her beloved because of one (and only) little selfish wish, which is to let Mizi live.

(Also sorry for spamming asks this frequently! I've been going through ALNST hyperfixations and your blog have a great humor.)

DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR SPAMMING ASKS! they make me really happy! Thank you so much! Sorry it takes me a while to answer them sometimes, my brains been pretty messy as of late, and I keep losing track of time.

That's a really interesting perspective to see it from. Regarding their relationship as a whole, I actually think it was the opposite. Sua only ever opened up to Mizi, and to everyone else she was timid and closed off. That was one of the reasons why their bond was so strong, they clung to each other. Sua retreats into herself, avoiding others in an attempt to protect her soft-hearted feelings, only sticking to Mizi because she loved and trusted her most. Mizi loved Sua like a dog because she was a cure for her loneliness back when Mizi felt isolated and afraid of being away from her home. They gave each other everything, which is why the thought of Mizi dying filled Sua with so much anguish that she'd rather die herself.

But if we're talking about the few weeks leading up to the first round of ALNST (you probably meant this, my bad) then definitely. She spent the last of her life counting down the hours, putting on a brave face and trying to make the remainder of her time with Mizi the best it could possibly be. I assume it was Mizi that proposed a tie. Sua played along, or maybe even believed in it at first, because ALIEN STAGE was something that they both looked forward to their whole lives, something that was held over their heads like a reward instead of the death sentence it actually was. Sua most likely started planning her death after she realized the possible consequences. The thing is, according to the MiziSua interview, a tie had never happened before in ALIEN STAGE. Which means that we don't know what happens if a tie actually does occur. It seems unlikely that ALIEN STAGE, which derives its stakes from the deaths of the contestants, would let both go forward thanks to a tie. I mean, if that happened, then everyone else would just decide to tie in order to keep each other alive, and where's the fun in a deathless season? Where's the stakes in that? It goes against everything ALIEN STAGE is built on. If a tie did happen, they most likely would have forced a situation where one of them would have to die anyway. It just lengthens the process and makes it more complicated. I like to think that, at some point, Sua realized this. If they tie, there's no guarantee that they both stay alive. In a tie situation, they might even randomly pick the contestant to be eliminated. The circumstances are uncertain and unpredictable, and within those hypotheticals Mizi dying is always an option. But if Sua adjusts her own performance level without Mizi knowing, she can ensure that the only person who has to die is herself. As stated before, Sua is soft-hearted. Her blank demeanor is indeed a mask for overwhelming feelings that lie beneath the surface. Mizi worships Sua, but Sua loves Mizi an incredible amount too. She must have loved her so much that Ivan, an exceedingly observant asshole (affectionate), picked up on it and was able to discern her intentions. Ivan criticizes Sua for choosing to sacrifice herself, calling her out for "playing hero", but most importantly, accusing her of dying only because she herself cannot handle the pain of losing someone she loves. She cannot fathom living a life where Mizi is dead, so she "runs away" from it by any means possible. He accuses her of being a hypocrite because the future that pains her to think about is one that she is about to inflict on her beloved. Is it an act of love or an act of selfishness? Is Ivan twisting her genuinely pure intentions and chastising her into believing that it makes her a bad person? Despite being hit with this crisis and crying over it, Sua decides to sacrifice herself anyway. And her happy mask was so impressive that Mizi failed to notice she was digging her own grave.

Sua not "indulging" in her love for Mizi is actually really interesting, and I can see how it can come off that way because Mizi is much more affectionate. But I actually think otherwise!

I think it's not really that she refused to indulge in her love, rather she indulged in it so much that she died to ensure she'd never have to live without it.

[curryfury13]

KHOC Week Day 6 - Journal

This has been a prompt for @khoc-week that I've been so excited about. Hinata keeps journals of her adventures as a way to keep track of her memories. She's forgotten large chunks of her past before and wants to make sure that can never happen again.

Her journals, however, are a bit different from a normal diary. She writes them like a story and also draws pictures in them to show where she is. She's not an incredibly gifted artist, but learned a few things from her time with Namine.

This is an excerpt of her journal entry during a short stay on Montressor. In Chapter 41 of "The Forgotten Traveler", Hinata and her team find themselves back on Montressor in search of information on Sam's dad. It leads them back to the Benbow, where Sam's mom holds the missing piece.

The actual chapter was written from Sam's point of view, but this journal entry is Hinata's take on it all. I'll post the entire entry below:

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

The Benbo Inn was filled with warmth and life. Sarah Hawkins always did have a way of making people feel welcome. She kept our booth open. I remember sitting there after my shift, or whenever Sam and James would come during my work day and convince me to take a break. Tonight though, it lacked the usual excitement it used to.

While the rest of the inn bustled and chatted, we were there for something different. Sam needed to talk with her mom. It wasn't going to be easy and it made me queasy to think about. Jenna was someone I couldn't figure out. Her eyes showed a vast emptiness, yet I could sense something deeper. It made me sad for her. Though I could understand the anger Sam held towards her. Two years of isolation… What could that do to someone? I went crazy during my month alone on Treasure Planet. Well, mostly alone.

As Ben and I took our seats, Sam went to her mom. Her words were short and terse, telling her they needed to talk after closing time, then she came back to the booth with us. I wish I could have said something to help. Part of me wished I could have taken care of the entire thing for her. But that wouldn't help anything. It was something she needed to face on her own.

Knowing that, I asked if she wanted us there during the discussion, which she said yes to. All that remained was for us to eat dinner and wait. But even with the great food from Sarah, I didn't have much of an appetite. Sam didn't seem to either. While Ben kept the conversation going, mostly with himself. I'm glad he was there.

It was agonizing to wait. I kept drumming my fingers against the table and I'm pretty sure my leg wouldn't stop shaking. Then closing time finally came. I helped Jenna and Sarah clean up. It was just like I was working there again. But then it was time to talk.

Jenna brought over a chair and carefully folded her apron over the back of it before she sat down. She sat on the edge, her back straight. It was like she was trying to seem stronger than she felt. Sam brought out a locket. It looked similar to mine but was made from a bluish metal. I didn't recognize the engraving on top, not that it entirely matters. Jenna seemed to though. I noticed her shifting in her seat at the sight of it. Did she know what was inside it?

Sam asked if she'd seen the vision and Jenna just nodded. Not a word came out of her. Sam continued to pry and Jenna's entire demeanor shifted. Her posture slumped and that distant glaze came back over her eyes. There was more to this. Even with the possibility of getting Jarith back, she didn't react. It only made her retreat further back into herself. What was really going on?

There was something deeper. Something even Sam didn't seem to understand and realize. The raw pain between them was palpable. It didn't take long for Sam to lose her temper. She slammed her hands against the table, demanding answers. Jenna begged her not to look into this and got up from her seat to leave.

I couldn't sit by anymore and got out of my seat, while Lupe took care of calming Sam down. Jenna could hardly stand. She leaned against the tables for support as she walked away. I moved to stand in front of her and all I saw was a broken woman. Everything she did… she abandoned her children when they needed her most, ignored them when they pleaded for help and even for something as simple as love, and locked herself away for nearly two years. Why didn't I share Sam's resentment towards her? There had to be more to it. More that we didn't understand about Jenna.

All I had to say to Jenna was acknowledge she was trying to protect Sam. She broke down. Sam was all she had left.

Sam cried that if that was the case, why did she never care?

It was a valid question. One Jenna didn't have an answer to. Whatever is going on with her, maybe Jarith will have the answer. We have to find him.

Lupe and I calmed Jenna down enough to let Sam back in for another chance to talk. We promised her that we'd get him back… Maybe that was a foolish thing to promise, but it seemed like the only choice at the time. I know I'll do everything in my power to do it. We all will.

Sam tried again. She knelt in front of Jenna and offered the locket once more. She pleaded softly, begging for any information about her dad. And Jenna did… she told us the name Glee Anselm. That's where we'll find Sam's dad.

We have quite the journey ahead of us.

[callivich]

Gallavich Nature & Wilderness Prompts 🌿

Prompts for fics, headcanons, or discussion, art, etc. Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt! If any fics like any of these have already been written, please feel free to recommend them to me!

Mickey’s on the run from the cops. He needs a place to stay until the heat dies down. A small logging town seems his best bet. Even better, the logging company needs workers - cash in hand and no questions asked. How hard can logging be? Turns out - very and his hot boss, Ian, with his flannel shirts and rugged beard, doesn’t help matters.

The lighthouse stands on an isolated, dangerous point. Mickey’s worked there ten years and he’s scared off every single guy who’s come to work there. He prefers to run the lighthouse in solitude. His boss disagrees and keeps sending people. Ian’s the latest one and he doesn’t find Mickey scary in the slightest. In fact, he finds him kind of funny and this is definitely not the image Mickey is trying to project.

Ian and Mickey barely know each other but they’re paired up for their company’s nature retreat. That means sharing a tent in the middle of a forest for a long weekend. Each pair is given a different set of coordinates and they have to camp there for four days in isolation. Mickey doesn’t see why they can’t just pretend they went and stay at home, Ian wants to use his ROTC training and do everything by the book. It’s going to be a long few days.

Best friends for as long as they can remember, Ian and Mickey are about to leave middle school and enter high school. But when things at home get bad for both of them, they decide to run away. Should be simple, right? And how hard can it be to survive on their own? Turns out living off the grid in the nearest forest is pretty tricky and two city kids are not cut out for it.

Mickey’s stolen a bunch of cash and he needs somewhere to hide it. Deciding that a state forest is a good place, he digs a hole and buries the money. Ian is a park ranger who keeps seeing a suspicious man entering the forest late at night. He watches the man for a few weeks, curious as to what he’s doing. By the time he realises the man is hiding (probably) stolen money it’s too late because he’s got a crush.

Ian doesn’t end up going to jail for arson, which is a good thing because Mickey ends up in witness protection rather than prison. He finds himself under an assumed name, working at a hotel in the depths of a national park. When the hotel offers a raffle to win a weekend stay for people who leave their business cards, he can’t help but rig it so Ian wins. Meanwhile, Ian is confused about how and why he’s won a weekend away at a hotel he’s never been to, in an area he’s never visited. Still….it’s free so he goes and is greeted by a very familiar face.

Mickey has always been able to grow things. It comes naturally but it’s a rare talent. Because of this, he hides it. Ian has always dreamt of growing vegetables and flowers and has spent his life trying to cultivate them. He’s not had much luck on his allotment so far, until one day he does. Mickey has always been drawn to new growth and unfortunately he lives next to a communal garden. He’s done a good job of suppressing his powers but he can’t help but encourage the redhead’s plants.

It’s supposed to be a fun weekend camping in the woods, celebrating their second wedding anniversary, but a wrong turn and bad cell signal leads them to get lost. Then things get worse - the weather changes, one of them gets sick/injured, and they wonder if they’re gonna make it to their third year of marriage.

Ian has a new job for the parks department and his first task is a month long stay at an isolated lakeside cabin to monitor the wildlife. He’s looking forward to the peace and quiet. What he’s not expecting is that there is a guy squatting in the cabin. Mickey’s illegally hooked up to cable and wifi and has a massive store of food and booze. Oh and he’s not leaving just because some parks department dork has shown up.

Mickey is stranded and injured in the woods after his dog ran off. Ian is the search and rescue guy that finds him. But Mickey isn’t leaving without his beloved dog and if that means going deeper into the woods, then that’s what he’ll do. Ian tries to promise him that the rest of the team will find Mickey’s pet, but Mickey just will not let himself be rescued. Looks like Ian is going to have to stick with him.

Ian’s been training for the ROTC survival weekend but when he and his siblings get taken by the DCFS, he’s not allowed to go. Mickey knows how much this retreat means to Ian, it’s all he talks about, so he decides to surprise Ian. He promises him a weekend at his place, but when he shows up to get Ian, he drives him to the forest. Their weekend turns out less survival based and more romantic than either of them could imagine.

The desert is comfortable, a place where people can disappear. And that’s what Mickey likes. He can run from his life in Chicago and enjoy the anonymity of being a bartender in the middle of nowhere. He likes the quiet nights where he can smoke outside and there’s no one and nothing around for miles except stars. But then a guy from Chicago starts to frequent the bar and this guy, Ian, despite being a stranger, is bringing up far too many memories of city life. Memories that he thought he’d blocked out….

Mickey is the groundskeeper for a summer camp. He’s looking forward to the two weeks of quiet before the chaos of summer. He’s planning on doing his final bits of work all by himself. Ian is the overeager camp counsellor who shows up early by accident. Mickey is pissed but there’s nothing he can do. As things are not completely set up yet, Ian has to share Mickey’s cabin.

When their school offers a field trip for low-income students, Ian jumps at the chance and manages to convince Mickey to go along too. It’s an overnight trip to an island on Lake Michigan. Everything goes fine until the morning they’re supposed to leave. Ian and Mickey wander off to have some alone time and end up being left on the island. By the time their teacher realises, it’s too late to go back so they’ll have to spend a night in the wilderness.

Ian’s never heard of equine assisted therapy and it sounds expensive and daunting. But his therapist thinks it will be good for him and they’ve found a charity that offers extremely discounted lessons. Besides, they say it’s just learning to ride a horse, not any sort of special training, so how hard can it be? Mickey’s worked at a stables on the outskirts of the city for several years after his juvie parole officer gave him the choice between that and working in a factory. He’s never taught anyone to ride but when the instructor for the specialist program leaves abruptly, Mickey finds himself teaching a handsome redhead everything there is to know about horses….

Mickey’s a tattoo artist who has lost his inspiration. When a city-wide competition offers a cash prize that could save his studio, he enters despite not having done a good tattoo in awhile. He wanders the city looking for anything to inspire him and comes across an exotic plant centre. Ian is curious about the new customer who begins to come in regularly - not buying anything, just looking closely at the plants and rudely telling Ian he doesn’t need any help. When he eventually does share his story, Ian is intrigued and decides to find Mickey the perfect flower to inspire him.

[bellaswan-kinnie]

succession characters as colors

now that I've graduated college and I have time I wanted to apply some color theory to the baby girls and silly little guys of HBO's Succession before the finale sends me to a mental institution :)

KENDALL ROY: BLUE

represents: melancholia, water, transparency, isolation

All the sad music girlies are always singing about being painted/colored blue and I'm convinced they're specifically talking about Kendall Roy. This little girl has such deep sadness in his eyes, he reminds me of a wet dog.

Speaking of wet this man is always near or in water. Water has obviously been an important recurring narrative setting for Kendall ever since the incident with the waiter's drowning, so whenever Kendall is shown near water we are reminded of his inner turmoil.

The color blue's association with water also carries themes of reflectivity and clarity. In his relationships, all Kendall wants is to be seen, known, and truly understood (i.e. the Naomi watch fiasco).

Kendall is often framed by vast expanses of blue, typically in the form of the sky or water. This visually evokes a lonely ship isolated at sea, representing his tendency to push others away and retreat into himself.

SHIV ROY: RED

represents: rage, hunger, initiative

As we saw in 4x02 during the final confrontation with Logan, Shiv is the Roy sibling who gets angry (and I love her for it). Being the only girl in the family meant she was always left out of the family business, leading to a lot of anger and frustration.

Logan's nickname for Shiv is "Pinky." The color pink is a lighter version of red and is strongly tied to femininity, reflecting how Shiv's strengths and capabilities have been diluted and downplayed by her father.

Red is an intense color, often associated with strong emotions like lust, rage, hunger, and ambition. Shiv wants to be CEO so badly, and we see her struggle and sacrifice for it even more than her brothers do, likely because she was never told before season 2 that she even had a chance.

Shiv's hair is also red lol.

ROMAN ROY: YELLOW

represents: mania, frivolity, naïveté, cowardice

There are lots of things wrong with Roman Roy. It is heavily implied that Roman was abused by Logan as a child, possibly the only one of his siblings to suffer physical abuse. This has left him stuck in his childhood in many ways, still hanging onto the idea of familial love. Yellow is commonly assigned to children.

To be "yellow-bellied" is to be cowardly, and Roman often backs down during confrontations with his father, like during the board vote in season 1.

Roman's comical nature also relates to the color yellow, which is seen as jovial and vibrant.

CONNOR ROY: GREY

represents: neutrality, somberness, age

Famously in the Switzerland camp with Bella Swan, Connor prefers to stay out of the conflicts between his younger siblings. The color grey itself is a neutral, just a mix of black and white, often carrying ideas of emptiness and somberness that align with Connor's resolution to give up trying to win the love of his family.

Connor is excluded from the trio of primary colors, his siblings. He has less vibrancy and ambition than them (except for the presidency lol) but he's never taken an interest in Waystar. He's also much older than the other Roy kids, the offspring of an earlier marriage, marked by his completely greyed hair. This visually separates him and further evokes the role of father he's taken on in the younger kids' lives.

LOGAN ROY: BLACK

represents: wealth, dominance, severity

Before the invention of synthetic dyes, black clothing was among the most expensive to produce. Nowadays, black is the color of "stealth wealth," reflecting the severity of corporate America and the desire to appear sophisticated and classic.

In color theory, the combination of the three primary colors (represented by Kendall, Roman, and Shiv) in equal proportions creates black. This represents how each of the kids have adopted different aspects of his personality.

The darkness and harshness of the color black perfectly captures Logan's energy. He often sucks the life out of every room he's in like a black hole, consuming the people in his life with his pessimism and capitalistic priorities.

TOM WAMBSGANS: GREEN

represents: lack of experience, greed, envy

Babygirl Tom Wambsgans craves money and status, commonly associated with the color green, but he comes from more humble beginnings than every other character. Shiv and other members of the family often remind him of this, making "farm boy" related jokes, associating him with the dirtier, earthier parts of life rather than sophisticated corporate New York.

Additionally, calling someone "green" means they're a newbie, a label that applies to both Tom and Greg.

GREGORY HIRSCH: NEON GREEN

(pretend it's a different green pls)

represents: artificiality, childishness, attention-whore tendencies

Greg is very closely linked to Tom, but he's far more transparent in his desire to climb the social ladder. Personally, neon green is offensive to my eyes, which I thought was in line with Greg's characterization within the show and how he's perceived by everyone else.

Greg is also the youngest and least-experienced character, while also being physically largest, making him stick out like a giant sore thumb.

[rosesradio]

portwell after camp and they’re neigborhoods

hi ! good morning :-) or evening, whatever it is for you. at first i read this and was like 'yeah that's a sentance/concept' before i realized that maybe. just maybe. it was a drabble prompt. because i do those lol. anyways, this one made me a little feral because i saw a post idea about it earlier but i forgot who posted it (feel free to lmk if you recognize the concept), and this ended up being a little over 1k words, so !! without further rambling, enjoy !

AU: EJ stays in Salt Lake; He and Gina are neighbors; Gina and Ricky are not dating/do not have feelings for each other (oh no portbowell :') )

"Shit!" Gina whispered to herself, running out to the sidewalk just as the school bus was pulling out of the neighborhood. It wasn't her fault it had to come so early; in a couple months, when she had her license and a car, she could leave the house a little later. For now, though, adjusting to the back to school schedule was brutal, and one-too-many times of running out of the house last minute had to lead to getting ditched.

She pulled out her phone, ready to call someone; Ashlyn, maybe, or Kourtney? Gina hated asking people for favors; she was self-sufficient for in getting the bus, but she couldn't just skip school.

"Hey," A familiar voice called, and Gina looked up to see EJ jogging over. His hair looked ruffled, as if he hadn't quite finished styling it, as off-brand as that was. He was also wearing sweatpants with a baggy shirt that read Gimme A Beat in faded pink letters.

Gina wasn't sure how to feel, seeing EJ. Her ex. There wasn't any animosity there that Gina knew of, but it was still awkward. Awkward and ironic, because after all the Success School drama, EJ ended up staying. (Which, one would think--if this were a Disney movie--they would get back together immediately. But things didn't work that way sometimes.)

"Hey?" Gina asked uncertainly. "What's up?"

"I noticed you missed the bus," EJ nodded in the direction of the retreating bus. He had a hand on his hips, absent-mindedly playing with a keychain on his car keys, which he'd brought with him. "Thought maybe you'd need a ride."

"Oh," Gina started. Honestly, she was just surprised to see him up. She hadn't thought about it--okay, so she thought about it here and there--that he'd still be asleep at this time. But he was up--tired, but awake. And offering her a favor she might not get from someone else. "Yeah, okay."

"Cool," EJ smiled slightly, heading in the direction of his car, Gina following. Just like that. He even opened the door for her, making a grand sweeping gesture of it, like the goofy prince he used to be.

"So," Gina started once they were both in the car. "What are you doing up right now? I thought you could do your schoolwork whenever."

EJ had mentioned that the last time they'd talked, when they both just-so-happened to be getting the mail at the same time. EJ didn't go to the Success School, so now he was living with his mom while he worked his way through online community college. Apparently, the classes didn't even have meet-up times, something Gina was incredibly envious of. If Gina could sleep in until ten, no one would ever catch her up at 6:30.

"I can, I just like to maintain a good schedule so I'm not tempted to slack off," EJ explained, wrapping an arm around the back of Gina's seat to check behind him, backing out when the coast was clear. "When I get things done earlier, I have more time to...bask in the joys of self isolation."

Gina frowned at the thought. EJ had been in half a dozen clubs in school and had a good group of friends--and now he didn't even have college classmates. She'd have to invite him to something the drama club was doing sometime.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, looking over at his profile as he watched the road. Even now, like this, he was pretty. There was no denying that.

"Don't be," EJ shrugged. "It's an interesting lifestyle. I'm discovering the joys of polymer clay art. I got all these little tools off amazon, and I made a little cow and a smiling mushroom--"

"Okay, we have got to get you out of the house," Gina couldn't help but laugh, which prompted EJ to laugh, and it filled her with warmth at the idea that she had not had fun with EJ in a really long time.

"We?" EJ asked once the laughter faded, a smile still gracing his face.

"Yeah," Gina replied. "I mean...it's a two-person job, at least. Maybe you could join a clay art club at the senior center."

EJ gave another soft laugh, and the two sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

Then: "Gi?" EJ asked, breaking the silence.

"Hm?"

"Do you wanna know the real reason I was up?" EJ continued, nerves creeping into his voice.

Gina's brows furrowed in confusion. Being up early to do schoolwork seemed like EJ, nothing more to it. But even so. "Sure."

"I..." EJ appeared to struggle for the right phrasing. "I've been getting up early every morning on school days--and, I mean, I am working on schoolwork, but I purposely work at the coffee table by the window. I make sure you make it on the bus okay--and sometimes I go back to bed after that." He said humorously. "But I just wanted to be there, in case you missed the bus. There's been a lot of close calls, you know, you should really try to get out of the house sooner."

"Oh," Gina replied, a silence spanning across them after that. She didn't know if it was just early and she was restless, but she found her eyes stinging. When she broke up with EJ, she'd told him he was no longer the guy that was gonna be there for you. But here he was, being there. Being there every day, whether she actually needed him or not. "Eej, I...I don't know what to say...thank you..."

"Don't mention it," EJ shrugged dismissively, as if Gina was not going to be rotating this notion in her mind for at least the next few hours. "Hey, you wanna go to Starbucks? We got some time, and I've got a craving for an overpriced caramel-coffee milkshake."

Gina grinned in that same old infectious was EJ always brought out of her. "If this is what happens every time I miss the bus, I'll have to wake up late more often.”

EJ glanced over at her thoughtfully then before looking back at the road with a matching smile. "I think I'd like that."

[andromedaexists]

Trick or Treat? 🦇

HI FERAL TIME TO FEED YOU I've made some changes to the Myth of Adonai (mostly spellcheck and like consistency stuff) SO HERE YOU GO BB

Growing up in the Church, Kit had always been surrounded by stories. Tales as old as time weaving stories about any and everything. 

He could vividly remember sitting in a circle in front of the old Priest of his Parish as he read parables to them. 

Those were some of his best memories from that time in his life, so when Benny asked if he wanted to join them today he jumped at the chance. 

He had lost his chance to lead these story time circles when he had dropped out of Seminary. While he never regretted that choice, he did miss this. He loved the way the kids’ eyes would light up as he told the parables, the way that they would hang on to every word and every motion of his hands as he told them. 

Now, though, he was sitting with his back pressed up against the book lined shelves of the Church’s library as he watched Benny calm the kids.

He watched as she desperately tried to wrangle the handful of restless children. When it became clear that this wouldn’t work, she instead said, “Now come, children. Let me tell yous a story…”

—

Long ago, before there were humans, there existed two Gods. 

One God, Adonai, ruled over the material. They created the world and everything on it, then left the heavens to come live among their creations.

The other God, Elohim, ruled over the spiritual. He is the Universe and the Universe is him. He granted Adonai’s creations the gift of a soul, so that they could have free will.

Under the guiding hand of Elohim, Adonai molded the creation in their image. With the blessing of a soul, this would come to be known as man, Adam in name. 

The last thing Adonai created before retreating was the Garden of Eden. A place for mankind to grow and be at peace. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

For what they didn’t know as they isolated themself in the remote stretches of woods was that Elohim had planted a thought in the mind of their creation. One that would end with the consumption of the Forbidden Fruit and the start of the Fall of Man.

[lost fragments]

… [The] light of Elohim had graced them, telling of the Son of Man that was soon to join them on Earth. They had been asked to oversee the newborn, guide him down the path of light to become humanity’s Messiah.

[lost fragments]

They cried. 

As they looked up at the sight of the Son of Man, sacrificed and resurrected once again, they cried. 

They cried for the torture that the child had to go through to become the Son of Man. They cried for the souls of their creations, which he had just saved. They cried for the salvation that would spread across the land.

Most importantly, they cried for what was to come. 

For they knew that without the Son of Man, that their creations would shun them. Declare them an outcast and punish them. And they were not ready…

[lost fragments]

Adonai, having retreated once again, found themselves graced with the light of Elohim. 

Tears fell from their eyes as He spoke into being a betrayal. 

An apology whispered into the wind as Hunters surrounded Adonai. A curse whispered back as they went down without a fight. After all, who could fight His will?

Seven long days and seven long nights the Hunters traveled. The God could do nothing but watch as they were brought before the Church they had helped create. 

For despite their involvement with the creation, they were unknown. They created out of love, and now that love was being repaid with cruelty. 

Into the cellar they were led. There they were chained and broken. And there they shall stay.

[daceydeath]

Gentle Saviour

pairing: bang chan x reader word count: 3k genre: angst and fluff with the barest speck of suggestiveness at the end

------

you have always dealt with insecurities and having a family life where your sense of worth is questioned leaves you with issues, good thing you have bang chan and his selfless support of you.

----- a/n: written entirely in lower case. also not totally edited so there may be some grammatical errors but i'm dyslexic so i mess spelling and grammar up sorry.

insecurity was something you had always dealt with. being run into the ground because of what you wanted, asked for or often even how you were made you constantly hyper aware of your flaws. the fact that it was usually at the hands of people you loved, trusted and adored made it all the worse, conditioning you into someone who could rarely ever trust that the people around you or whatever praise they may send your way. it made your relationship with yourself and others more difficult than it ever needed to be often leading to fights, tears and breakdowns. you felt isolated from the happiness you saw around you. resenting those who managed to feel happy with their lives.

meeting chan had only made it harder for you in some ways. He was so kind, so sweet and far too good a person to be wasting his time on you but he did and he always insisted he had no place he would rather be than with you. you had met by accident when he ducked into a small cafe to avoid photographers who were tailing him. looking for a place to sit that was out of the way he plopped himself down into the last table in the back corner half covered by the indoor plants that made the decor seem more homely. not noticing a bag already sitting on one of the chairs that you had left when you went to order your iced honey latte. when you approached the table it had surprised you to find him there but he had quickly apologised a look of guilt crossing his face as he planned where he could next hide. in an unexpected move on your behalf you had invited him to stay where he was you were only going to be reading anyway it didn't matter if there was another person with you. he had thanked you repeatedly his adorable dimples and smile lighting up his face. he seemed nice you had thought before retreating back into your head. when he felt it was safe to leave he did but not without thanking you again and sliding a note into your belongings with his name, a number and an email hopeful you would contact him.

that day had been a little over a year ago and although it had taken you a day to pluck up the courage to text him it had been a fateful decision that had turned your life around. at first it had just been texts back and forth then after a week or so he started calling you which was pleasant, his voice seemed to always melt away the stress you felt in your everyday life. after a month though he finally had some free time to actually catch up with you so you had leapt at the chance to actually see him, even if it was a little strange since all of your contact had been via your phone, he made you feel like you had been friends for years. made you feel safe and cared for and very quickly you had fallen for him.

"what are you thinking about" his voice bringing you back to the present to the quiet park you sat in together "you have been spacing out for a while now are you feeling alright?" he waited for your eyes to meet his before placing the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature

"im alright chan i'm just tired" you explained slowly smiling at him and he took his hand back and ran it through his blue hair "mum has just been really hard on me lately and my brother is alway on her side. it gets exhausting to be honest with you" chan furrowed his eyebrows are he frowned he knew you had a hard home life but it was increasingly oblivious that you were struggling more than you ever had

"what is it about this time? if you don't mind me asking that is" chan had always tried to get the details from you without pushing too hard he knew that would make it worse for you and he would never want that besides you were one of the the only people he knew that wasn't in the industry or family he wanted to keep you as close as he could. you gave him perspective, kept him grounded in a way that no one else did you were very special to him.

"just my life decisions nothing i do is ever good enough, my job doesn't pay enough, my education isn't good enough, i'm not smart enough and that i will never be pretty enough to marry well. just the usual really" you explained glumly "it's getting harder for me to ignore it nowadays it's just all the time i can't take much more of it"

"then don't" the blue haired boy exclaimed "come back to the dorm with me. just for the night the boys love you and i can totally stay on the couch or the floor" his quick verbal deluge surprised you. you had never stayed the night with chan you had fallen asleep on his shoulder watching movies before but he always woke you up and made sure you got home safe "on top of that your job isn't permanent you can get another one if you like and you are gorgeous so dating son't be hard for you"

"i can't do that what if someone at the company found out or worse one of those psycho fans of yours" your head was almost spinning at the suggestion you would love to stay at chan's for the night if you were honest you would love to stay with chan forever. he unwittingly had made you fall in love with him so soon after you met that you could never bring yourself to even imagine being with someone else preferring to be alone than with a guy who wasn't him. you were so caught up in the possibility of what could go wrong you had totally missed him calling you beautiful.

"yes you can and you will im not giving you the option tonight. you will come for dinner and a movie and then it will be too late and dangerous for you to go home so you will have to stay. the guys will back me up on this so don't make me call them" he was already texting the group chat to let them know what was happening. you sighed you knew that determined look chan was wearing on his face and it was pretty much impossible for anyone to change his mind once he decided that strongly something.

'ok chan if you're sure it will be ok" you agreed tentatively watching as his phone lit up with endless comments from the boys. felix was already starting on chocolate chip cookies for you all, lee know was asking about your food preferences and jeongin wanted to know what kind of movies you liked. they were darlings all of them and it almost hurt how grateful you were for them. getting to your feet you followed chan back towards the dorm being careful to keep enough space between you that no one could get the wrong idea.

you arrived at the dorm with chan after stopping to pick up a few ingredients that lee know needed for the dinner he had planned it was almost coming together so smoothly that you would have thought they had pre-planned this whole getting you to the dorm thing between them earlier. walking in you were quickly swamped by felix and changbin for cuddles as chan disappeared and while hyunjin made some tea for everyone.

"hyung said that you were having a bad day" seungmin stated quietly handing you a mug of the fesh hot tea

"thank you minnie i am not the best right now" you smiled up at him taking the warm mug in your hands

"do you want to talk about it?" felix whispered cuddling up to your left side

"it's just family stuff lixie i don't want to bore you all" you explained gently as each of the guys sat down around you with cups of tea "this i delicious tea jinnie" you murmured as you savour the flavour of the tea mixed with honey and warm milk

"it's not boring if its upset you" jeongin said as comforting as possible his voice soft and warm as he pouted at you. you thought about it for a moment as you felt several pairs of eyes on you as chan returned from his room and plopped himself down on your right side his arm instantly falling onto the back of the arm behind your head as he placed a black hoodie on your lap

"you said you were cold when we were getting here but since you haven't got anything with you just wear mine" he explained to answer the unsaid question on your lips smiling you detaingled yourself from felix and slipped it over your head. it was easily a few sizes too big for you since chan wore his hoodies on the oversized and baggy side anyway and it made you feel almost shy to be so small in his clothes.

"thanks channie" you whispered almost too quietly to hear feeling quite overwhelmed by the kindness they were all showing you. tears pricked your eyes and you blinked quickly trying to fend them off before any of them noticed even though you knew it was foolish they always noticed.

"nope no tears baby" Han announced as he launched across the coffee table to grab as many skzoos as he could before throwing them at you comedically. you giggled as you were battered around the head by a wolf chan and puppym while a bbokari sailed passed you and his chan in the face "sorry hyung but this is an emergency" he ducked but then continued to thow the plushies until all of them were around you or on you.

"my mother and my brother spend all their time trying to run me down. its getting harder to ignore that's all" you explained looking and the jiniret in your hands "my job isn't good enough, i'm not smart enough, i'm not educated enough and i'm not pretty enough to get a rich husband. which by the way is the stupidest thing i have ever heard i don't want a rich husband, if i ever got married i would want a nice husband not a rich one who even cares that much about money" your frown deepened as you started to vent to the boys around you "besides i don't even date so there isn't going to be a husband" you finished grumbling picking up leebit from the floor and smoothing out the fur. the boys all looked at you with shock then each other and finally chan before all talking over each other

"who cares what job you have you are still young"

"you are way pretty who even says that to their own daughter? you are the prettiest noona"

"your brother is a jerk if he thinks you are stupid, you are super smart"

"your mum really only worries about money?"

"i need to figure out how long to set the air fryer to cook them both!"

"you don't need a rich husband you have us to look after you"

"what do you mean you don't date why not you're so beautiful?

you teared up again but this time out of happiness they all looked so offended on your behalf and you couldn't help but feel loved and cared for by them. it warmed you knowing that these were the type of guys you had befriended these sweet boys who would always try to lift you up and look to help you with anything.

"why don't you date?" chan repeated slowly glossing over the fact that it was the second time today he had called you attractive to your face. you blushed the dark pink quickly racing across your cheeks and down onto your neck.

"there is no one i like" you replied softly hiding your face behind the sweater paws you had from the hoodie he had lent you

"Oh really? i would say that there is from that reaction" felix teased bumping your shoulder with his which in turn caused you to bump against chan's warm chest

"hey, hey, hey, hey less teasing more being nice you lot" chan playfully admonished enjoying the feeling of you leaning against his chest. you had yet to re-adjust yourself and he would take any moment of you being this close to him.

"ok if you are feeling better maybe you could help chan and i in the kitchen with dinner?" lee know asked trying to further distract the conversation away from your embarrassment as he and chan both stood up

"of course i'll help i don't like to freeload of you" you missed chan's warmth against your side but easily accepted his hand to help you stand leading you back through the room passed the dining table to the kitchen he didn't let your hand go. which also didn't go unnoticed by the others, each smirking at each other as they all realised that you wanted chan probably as much as they knew he wanted you. after chopping vegetables, making rice and helping lee know grill meat you all sat down together for your meal. the boys complimenting you and lee know on the food while chan just let the acknowledgement of his efforts slide knowing the praise would help you feel happy. after helping clear the table changbin organised han, seungmin and jeongin to wash the dishes while felix got out the cookies he made earlier in the afternoon and helped make hot chocolate with hyunjin while chan took you back through to the lounge to pick a movie. you settled on a marvel film to hopefully appease all of them.

"thanks for thinking of us but squirrel and i were going to go for a run after dinner" changbin apologised after to you looked up at him with worried eyes

"that's true i lost a bet and this is my stupid punishment" han whinged playing up the whole situation as changbin dragged him up the hallway to change into workout gear

"lix, jinnie and i are going to work on some choreography at the studio tonight so that we have something to show our manager for the comeback in a few months" lee know explained which you nodded to instantly

"oh of course if you need to work i don't want to hinder you but please don't overwork yourselves" you replied guiltily not wanting to hold up their schedules more than you probably already had. they each grabbed a bag and made there way out of the dorm followed not long after by changbin and han. finally jeongin and seungmin left to their own dorm to do a vocalracha vlive leaving you alone with chan.

"i guess it's not a movie night then" you muttered reaching for a cookie that had been put on the coffee table along with the hot chocolates that were left for you. chan sighed he realised that the boys had made these excuses to give you some privacy without wanting to let you know that they were giving you privacy so chan knew he had to make the best of it.

"we can still watch a movie or we could play a video go or just talk whatever you like" chan started softly "or we can just go up to my room to hangout" he trailed off looking at you warmly.

"chan can i ask you something and you won't think less of me?" the apprehension in you voice obvious to chan

"of course you can i will always support you, you're one of my closest friends" he answered immediately trying to calm himself for the possibility that this question could cause him or you pain. he watched you take a deep breath letting it out slowly as if to steel yourself for his answer

"did you mean it when you said i was beautiful earlier?"

"yes" chan breathed out instantly "i meant it when i said you are gorgeous earlier today too" he watched as your eyes widened in shock meeting his and you gasped sharply. in the few second he gave you to comprehend what he said he realised you were not unhappy with his compliment you were in fact very pleased with it. making up his mind he quickly cupped your cheek in his warm hands before leaning in to place his lips tentatively on yours this kiss soft and short but still incredibly sweet. your eyes had still been open he was sure of it but when your fingers slowly rose to your face to touch your lips you smiled brightly

"chan" you sighed softly feeling as though you must be dreaming silly grin on your lips as you blushed all the way to your ears "i have wanted to kiss you for so long would you kiss me again?" chan's heart soared as he realised what you were saying nodding emphatically he connected his lips to yours once more this time letting you kiss him back before deepening it until you were both out of breath. coming up for air he watched the dreamy expression on your face and knew there was only one more thing he had to say before this night lead you both to whatever destination fate had for you.

"please stay here with me and be mine, dont go back to your family stay here with this family stay here with me" he knew he sounded as though he was pleading even begging but he didnt care he wanted you only you. "i love you baby and i swear i'll take care of you forever" you felt as though your heart would burst from his confession knowing that he was putting on the line right here and now for you. you pulled him back to you to place a searing kiss on his lips.

"i love you too chan and i'll stay for as long as you want me" your words coming straight from your heart amazing you how right they felt to say

"always then" chan whispered taking you hand and leading you to his room.

[raineydays411]

Trauma really does bond

The umbrella academy x teen!reader

Summary: It’s time for you to meet your siblings. But what happen when your introductions don’t exactly go as planned?

You were trembling as you walked behind Pogo and Grace. Its ironic, you’ve waited your whole life for this moment. To finally meet your siblings and expand your family. A childish hope of your siblings one day returning to the mansion and accepting you with open arms. 

But now that you actually have a chance to meet them, you’re terrified. You realized that you have no idea how to talk to people. It’s different than when you talk to Pogo or your mother. These are complete strangers. No matter how many stories you’ve been told, how many times you read Vanyas book, you truly didn’t know these people. How were you meant to be a family? How are you supposed to-

“Y/n? Dear?” 

You’re snapped from your thoughts by your mother calling you.

“Yes, momma?”

“Momma? Pogo, who’s that?”

You turn, again surprised by an unfamiliar voice. There she was. Alison Hargreeves. She’s beautiful. 

Her hair is curly and blonde, with beautiful high cheekbones and glowing brown skin. Her as were kind even as she squinted at you skeptically in confusion.

“Alison, this is Y/n Hargreeves, or Number Eight. She’s your sister.”

Grace again gives you a light nudge, and you move in front of her. It was then that you realized that you are shorter than Alison, having to glance up to meet her eyes. 

“My sister?” She looks at you in disbelief, “How come we didn’t know? This wasn’t mentioned by the press or anything...” 

“Your father decided to keep our dear Y/n a secret.” Grace said wrapping her arm around you, “ She’s been our little secret for 17 years and 4 months.” 

“A secret? But why? I mean, what was the reason?”

“Your father, believed that the world wasn’t ready for a new superhero. Nor was Y/n ready to face the world.” Pogo said with a grim face, “ He had hoped though, that one day he would be able to take her out...but it seems that for now, Y/n shall remain inside.”

You frowned, holding back tears at the thought. You didn’t know that your father had wanted to let you out, nor that he wanted to be there when you were. But, what truly upset you, was that you had to stay in the mansion. Freedom was at the tip of your fingers and you didn’t even know it.

“Stay inside? You mean she’s never been outside?” Alison said horrified.

“Well she has been out in the courtyard and such, but Mr. Hargreeves prohibited her to leave the premises. Nor was she allowed to be in contact with the citizens”

“She’s been here all alone?” Alison asks sadly, “ With no one to talk to? No one her age?” 

“I’m afraid not” Pogo says sadly, looking at you.

You didn’t understand the big deal. Of course you were lonely, and wanted to explore the world, but you knew why you had to stay. You can just hear your fathers words.

“You have a duty Number Eight. A duty to your people and to me. It may not be ideal but sacrifices are hardly ideal.”

And everytime you thought about leaving, you’d remember his words and stay put. Besides you wouldn’t dare disobey your father.

Not after the last time.

“Well,” Alison says gently, leaning down to your eye level, “ Hello Y/n, I’m Alison Hargreeves, your big sister.”

Your eyes widened at her words as your heart filled with joy. For so many years  you imagined those words. You wondered how this whole thing would play out, how meeting your siblings might be. And to hear Alison so readily accept you, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Hello, Alison” You say beaming as you carefully step forward, “ I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you, Momma says you live in California, what is it like?” 

Alison smiles at your question, your demeanor like a small child. It reminded her of Claire...

“It’s very nice, maybe when we have time I’ll be able to tell you all about it.” 

Your smile widens as you turn to your mother excitedly, she smiles back and says, “ That sounds wonderful dear, but you should go and change. You know the rules. You don’t want your father finding you in your night clothes, now would you?”

You furrow your brows,” Momma...”

“No buts now march” She says with a grin. You smile at Alison but see the worried look on her face. 

“So she did notice how weird momma acting” You think to yourself. You stay in a daze as you walk towards your room. Worrying about your mother, grieving your father, and thinking about how you’re finally meeting all your siblings. Then as you turn a corner into the hallway that leads to your room, you’re knocked to the ground as you bump into a wall of a body.

“Ow!” you squeal as you hit the ground, rubbing the back of your head and peering up at the person you bumped into.

“Uh..sorry Y/n” 

“Luther!” You shout, your pain overridden by the happiness you felt at seeing your brother, one that actually knows you exist.

He helps you up, which to him is like picking up a feather, and  before he knew it, your arms are wrapped around his midsection. Luther awkwardly pats your back, not really expecting to be hugged.

“It's great to see you Luther! I read all your mission reports, or rather the ones that Father let me read. I always wished you good night though! Pogo always caught me looking at the moon with that telescope, I hope you don’t mind that I used it. It's just that I missed you so-” Your happy ramblings cut off by a Luther clearing his throat.

“Ahem...right, um hey Y/n, I gotta go...check on something.” He says gently pushing you away, “It was nice seeing you though.”

And with that he walks away, leaving you in the hallway as you stare at his retreating form.

“oh...okay then! I’ll see...see you later.” You say, disheartened by his brief acknowledgement. You sigh, walking into your room. 

“I don’t know why I try...” You mumble to yourself. “ It’s not like he was ever happy to see me before.”

You go into your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Usually, Grace picked out your outfits, ordered by your father, but she didn’t leave anything out for you today. So, you settled for a black turtleneck sweater, a black and white plaid skirt, black knee high socks with some mary janes. It wasn’t really your go to look, but you felt like it was appropriate given the circumstance. You let your hair loose, curls falling into your face as you let it out of the bun you quickly put it in. 

You go to walk out of the room when you’re stopped by a gleam. You see the necklace your father gave to you after the incident. You stare at it, debating on whether you should put it on or not. You sigh, deciding to wear it, it was his funeral after all. You put it on, the cold metal never truly seem to heat up, the pendant heavy on your chest. You never grew attached to it. It just served as a reminder that you’re stuck in the mansion. You can never leave. Not until he let you and now...

You shake your head. Trying not to get into your thoughts, that's when you heard it. Little scratching at your window. You turn to see Despereaux, the little mouse  you saved when you were younger. Ever since that day it was like you and him formed a bond.

You open the window excited to see your little friend.

“Hello Despereaux, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” You whisper as you let him climb on to your shoulder. “ you’ve missed quite a bit since I’ve last seen you. How about some cheese?”

You walk out of your room, Despereaux nestled on your shoulder. As you walk through the long hallways, you bump into another body.

“Ouch, again?” You whisper to yourself, rubbing your forehead.

“Hey watch it...teenage girl?” A male voice said in a perplexed tone. 

You look up to see a man in some rather tight clothes and kohl ringed eyes.

“Hello” You quietly mutter with a soft smile. “I’m Y/n”

“You are adorable.” The man says, “ Where has the old man been hiding you?” 

You blush looking down at your feet, you were never really complimented. Only by Grace.

“ Aww” The man squeals, squishing you to his body. He smelled like booze and sweat but the hug was nice, “ I have no idea who you are but I’m your uncle Klaus from now on.”

“You’re Klaus?” You say excitedly, “ I’m so glad to meet you!” 

You wrap your arms around him, feeling the outline of something hard and metal in the back of his pants. You ignored it though, happy to meet another one of your siblings.

“Ugh it’s so nice to be around someone who isn’t a total stick in the mud.” Klaus says letting go of you, “ Like Luther, all that rage in that big body” 

You giggle at his words and eccentric behavior. It was a stark contrast to the ridgid stoic behavior that you’re used to. Klaus’ grand gestures and silly nature was new to you.

“I’ve heard alot about you.” You say happily, “ Mama always tells me stories about how you used to steal  her shoes and skirts and Father said--”

“Father?” Klaus asked, “ You mean ol’ Reggie bought you too? Or are you like..his offspring? Eww! I don’t want to think about that, shut up Ben.”

Ben?

“Father adopted me, I was born with powers like you.” You clarify for him. 

“Huh, so he managed to create another trauma case before he croaked.” Klaus said in a light voice, “Well. I always wanted a little sister.”

You smile, glad that at least two of your siblings liked you. But what did he mean by trauma case.

“Anywho, I have some... inheritance I need to collect. I, will see you at the funeral, das Kind” 

And with a wiggle of his fingers he was off, gone as quick as when you met him. Leaving you yet again, alone. You shrug off his odd behavior when you heard two voices speaking. 

“ah no, not to my knowledge.”

“But..the spine is broken and there's notes in the margins.”

“ Yes, that would be the work of.. ah Y/n, there you are.”

You jump in surprise, although you should’ve know. You can never eavesdrop with Pogo around.

You walk down the stairs, slowly towards Pogo and.. Vanya!

Out of all the siblings, she’s the one you wanted to meet the most. She, like you was isolated in this mansion. You felt a connection to her as soon as you were able to pick up that book. Your heart raced as you made it to the final step, reaching the first flower and into the living room where Vanya and Pogo were talking. You can see that she is shocked, as all your other siblings were.

“Pogo, who is this?” 

“Go ahead dear, introduce yourself. Just like you practiced.”

You smile widely, “Hi I’m Y/n Hargreeves, I love your book. I’ve read it almost five times now.  You’re Vanya! I’ve been waiting to meet you! You look exactly like the picture on the back of the book! It really is a good book, I-”

“Y/n, take a breath. Let her get a word in.” Pogo chuckled, glad to see that you’re comfortable around Vanya. 

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, father did always say I..tend to talk to much” You say looking down at your shoes. You didn’t notice the frown on both Pogo and Vanyas face.

“You...you read my book?” Vanya asked, still trying to figure out who you are.

“Yes, multiple times. It...well, besides the stories Mama and Pogo told me, this was the only way I got to know all of you.”

“Why didn’t you just come find us?” 

“Oh well..I wasn’t really allowed outside”, you say glancing at Pogo, “ Father said the world and I weren’t ready for each other.”

“You mean, you’ve been alone...all these year?”

“No, not totally alone! I had Pogo, and Mama, and and father too. Plus there were the robots he built, although I did destroy them...and the books and and..”

“Y/n...that’s..that’s not..” Vanya stopped herself. She knew that this must be a sensitive subject for you. The way you listed everyone in your life was practiced. Like you’ve said it to yourself over and over again. And by the grim look on Pogos face, she can tell it wasn’t only you who was sensitive about this subject.

“Well, Y/n..perhaps you should go on in the kitchen and help your mother. Your siblings will be meeting here shortly, it would be nice if they had some snacks, don’t you agree?” Pogo says, forcing a smile at you.

“Oh! Okay” You beam, “ It was nice meeting you Vanya!” 

And with that you scurry off into the kitchen, leaving Vanya and Pogo behind in silence.

“She’s been alone for...” 

“For seventeen years. Yes”

“Pogo...”

“You know your father...once he made up his mind...there was little I can do.”

Vanya sighs and pats Pogo on the shoulder, “It’s good to see you Pogo.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You skip into the kitchen, seeing your mother humming at the sink. You walk up to her and notice that she’s cleaning the same plate over and over again.

“Hi momma!” you say suddenly

“Oh, hello dear. What are you doing in here?” Grace asks putting the plate in the drying rack.

Pogo said it would be nice to make snacks for my siblings” You ask, then feeling movement around your neck, “Oh and some cheese please.”

You forgot Despereaux was on your shoulder, its a wonder that no one has seen him yet.

“hmm snacks we can do.” Grace says with a smile. She goes to the fridge and pulls out some cheese.

“How about some cheese and crackers? Its simple.” she says, “ ans Despereaux here can have his fill as well”

You freeze, caught again by your mother, “ Thanks momma.” 

You both giggle, and side by side you work on cutting the cheese and presenting the crackers. You feel a sense of calm wash over you. You usually do when you’re around your mother. She makes you feel safe. 

“Ahem.” 

You both turn to see Diego in the kitchen doorway.

“Diego dear, you startled us.” Grace said with a smile, “ Come help, we’re making you kids some snacks.”

He barely spares a glance at you.

“Pogo wanted me to come tell you that the meetings starting.”

“Oh, well go on darling, run along and I’ll bring out the snacks later.”

And with that she kisses your forehead and waves you away. She turns back to the  sink and starts humming again. 

You glance back at Diego. He’s glaring at the wall and to be honest you’re surprised he even waited for you. You pick up Despereaux and put him on your shoulder again, and grab some grapes and cheese then stuff it in your skirt pocket. Then you walk up to Diego with a small smile. 

He glances at you and scoffs, then walks away. You have to jog to catch up to him.

“You uh, you walk pretty fast” You say huffing a bit. 

He doesn’t answer you, he just keeps walking in the same pace. You stay silent as well, the trip to the living room longer than you remember.

You finally make it, and you see all your siblings in the room, spread out. You take a seat next to Vanya. You smile at her and take a glance around the room. Luther is sat at the couch across from you and Vanya. Allison and Diego are sat on some chairs, and Klaus is at the bar. 

The six of you sit in an awkward silence until Luther clears his throat.

“ So I guess we should get this started.” He says standing up, “ So I figured we can have sort of a memorial service. At the courtyard at sundown, say a few words. At dad’s favorite spot.”

You nod along and hear Alison speak up, “ Dad had a favorite spot?”

“Yeh at the oak tree, we used to sit out there all the time. None of you did that?” Luther asks.

“Oh yeah, after training” you chime in, causing the adults to look at you. You heard Diego scoff again and saw Luther quickly furrow his brow then smooth out his face again.

“Will there be refreshments?” Klaus asks walking out from behind the bar, “ Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.” 

He goes to take a seat next to you when Luther speaks up

“What? No, and put that out. You know dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

You roll your eyes. If you had to choose one thing to hate about Luther, you’d choose his insistent need to always be on your Father's good side. He can be such a downer sometimes.

“Is that my skirt?”

You hadn’t even noticed Klaus in the skirt. If you had to be honest, it did really suit him. You let out a small laugh, hearing Klaus mention his “bits”.

“Listen up.”

Oh boy, you’ve heard this tone before. You really forgot how stern Luther could be.

“There’s still some important things that we need to discuss alright ?”

“Um Luther” you squeak out, “ what more is there to talk about? Its not like Father had many friends we can invite. And his only family is us...”

“Yeah. The kids right, what else is there to discuss?” Diego asks.

You turn to him in surprise, this is basically the first time he acknowledged you unprompted. You send him a smile that, as expected, he ignores.

Oh well, small steps.

“ The way he died.”

“ And here we go”

You scrunch your eyebrows, “the way he died?”

Klaus sits next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as Vanya speaks up,

“I don’t understand, I thought they said it was a heart attack...”

“A heart attack?” You ask, realizing that no one’s really did tell you how your father died..

You’re question gained a suspicious look from Luther and confusion from the rest.

“ Y/n...you didn’t know?” Alison asked gently.

“ no one told me...” You say quietly, feeling nervous from the sudden attention.

“Well, According or to the coroner it was.” Luther continues.

“Well wouldn’t they know?”

“Theoretically..”

“Theoretically??”

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why nobody told you how your father died. You don’t understand why everyone was acting weird. And you don’t understand why Luther was bringing this up.

You feel a hand on your forearm, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn your head to see Klaus.

“ you lost in space?” He whispers playfully, “ I would be too, having to listen to Detective Daddy issues over here.”

You let out a small chuckle and whisper back, “ well technically we all have daddy issues.”

This earned you a quiet laugh and a pat on the arm. Then Klaus went to drink whatever was in his cup. And you tuned in again.

“ i’m just saying at the very least something happened. ” Luther says looking around the room, “ The last time I talk to dad he sounded strange.”

“Oh quelle surprise!” Klaus gurgles through his drink.

The rest of the adult ignored him, only sparing him a quick glance.

“Strange how?” Alison asked, continuing the conversation.

“ he sounded on edge”, Luther said, “ told me to be careful who to trust.”

He then gave you pointed look. You looked back at him perplexed, not knowing why he looked at you that way.

“Luther,” Diego chimed in, “ he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles. ”

You frown at that statement. Sure your father was old and sort of eccentric, but his mind was sharp.

But come to think of it he was acting really weird the week before he died. He started telling you more about your siblings, about your place in the world and how you were meant to help it. He spent more time with you more than he ever has your whole life. He was, in his own way, nicer to you. Nicer in training, nicer on your free time, nicer in general. He took you out to the old oak tree more often, and just sat there with you, no lectures, no tirades, he just sat in silence.

It was almost like... like he knew he was going to die. 



“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, “ hey dad can you stop playing tennis with Hitler really quick and take a quick call?’” Klaus says exasperatedly.

Oh right you forgot, he can talk to ghosts.

“ since when? that’s your thing.” Luther asks

“ i’m not in the right... Frame of mind!!” 

“ You’re high?” Alison asks

“Yeah!” Klaus laughs, “ Who wouldn’t be listening to this nonsense. Right kiddo?”

He nudged you gently look at you for confirmation.

Your eyes widen and before you can even answer Diego cut you off,

“ Don’t bring her in this, she probably isn’t even know what being high is.”

You most certainly do. You’re not a child.

“ Look, just sober up this is important!” Luther demands , then continues on, “ and then there’s the missing monocle.”

“Who gives a shit about the missing monocle?” Diego mutters.

“ Father is missing his monocle?” You ask, getting ignored again.

“Exactly, it’s worthless.” Luther states, “ so whoever took it it must’ve been personal.”

The group starts to actually pay attention to him

“ Someone close to him, someone with a grudge.” He determines.

Wait...he’s not implying..

“Where are you going with this?” Klaus asks

“Oh, isn’t obvious Klaus?” Diego taunts, “ He thinks one of us killed dad.”

Luther grunts, but doesn’t deny his accusation.

The room goes silent as everyone tries to come to terms with what was revealed.

“ Luther...” you start sadly, feeling hurt and betrayed.

“You do?” Klaus asks in disbelief

“How could you think that?” Vanya chimes in

“ is it really that far-fetched?” Luther defends himself, “ I mean, it’s not secret how much you all hate him.”

“Luther.” Alison says sternly

“ That’s not fair accusation, there’s no evidence or anything...” you say defending your siblings, “ Besides, no one came home until today. Trust me, I’d know.”

But that just turned him on you 

“ And where were you when he died?”

Your breath hitched, “ what?”

“ You’re the one who can heal people right? So where were you? Why didn’t you heal him?” He demands, “ Or did you let him die?”

“ Luther!” Alison shouts at him

You stay silent as you can’t think of anything to say. You already felt horrible about not being able to save your father. But yo hear it from Luther...

“I..” you start to say but get choked up. You feel the walls close up around you and the heavy gaze of these adults. You quickly stand up and run out of the room sniffing.

It was then that Luther realized what he just accused you of.

“Y/n wait..” he starts but you’re already gone by the time he spoke up. He turns to the rest of his siblings, facing their glares and betrayed looks.

“ Great job Luther.” Diego says sarcastically, “ Way to lead.”

And with that he walks out the room.

“That’s..that’s not what I’m saying”

“You’re crazy man. You’re crazy.” Klaus said getting up from his spot and grabbing his things. “Crazy”

“I..I wasn’t finished”

“ Okay, sorry I’m just gonna go get Y/n and have her help me murder mom.” Klaus sneers, “ You know, after I get her to stop crying, be right back.”

“That’s not what I was saying!” Luther says, “ I didn’t—“ he cuts himself off, seeing as everyone but Alison left.

Then she gets up to leave, but says this

“ That little girl has had it rough enough growing up here, she doesn’t need anymore from you.”

Then she walks out ignoring what Luther tries to say.

Leaving him all alone.

“That went well.”



[americaswritings]

Invisible

Warnings: Angst, Insecurity & Self-doubt, Language

Summary: The reader stays with Tom and his friends during quarantine. To protect her from media and fans, the reader can’t been seen in any social media posts. It leads to her feeling more and more lonely and isolated until she can’t take it anymore.

Words: 2.6k 

Pairings: Tom Holland x reader

A/N: I wrote this when Tom hosted the marvel pub quiz, but completely forgot to post it!

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST

"That's it. Thank you for joining and taking part in the quiz! I hope you had as much fun as we did and don't forget to post your answers using the hashtag massive marvel pub quiz so we can find your answers easier. Stay safe and healthy. Bye guys!"

You watched as Tom's face disappeared and the live stream ended.

But the excitement that you had felt when you had first heared of the idea of a marvel quiz was gone. Now you just felt empty. And alone.

You knew that you were overreacting, after all Tom and the others were just a few rooms away, but you couldn't help and feel left out. Again.

You weren't invited to join the live stream in the first place so why join them know?

You knew that Tom only wanted to protect you and himself by keeping you out of the public's eye. If they found out that a female in his age was spending the time during quarantine at his house, they would go wild. You could already imagine the headlines that would follow.

After all Tom had exerperienced how far his ‘fans’ and the media would go when a photo of him and Olivia had gone viral.

Only a few blurry images and both Tom and Olivia had been attacked for weeks, even so far that the girl had to make her instagram private, yet the hate comments never stopped.

And Tom knew that he would never risk the chance of you having to read through pages of hate comments of people that didn't even know you. Because if they did, they knew they could never hate you.

You were kind and loving and you cared a little too deeply.

Tom still remembered when you had called him crying, because you didn't feel confident enough to go out after some girls in your class had made it their mission to target all your insecurities and make mean comments whenever you passed them.

He still remembered the anger and hate he felt inside of him when he listened to your sobbing and how the girl's words had gotten to you, to the point you even believed them.

So when you had moved in with him and the boys, he had decided to keep you out of everything that could reveal to the world that you were living with them. You had agreed without a second doubt, because in that moment it seemed the only rational and responsible thing to do.

Now you weren't so sure anymore, because it hurt so much to be invisible every day. You had gotten used to the fact that you could only watch their instagram stories, live streams and tik toks without being able to join them. But what hurt you even more were the little things.

"Hey y/n, could you leave the room for a sec? You are always in the background of the video!"

A second often turned into hours and soon you found yourself retreating to your room more and more to avoid having to leave and get hurt again.

Yesterday you had decided to do a little game night and you felt so carefree that you came to the conclusion that you were being ridiculous and should rather enjoy the time with them instead of obsessing over your feelings. But then you had laughed over something that had been said and Tom has sighed, dropping his phone.

"Great, now I have to delete that, because you were laughing in the background", he stated, clearly frustrated and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

"I'm sorry", you mumbled but it sounded more like a question than a sincere apologzy, because really, what where you even apologizing for? Harrsion had leaned over to get a better look at Tom's phone. "That would have been a great post, mate!"

You adverted your eyes, starring at the table and analysing the natural pattern of the wood to try and distract yourself from the embarassment and the tears that had filled your eyes. "I know right", Tom sighed again and you crounched down in your seat even more.

"I will do that again now so you have to be completely quiet now y/n, got it?

You wanted to scream at them, because you weren't dumb and yet they were treating you like a child that had misbehaved and was now lectured. But you only gulped and nodded, fearing that if you said something, your voice would break and reveal how hurt you really felt.

While they recorded the story again, you listened to their loud laughter as you fought back the tears.

Eventually you excued yourself, mumbling something about having a headache, but you doubted that they even noticed.

Now you could hear them laugh again and even though Tom's laugh was one of your favorite sounds, it now cut deeper into your heart like a knife. 

You were still staring at your phone screen where you saw photos of answer sheets already popping up. You had gotten around 20 answers right, but you didn't feel proud.

When Tom had told you about the marvel quiz you had been beyond excited. Since you could remember you loved the marvel movies. Your rooms had been filled with posters and other merchandise and your friends only rolled their eyes when you suggested to watch a marvel movie during your movie nights.

You had build your knowdlege over the years and loved to challenge Tom, who thought of himself as a big marvel fan as well, regarding who knew more about the marvel cinematic universe.

So when he came up with the idea of a marvel live quiz, you insisted to take part and therefore hear the questions for the first time during the stream so you had the same chance as everyone else.

But as soon as Harry and Harrison had joined the live stream your enthusiasm had faded. They were having so much fun and you were sitting in your room, all on your own. The familiar feeling of loneliness and self doubt had accompained you the rest of the live stream and now that it had ended you just wanted to crawl under the covers and weep into your pillow.

Maybe you were clingy and needy and overthinking again, but you couldn't help the overwhelming sadness and you began to doubt if staying with Tom was a mistake and if your friendship meant more to you than the others.

Maybe you should pack your things tomorrow and tell Tom that you needed to go home. He would understand if you claimed to miss the comfort of being at your home but then again, you would be even more lonely.

Frustrated you threw your phone on the nightstand and quickly changed into your pajamas before crawling into bed.

In the darkness of the room the disappointment felt even more overwhelming and you grabbed onto your pillow for comfort.

A knock made you freeze and your heart started pouding in your chest. You prayed that the person would leave you alone and go away if you pretended to be asleep so you stayed silent.

"Y/n?"

It was Tom's voice.

"We want to watch a movie. Wanna join us?"

You knew that he wouldn't go away until the got an answer so you dismissed your plan and braced yourself to speak.

"No, I am tired, but thanks." You hoped that Tom didn't notice how nervous you sounded and after an agonizing moment of silence you could hear him mutter an "okay" and walk away.

Did you imagine it or did he sound disapppointed? Now feeling guilty too, you covered your face in your hands in frustration.

Why did everything have to go wrong?

And wait...did you still have your make-up on?

You let out a sound of frustration when you realized that you had to get up again to wipe off your make-up. You had applied it because you wanted to feel your best during the quiz you had been so excited for, but now it meant walking all the way to the bathroom.

Which meant leaving your room again.

You slowly opened your door, peeking out to check if the corridors were empty. You proceeded to tiptoe to the bathroom and closed the door behind you while relief flooded you. You really didn't want to meet anyone now, not when you felt like breaking into tears every second.

When you looked into the mirror and began to wash your make-up off, you allowed yourself to let the tears flow. A few sobs escaped your mouth, but the bathroom was far enough from the living room so they wouldn't be able to hear you.

Without the make-up on, you felt a little more relaxed and you couldn't wait to get into bed again.

But when you reached your room without running into anyone on the way, you were more than surprised to see that once you had closed the door and turned around, you weren't alone.

Tom was sitting on your bed, looking up at you when you entered the room.

You could conclude from the frown that covered his face that you looked as horrible as you felt. Your eyes were probably still puffy and red from the crying and your hair was in a messy bun.

"Tom?", you stuttered, too shocked to come up with something that would save you from this conversation. "What are you doing here?", you added, hating how weak your voice sounded.

His frown grew even deeper and he mustered your apperance, hurt visible in his eyes.

"You were so excited for the quiz so when you didn't leave your room I grew worried", he explained while you akwardly stood next to the door, leaving as much space between the two of you as possible.

"Oh that- I just didn't feel good so I decided to sleep early today", you tried to brush it off, but you knew that Tom would not fall for it.

"Why have you been crying?"

His question was acommpanied by a stern gaze and you couldn't help feeling guilty and ashamed.

"I- I wasn't", you stuttered, but it didn't even sound believable to your own ears. Tom raised his eyebrow, but when he saw how uncomfortable you looked his features softened.

"Hey, you can talk to me, you know that right? Whatever it is, you can tell me and we can figure this out together." His voice was so gentle and caring that tears filled your eyes again and you silently cursed yourself for being so emotional.

You didn't want to cry in front of Tom. It would not be the first time and when it had happened he had always managed to make you feel better and put a smile on your face again, but you also knew the shame that would follow afterwards.

You didn't want him to think that you were too sensitive.

But the tears weren't only a result of your hurt, no, anger was building inside of you at his words. "Really Tom, really?", you snapped and he flinched in surprise.

"Are you sure you want me to talk to you? Maybe someone is filming an instagram story and I could be heard in the background so I should just say nothing at all. Or even better, why don't I just leave the room so there is a lesser chance that I could ruin your precious masterpieces by just existing."

Tom's eyes had widened at your outburst and you actually felt bad for a second, but then you remembered the many occasions he had made you feel like you weren't good enough and the anger came back.

"You know what? I think it would be best if I just went home. I am done being treated like an outsider and being blamed for everything I do!"

Tom had jumped up from the bed and was crossing the distance between the two of you with large steps, but you raised your hands before he could come closer to you.

"Y/n I am so sorry", he stumbled over his words, desperately trying to find the right words. "I didn't realize- I never would have..." Frustrated he ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen, I screwed up! I didn't realize that my behaviour- that I was hurting you and I am so sorry! I just wanted to protect you and now I am the one making you feel this way. Fuck, I am so sorry!"

His words seemed geniune and your heart ached to step forward and pull him into a hug, but you knew that you could not forget so easily.

"I didn't think that this was so important to you. Why didn't you say anything?" He was rubbing the back of his head, seemingly tensed.

"I don't care much about not being in the stories Tom. But it really hurt whenever I am send away so you can film together or when I am told to shut up so I can't be heard while you all have fun together”, you explained, trying to keep your vice even.

“I just feel like I am a burden to you and if you don't want to spend time with me that's fine I guess but I would appreciate for you to tell me that so I can stop trying and just go home."

"No, no, no it's not like that I swear!” Tom seemed desperate again, articulating with his hands to underline his words.

“I miss spending time with you, I really do and it was stupid of me to let myself being dragged into this whole instagram thing!

You know I am normally not the person to care much about posting, but I thought now that everyone is stuck at home, I could make my fans happy and distract them from the situation by sharing more of my life. I should have never put them before you and I am truly sorry!” You could see the regret clearly in his eyes as he took in a deep breath. 

“Please don't go."

You were biting your lip as you were trying your best to stay calm and not break into tears. You had imagined confronting Tom and letting all your anger and hurt out, but now that he stood in front of you with his eyes full of hurt and regret and his pleading words for you to stay, your anger vanished.

"Are you sure?", you asked him in uncertainty, because you knew you couldn't bare if nothing would change. But Tom desperately nodded. "I am. Tomorrow I am going to post a photo to let my fans now that I am taking a break from social media!"

He looked so determined, so sure, that a warm feeling filled you. "You would do that?"

"Of course! I want to make it up to you and besides I was not lying when I said that I miss spending time with you”, he stated, stepping a little closer to you when you didn’t protest anymore.

“You were so distant the last days and I didn't know what to do, so I thought that I should give you space. Seems like that is the last thing I should have done", he sayed with a sheepish smile covering his face.

"Sorry for being so caught up in myself. I should have said something earlier too", you admitted, a small smile forming on your lips, when you felt the burden fall off your shoulders.

"Hug?", Tom suggested and you didn't have to think twice about it.

When he wrapped his strong arms around you, you realized that going back to your place would have been a mistake. Because at some point your home hadn't been a place anymore. Instead it had become a person and you didn't plan on letting go any time soon.

----

Tags:

PERMANENT: @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @capkilljoy​ @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa​

TOM HOLLAND: @mbsgr​ @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ @fairydustparker​ @its-the-unknownspideywrites​ @tomhollanders2013​ @hollandsmiss​ ​ @100kindsofblake​ @popluckbih​ @quaksonhehe​​

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[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

[no-droids]

Just the Translator

Part Ten of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings:  There is rough sex in this.  THERE IS ROUGH SEX IN THIS.  Do NOT read if that offends you.  There is also more anal stuff—NO FUCKING (not yet).  Uh, canon-typical violence, grumpy Din Djarin, some fluffy moments, Baby Yoda being a little troublemaker, bit of a cliffhanger ending BUT NOT TO WORRY PALS I ALREADY GOT QUITE A BIT OF THE NEXT PART WRITTEN

A/N: ***Please take a second to visit this googledoc, in it are useful links regarding the BLM protests and what we can do to help. Here is a separate link to where I originally addressed this and shared more thoughts***

***

Whelp.  At least you’re in a good mood. 

In contrast, Din and the kid have been causing problems all morning, the both of them.  Like two… two annoying, middle-aged children competing to see which one is less mature.

The smaller of the two, and older (most likely) is bouncing with energy.  Acting a complete fool.  Ready and willing to launch out of his restricting little sphere at any second, a bright green bundle of energy that slept way too well last night and is just rubbing it in at this point.  He was fine earlier—checking out of the inn, picking up some food at a local market, riding in the Crest as it navigated towards the most isolated sector on this planet—but the hike to this field has been like pulling teeth.

In fact, Din is currently wearing a singular gauntlet on his left hand for that very reason—so this child’s hyper ass could be contained within the hovering, reflective prison.  He’s restless, though, continuing to act out.  At one point you suggest just letting him walk to let some energy out like yesterday, even if he slows the group down with his tiny little legs.  Once you let the little menace out on parole though, he just continues to veer off in his own direction and irritate his dad even further.

And, oh stars—his dad.

Din has barely said a word, only answering with short responses when directly prompted and spending most of his energy just silently stewing inside his own little grumpy teapot on his head.  The helmet is the only other piece of armor he’s donning besides the lone vambrace, and you’re surprised steam hasn’t started whistling through the top of it with how frustrated he is, how many times you’ve seen him curl his hands with impatience. At first it was amusing, though you know better than to tease him about it right now.  You keep your mouth shut and try your best to wrangle the kid, doing everything you can to be helpful while also steering clear of unintentionally exacerbating his silent irritation, knowing Din isn’t in the mood for jokes after being interrupted at a very crucial moment last night.  The sun shines directly on the front of his helmet and blinds you with every single annoyed step, so you follow just far enough behind him and try to use his enormous refrigerator of a body to shield your eyes.

At first it was amusing.  But then the baby catches sight of a gorgeously patterned butterfly floating through the field that he probably wants to snack on for breakfast, and he breaks off from your entourage once more with a quiet little coo that should strike pure terror into the hearts of small animals everywhere.

Immediately you’re turning to go get him—but then a large hand quickly snatches the front of your shirt before you can take a single step, pulling until you’re colliding with an unarmored chest with an oof.  

A bare hand catches your jaw and tightens until you’re staring deep into the thin blade of his visor, before Din whispers rough through the modulator, “As soon as he falls asleep.”

That’s all he says.  And then he’s releasing you and letting you stumble back towards his wayward son a whole lot less amused than you were before, and a whole lot more achy.  The baby shenanigans are far less amusing too.

“You’re killing me here, kiddo,” you breathe after quickly catching up with him, having to bend in half to lead him back towards his impatient dad. 

His hot, moody… incredibly well endowed dad, thick arms crossed tight over his chest as he waits for your return.

The monster’s hand lifts high above him as his three fingers cling to just one of yours, the baggy brown sack exposing his pudgy little green elbow as he follows next to you with a waddle.  It’s slow going, but at some point he decides to pull himself up onto your wrist and you catch him, cradling him in your arms before quickly hurrying back to Din.

Thankfully he begins to calm down a little after that.  As you three eventually find a spot in the endlessly breezy field to settle into, the kid clamors back into his shield while Din carelessly drops the dark bag of supplies he carried from the Crest into the tall grass.  You twist your back to let some of the stiffness out, rotating your arms to encourage more movement as he approaches.

“Same thing as yesterday,” he gruffs when he’s in reach, patting his chest again with a bare hand.  “Hard as you can.”

“My… My hands hurt,” you eventually admit, not wanting to frustrate him even more and hoping you would be able to work on blocking today instead, but Din just nods while you gently brush your thumb along your sore knuckles.

“That’ll happen until it doesn’t,” he tells you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow in a quick, awkward gesture of comfort and then dropping his arm to his side.  Short, but not unkind.  “Push through.  You can do it.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the very best motivation you’ll get from him.  His beliefs, condensed down to quick, stunted sentences, presented with such unwavering surety that they must be truths.  Weirdly, it works wonders for you.  Maybe it’s just the person it’s coming from.

You drop into stance and then slam your fist into his chest before he’s ready, and Din steps back on impact with a small grunt while you bite your lip to silence your own noise from the pain reverberating up your arm. 

“Good,” he huffs nonetheless, rubbing the spot on his chest he’s historically designated as target practice.  “Good.  You’re… hitting harder than yesterday.  That’s… fuck.  Good.”

“Good?”  You ask lowly, chancing a quick look over at the kid.  Who blinks directly back at you, wide-eyed and staring purposefully from his crib.  You deflate just a little bit at the sight of him still wide awake, and Din’s fists are clenched by his sides when you turn back to him.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the pent up tightness in his body as you spend the next couple hours throwing more hits at him, different types.  Left hooks, right hooks, crosses, jabs, elbow strikes, palm heels.  He was absolutely right though—the more you make contact with him, the less you begin to feel the pain, until it eventually feels like nothing at all to you.

But then, at one point, you pull your hardened fist back, aimed and focused directly on that same spot on his chest once more—when suddenly his hand flashes up and he flicks his finger against the lower part of your open ribcage. 

He barely puts any strength into it at all—it’s the pressure you’d use to tap someone on the shoulder if you were trying to get their attention, but for some reason the incredibly well-placed reminder throws you.  A little fucking touch like that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does, but you nearly tip sideways and have to catch your footing with how dizzy it makes you.

“That’s what’s called a liver shot,” Din tells you calmly, watching you wrap your hand around your ribcage and wince at the lingering pain through gritted teeth.  “Keep your arm down like I told you.  That’ll happen every time you wanna get lazy with me, little chicken wing.”

You hiss and shake your head a little bit, trying to clear the fog, and then purposefully tuck both arms tight to your sides.  But then—

His hand flashes up again and taps the side of your face this time—not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch on instinct and take a step back.  “That arm stays up.”

Your quick huff of air is suppressed.  Somewhat censored—it doesn’t duly portray the sharp flare of annoyance you experience.  You do exactly what he says, however, and keep your arms in position in front of you.

But then you jerk back and sputter angrily when the tips of his fingers lightly connect with your cheek once more.  “Stop that!  My hands are up!”

“Then why’d you let me do it?”  He asks, stepping up as you retreat to poke you square in your chest.  “Stop letting me do it.”

He goes to tap your face again, but this time your forearm comes up to swat his away before he can make contact, and he seems pleased for the moment.  Din steps back and hits his chest again.  “Come on.”

He lets you get in just a few more blows before coming at you again.  You smack his hand away and then go to throw another punch, but he’s quick.  He cheats—goes for you twice in a row when you’re not expecting it, and taps the vulnerable spot on your side for the second time today.  It hits you like a bullet and takes you a second to snap out of the abrupt shot of pain.

“Come on,” Din taunts once more, curling his mismatched fingers at you—one hand leathered and the other tan and bare.  He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet, starting to enjoy this way too fucking much.  It makes your blood boil, makes you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds and fume at his audacity.

Apparently you take too long getting pissed off at him.  He comes at you first, going for your side again, but you shove his arm out of the way with a growl.  Except his other arm flashes and you react instantly, ducking under the wide, careful swipe aimed for your cheek and then zeroing in on the same exact spot below his ribs he’s been torturing you with all day, the one left wide open while his arm misses its mark.

Except—yours isn’t a tap, or a flick.  It’s a hard uppercut.

Air rushes through the modulator as he groans and stumbles sideways, gasping and trying to steady himself.  Triumph surges through your veins as you watch him, shaking your hand out at your side to quickly encourage the numbness away, your knuckles not yet used to hitting bone.  He clutches his side and shakes the helmet violently in an effort to regain himself, breathing hard through the filter and—

The visor instantly jerks to you and you’re already taking a step back on instinct, adrenaline roaring.  He snaps upright as you continue to retreat—until you trip over yourself and plunge to the grass.

A reflection catches in your peripheral, and you whip your head to the side to see the kid completely passed out in his metallic cradle, eyes closed and mouth drooping a bit.  The sight shoots pure exhilaration through you, but it’s nothing compared to the thrill of only seeing him there for a split second before chrome shields instantly slide shut over his head.

You look back to Din just in time to see him dropping his gloved hand back down to his side and taking quick steps towards you—and you react without thinking.  You scramble over on your hands and knees and then launch forwards before you’re even halfway off the ground, finding your feet as you stumble into a run and hearing footsteps pick up behind you.

Maker, it’s been ages since you’ve run like this.  You don’t even know why you’re running—you just do, it just feels like you should.  Your body barrels through tall grass and your heart thunders faster than the sound of your pumping legs, louder than the wind whipping through your ears.  You don’t know if he purposefully allows you to get this far or if you’re genuinely quick—

—nope.  Nope, you’re not quick, because he suddenly bursts into a sprint behind you and gains way too much ground way too quickly.  You try to break left as soon as you realize what’s happening, but he’s too fast and hooks an arm around your stomach just before you’re out of reach.  Din yanks you back to his chest as he twists around and takes you both to the ground, his shoulder blades slamming down first and softening your landing with his whole body and a grunt, skidding you both to a halt in the endlessly wavy field.

The wind is knocked out of you regardless.  You try and struggle off of him but the positioning makes it almost impossible—your abdominal muscles are no match for the strength of his arms wrapped around your stomach, keeping your body pinned tight to his as you wrestle to lift against him in the grass.

“Fight harder,” Din growls raggedly in your ear, and your pussy seizes with need when you feel how rock hard he is against your ass.  It encourages you—you make a rough sound towards the sky and then lift against him with all your strength, and your elbow comes down hard into his ribcage.  Air whooshes out of him and his arms loosen just slightly.  You’re able to wiggle off him and start crawling away, but then he heaves over and snatches at your pant leg—

Which means you pull them down yourself as you keep clawing yourself forward by your arms, raw excitement coursing through your veins, the fabric pulling tight over your ass and then bunching around your thighs.  You squeal and flounder and kick at him—but Din just grabs at your ankle and then pins your leg to the ground, pushing up and using your calves to clamor on top of you with brute strength, catching your underwear and ripping them down too.  Your heart pounds and your pussy just about floods itself hearing him dig in his pants to pull his cock out, his breath coming heavy through the helmet.

Maker, you’re so fucking ready for it.  You keep struggling just because your body is telling you to, but nothing close to the word ‘stop’ ever leaves your mouth, never even comes to mind.  You feel wetness slicking your inner thighs as Din grunts and plants an arm next to your head, his bare hand shooting out to hover in front of your face.  You flinch—but he keeps it there, palm open in front of your lips in silent expectation.

“Wet or dry,” he snarls when you don’t immediately react.  “I don’t give a shit.”

Still, his hand stays right in front of your face long enough to let you make up your mind.

And… not lick it.

After a moment, Din makes a sound that drops another wave of white hot arousal down through your stomach—a furious, growly noise that resembles distorted static passing through the filter.  He angles his cock against your opening and when you hear him muttering angrily, you think he’s scolding you for it.  Calling you dirty under his breath, promising you you’ll regret saying that in a second.  But no—he’s—

“Perfect.  Perfect little girl, fucking perfect,” Din hisses darkly, pushing into your soaking entrance without anything but your slick to ease his way.  “H-How are you—s-so fuck—ing—”

Oh Maker, you turn your head into the grass and cry out through the delicious, blissful intrusion, pushing your hips back against his—and Din curses as he quickly bottoms out, making sure he lurches fully into you before his hands find out exactly where they want to be.  They land on your lower back and he mounts up, pinning your body hard to the ground with almost his full weight.  It means you can rip out as much grass with your useless arms as you want—he doesn’t even give you a single moment now that he’s successfully rooted you to the crushed greenery.  You bloom for him all the same, as soon as Din pulls out with a wet sound and then starts fucking you strong and steady.

It’s sharp.  Biting.  Even the pleasure has a hard edge to it, completely paralyzing you even if you could struggle in this position.  His hands are pushing down so hard that the ground digs into your tummy and makes his cock angle and slam right into your g-spot each and every time.  You want to moan out your ecstasy but he’s wringing the air from your lungs with every shattering swing of his hips back and forth, quickly speeding up as he goes and taking out a full night’s worth of deprivation on you.

“Ngh.  Take.  Cock.  So.  Fucking.  Good—” Din grits with every mean thrust, the staccato growls of praise getting lost in the echoing, rhythmic clap of his hips.  You can’t fucking breathe—the pleasure is too overwhelming, your face is pressed into the grass, he’s got almost all his weight on you.  You’re helpless to do anything besides close your eyes, furrow your brows, drop your jaw, and just let him own your body in the middle of this beautiful oasis.  The heavy, wild thrusts steal every sense away from you, any ability to think beyond the fractured piece of heaven he’s striking inside you over and over.  You don’t even feel him grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them—

Somebody makes a pitiful, breathless whine—it’s you, you realize.  You make that sound, because worn leather lands right on the entrance he was denied last night and shamelessly breaches it before anything else can interrupt him.

“Tight,” he hisses, slowly sinking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle while you clench your eyes shut and choke out his name, “—f-fucking tight—”

His cock pulses inside you and you bear down as hard as you can on it in return, trying to get accustomed to being penetrated in two places at once.  He doesn’t move his thumb after that—he just keeps it there, deep inside you while he continues wrecking you with the brutal hammering of his hips from behind. 

Still—the impropriety of it starts to burn you up, how… dirty it is.  Getting the life fucked out of you in broad daylight, in the middle of a wide open field, the thickest finger he has buried deep in your ass, helpless to do anything else besides lay here and let him—you feel yourself start to clamp down, steadily getting tighter and tighter around the intrusions while he grits out hard curses and keeps giving it to you through the rapid build.

His name—you start repeating it into the ground like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.  The word scrapes from your throat over and over, and you try to pull at the grass but your hands are clenched into fists and you can’t seem to remember which muscles to use to open them.

“You like this?”  You’re able to hear him grit from above you.  “Like when I—fuck—when I fuck you l-like this?  When I just.  H-Hold you down and take—” he chokes, “—take what I w-want—”

You can’t respond, but fuck yes, you do.  The kindling spark inside you suddenly flares up and starts to spread through your body like wildfire, tightening, tightening, tightening, but then—

He’s so pent up—Din cums.

Devastatingly early.

The savage thrusts suddenly stutter to a halt and the gasp he takes in sounds like it physically hurts him.  Like the orgasm is just ripped out of him.  His hold turns to steel on you, as if he thinks you can somehow get away right now, and Din cums deep inside your spasming cunt with a shuddering, desperate groan of your name. 

It’s like it drains everything from him—he slumps, just conscious enough to slowly ease his thumb out of your tight asshole, and then he collapses in the grass next to you.  You stay there for just a second and shake next to him, muscles feeling like they’re creaking even while just laying on the ground like this, completely motionless.

“Shit—was that—”  Din pants, turning and scooting over to you to brush your hair out of your face with his bare hand, “was that… okay?  Do you… do you need…?”

You’re still so submissive, still so high on the overwhelming rush of pleasure, your mouth opens and croaks out a response without your permission.  “It was good.”

“Yeah?”  He huffs, dropping back on the grass and trying to catch his breath.  “Good.”

And… it’s true.  It was good, it was absolutely fucking amazing.  So overpowering, such a hard fuck that you almost don’t think about the fact that you didn’t actually cum from it.  The thought doesn’t really even register with you fully, not yet.

Eventually you both push yourselves up, each of you equally lacking in energy, just in different ways.  Din looks like he’s drunk—unbalanced and dizzy while he removes his glove and stuffs it into one of his pockets, before carefully tucking his spent cock back in his trousers.  In contrast, you’re nothing more than another trembling blade of grass in an enormous landscape of them, flimsy and yielding to the powerful, rippling wind as you attempt to adjust your clothing.

It’s fine, you tell yourself on the slow, quiet walk back.  Sex doesn’t always need to end in a fiery orgasm.  Sometimes a rough pounding hits the spot, scratches that itch.  You feel like you’re a newborn blurg trying to balance your oddly proportioned weight on two noodle legs as Din’s hand patiently guides you from your lower back, and a bright flare of arousal arcs through you feeling how gentle his hold is compared to the way his cum is steadily leaking from your throbbing, aching cunt.

You don’t need to cum every single time he fucks you.  It’s fine.

***

Upon returning to the sight of the unbothered, napping kid, you both decide to walk a bit more, and you learn your lesson this time.  The sun glints bright against Din’s left side while traveling in this direction, so you stick purposefully to his right the entire time.

In the meantime, you share easy conversation and attempt to regain some semblance of control over your still slightly… restless body.  Slowly but surely, your feverish arousal for him dims and fades to the backburner, replaced instead by… softer, quieter feelings.  There’s not a solid word for it, not really.  If you were mixing on a palette, you’d start out with a base of gentle contentment and then add a big dollop of affection, diluted with silence until it’s a swirling, pastel… color you don’t have a name for, but cherish all the same.

The baby wakes up about halfway through the afternoon hike, and he’s better now too.  Eventually your ragtag party finds a place to settle for the night—a small clearing in the field at the edge of a thick forest.  There’s a sizable log and boulder situated relatively close together, with a wide open space to make a fire in the center.

Din disappears for a bit to go get some firewood from the looming forest while you entertain the kid; the log is tilted perfectly to allow you both to watch the sunset, and you easily converse with the riveting baby talk as if he’s an absolute genius.

“I’m not so sure about that, honestly,” you tell him diplomatically, receiving nothing but unintelligible babbles in response as he climbs all over you.  “Well, no actually, because there’s two major schools of thought concerning that, the first being—”

He pops up in front of your face to interrupt you heatedly and you scoff, rolling your eyes over the loud gibberish.  “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could tone down the passive-aggressiveness, okay?  If we can’t have a respectful discussi—”

Three green fingers settle over your lips and you gasp at the nerve of him, forced to let him continue to ramble on your lap about absolutely nothing at all, the size of his ego soon growing to match the size of his ears.

“Hear that, shiny?”  You turn your head and ask his father upon his eventual return, and Din grunts distractedly as he dumps the firewood down and rummages around in the bag for a lighter.  Tilting your head back towards the kid, you prompt him with a raised brow.  “Tell him what you just told me.”

The baby bursts into more nonsense, encouraged by your attention, and Din crouches down to set the wood into position in the dusky twilight glow while saying nothing at all, and it somehow manages to pass as listening intently.

It continues to go on like that far longer than you expected it would, the baby apparently having quite the bone to pick about something that’s been on his mind, and one point you have to rest your hand over his mouth so he finally stops babbling.  “Hey, that’s not very nice,” you scold him quietly.  “I’m sure his face is perfectly normal under there.”

The helmet turns just slightly towards you, unamused while you snort at your own joke for a little bit. 

“I didn’t say it,” you remind him after far too long of just celebrating your own hilarity, clearing your throat through the stifled chuckles.  “I’m just translating.”

“Oh yeah?”  He eventually murmurs, beginning to ignite some of the crumpled twigs at the center of the pile, and if you worked at it, you could probably convince yourself he’s sharing your gentle smile.  More muted than yours perhaps, but beautiful and easy on his face, fitting him simply and perfectly.  “What did… What did he say I look like?”

You would’ve shot something ridiculous back at him, something snarky and facetious, but you stop short.  You catch it—underneath his voice, it sounds… timid, almost.  Uncertain.  It makes you take just a second in responding.

“Brown eyes,” you tell him after a moment, and Din doesn’t visibly react, just continues to slowly add small branches to kindle the flame.  It’s so quiet out here, but it’s different from hyperspace quiet.  This quiet is… natural.  Warm, and.  Free.  Fleeting, allowed to roam.  In a way that hyperspace just feels compact, stifling.  “He said you have… brown eyes.  And a… a strong bone structure, striking features.  A sharp, chiseled jaw, dark facial hair.  And, uh.  He also said…”

Din keeps silently feeding the fire until it’s crackling and bright, and then he settles back on his butt next to it, both elbows resting on his knees, not moving the visor towards you but waiting for you to finish regardless. 

The stunning backdrop gives way to a stunning surge of bravery.

“He said you make a bunch of faces under there that nobody ever sees,” you say softly, blinking at Din in the fading twilight while the kid sits silently in your lap.  “That you’re an open book.  Behind a metal wall.  And you have a really nice smile, I bet—he bets… he bets you probably do it more often than anyone realizes.  And your… your hair starts to curl when you let it grow long, and.  And you’re almost guaranteed to be drop dead gorgeous under there, and it’s a real fucking shame that you’ve probably never had anyone tell you it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you, looks at you for a long time—long enough for blood to rush to your cheeks and for you to get fidgety.  But when he finally does respond, his voice is gentle through the modulator.  “He said that.”

You mhm at him quickly, nodding your head and turning away as casually as you can, heart beating incredibly fast for some reason.  “Just the translator.”

A lovely silence soon blankets the both of you, a warmth permeating through to your bones that has nothing to do with the steadily growing fire.

***

A little while later, the kid has retired to his reflective cradle and the dancing flames are the only source of light besides the bright moon hanging directly overhead.  Din sits with his back to the large boulder and digs through the bag, pulling out all sorts of food you picked up before leaving the village this morning and handing them to you.  Something red and unfocused flashes oddly against the curve of his helmet when he reaches his hand back in, but it’s only for a second—he’s already pushing more food at you and filling your arms with bags of dried meats, fresh fruit, and loaves of bread.

“Stars,” you whisper under your breath, examining the feast in the flickering firelight.  “Here, take—take some of this, it’s too much.”

“There’s more in here,” he counters lowly, zipping the bag and dropping it somewhere on the other side of his body.  “The kid hasn’t eaten all day.  Might crawl away and catch himself a Gungan later if you don’t feed him soon.”

“No, I mean—” you let all the food drop into your lap and start sorting the items, “—you need to eat.  What do you want?  There’s plenty.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers, far too quickly to have actually taken a moment to check.  “Just give me whatever you two don’t eat when you’re finished, I’ll put it back in the bag.”

Okay, if he’s gonna play it like this, you’ll just have to choose for him.  You’ve already dedicated at least two bags of dried meat to the kid, which takes care of him.  So, you take an extended moment to methodically find the ripest fruit in the bunch, the one with the most squish to it, and then search for the softest loaf of bread, not caring that Din is silently watching you.  You gather both of them in your arms and then pluck three bags of meat from the pile, before depositing all of them back into his lap.

“Eat,” you urge quietly, grabbing another portion of food for yourself, heavy on the fruit.  “Don’t inhale it.  Please.”

With that, you grab the kid’s food and then scoop the little guy up from his shield with your free arm, standing and walking to the other side of the fire.  You carefully plop yourself down with your back purposefully to Din, the kid happily finding a place on your lap with his back to you and reaching six little fingers out for the food.

You start eating, and after a moment, you smile around the large bites of fruit at the sound of metal clinking against stone.  The baby, of course, refuses to even open the bag of dried meat you set in front of him, so you roll your eyes and do it yourself, hoping he’ll at least eat like an adult and give you some time to feed yourself.  But no—the fifty year old creep demands to be hand fed, and any other day, you wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

Today, you’re just really fucking.  Happy.

You’re unbelievably happy.  Having spent a few days on this gorgeous planet, your two favorite people in the galaxy with you.  It fills your heart with air.

You start out quiet, praying you aren’t bothering Din as he (hopefully) continues to relax and enjoy his food behind you.  You begin humming your favorite melody under the sound of the crackling flames, the source of heat burning pleasantly against the curve of your lower back, setting another piece of dried meat into the kid’s cute little mouth and only just slightly annoyed that he refuses to do this himself.  Admittedly though, you do love babying him, especially when he shows you his adorable little chompers.

One bite for him, two bites for you.  That’s the deal, even though you’re hungry and you deserve way more than double his food intake rate.  You try to be quiet enough that your gentle humming will get lost with the fire between you and Din, and he never says anything or tells you to cut it out, so you just continue to let your cheerful mood provide a quiet soundtrack to the moonlit evening.

Even better, you and the kid actually finish snacking before he does, and you’re more than willing to wait for him, thrilled that this is actually happening.  It’s so simple, such a throwaway thing, but.  Knowing he used to eat his meals as quick as he can and now he’s comfortable enough to just take a second and enjoy it… you don’t know, there’s something inherently meaningful about it, something that you specifically notice.  Something about this, about sitting around a fire and sharing a meal together for the first time—even with your back turned to him, it just feels… familial.  In a way.  More than it’s ever felt before.

You have a little moment.  It’s nice.  You drop your head back and gaze up at the night sky, in awe of how different the stars look from this side of the galaxy and remembering how far you’ve come.  The kid follows suit, leaning back against your tummy and blinking silently at the universe, the star-speckled sky reflecting in his gigantic dark eyes.

He starts to doze after awhile, listening to you hum softly to yourself, but the noise of a helmet finally lifting from the boulder and most likely fitting itself back in its rightful place snaps him awake just enough.  The kid pushes off you and waddles over to his dad, and you scoot yourself back over to your little log while he unceremoniously clamors up onto Din’s thighs.

Admittedly, it’s really fucking cute.  The visor moves just enough to watch him plop his little green butt down and find a comfy position on his lap, not helping but not preventing the movement either.  A heartwarming, silent kind of tolerance hardened men have for innocent little creatures that makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.  What a softie.

You sit there in companionable quiet, staring deep into the dancing firelight and losing track of time just a bit.  They’re hypnotic, the flames.  Crackling and popping, warming just the forward-facing parts of you and nearly burning your cheeks, but you love it.  Breathing in the woodsy campfire air, hearing the gentle breeze float through the field surrounding you, the quiet forest waving dark and deep in the distance.  The midnight sky stretches long above you and the stars seem… brighter than they were on Arvala-7.  They probably aren’t—that planet is practically abandoned and has almost no light pollution whatsoever compared to Naboo, but… maybe it’s because now they feel… in reach.  Something you can touch.  Interact with.  Something you can cover your eyes, blindly point at, and then say—that one.  That’s where we should go next.

After awhile—you have no idea how long—you blink your gaze over to Din and startle to find the helmet facing you directly, shamelessly, the kid completely passed out on his lap as the flames reflect in the visor.

Without intending to, you’re already thinking back to earlier today.  How quickly he bolted after you, how strong he was bringing you to the ground, pinning you under him and taking what was so rudely denied to him last night.

You didn’t actually finish, and you can still feel it simmering down low.  Din’s cum has been steadily leaking from you all day, and while you eventually became successful at blocking out the sensation, it suddenly slams to the forefront of your mind again.  The visor pierces deep into you while you start to squirm just a bit against the rough log pressed into your back.  You can still feel him when you flex your lower muscles, and you bite your lip and do it repeatedly while blinking at him, waiting, squeezing your thighs together and loving the reminder.

He still hasn’t said anything to you, and you start to get antsy under his stare.  Your body works itself up even more, fueled by the flames reflecting in his helmet.  After a few more moments of silent tension, you’ve finally had enough.

“Din,” you whisper, trying not to make it sound like a whine and his head quickly lifts when you didn’t even realize it was slightly tipped forward.  The helmet rolls back in a drowsy little circle, as if his neck is suddenly remembering the weight burdening it.  Embarrassment instantly floods you.  “Oh.  Shit.  I’m so stupid.  I’m sor—”

Only he’s already pushing himself up with his free arm, lethargic and drunk with exhaustion, not saying a single word as he sets the conked out kid in the cradle and closes the shield over his sleepy little head with the push of a button.

You bite your lip as he drags himself over to you, swinging a leg behind you and then dropping down without any ceremony, firmly inserting himself between the uncomfortable log and your back.  Your butt is shoved forward from the sudden displacement but he’s not done.  Din wraps both his arms around you and pulls, dragging you up onto his long torso while his legs close under you and you’re off the ground completely.

Oh Maker, he’s already thousands of times more comfortable than sleeping up against the log would be.  He makes the best bed in the galaxy, big and warm and firm under you, letting you stretch out long on him.  You lounge on his lap and drop your head to his shoulder, resting your arms on top of his as they drape heavy across your belly.

“Sorry,” he gruffs, voice low and rough through the modulator.  The filter rings sharp through your ear when it’s pressed up against his helmet like this.  “Just need a few hours.  Didn’t… didn't sleep great last night.”

You close your eyes and internally scold yourself, now taking responsibility for his lack of rest for the past two days.  Shit.  You don’t actively respond, feeling slightly put out, but your body is of another mind altogether.  It still continues trundling down the steep slope you shoved it towards earlier, when you stupidly thought he was giving you eyes under the helmet instead of him being passed out cold.  You wiggle against him just slightly under the guise of finding a comfortable position, but it has unintentional consequences.

You breathe out a soft sigh when your hips move over his cock, biting your lip at the sensation but trying so hard to stop it in its tracks.  He’s exhausted, and he already fucked the life out of you today, there’s no way he’ll want to go again this soon.  Except—then he shifts and mmms low in his throat.

“And you,” Din murmurs quietly, reaching a hand down to slowly push under your pants, “need to start being more honest with me.”

“What are you t—oh, stars,” you whisper, your body shuddering as one of his thick fingers slowly dips into your slit.

“Shit, you’re wet,” he groans, sinking his hand down lower to feel remnants of himself still easing its way out of you.  Your lashes flutter as your jaw drops, and his cock gets hard against your spine almost immediately.  “You’re fucking… soaked.  I—I asked if you came and you said yeah,” he whispers low to you, but you shake your head.  “Why’d you lie to me abo—”

“No, no—” you protest breathlessly, “—you asked if it was okay, and then I said—”

“You said it was good.  It’s not good if you didn’t cum,” he grunts quietly, and the tip of his finger now drawing tight circles over your clit makes it damn near impossible to argue.  “I didn’t fuck you right if you didn’t cum.  You should be fucked right.”

“Maker, you fuck me exactly how I need to be fucked,” you whimper, tilting your head until your lips are pressed against the curve of his helmet while his hand steadily works under your pants.  “And—oh, fuck, that’s… h-however you need to fuck me.”

“Fuck—obedient little thing…” he huffs, starting to rub harder over your clit.  “What I need is for you to cum.  From now on, you’ll tell me.  Say yes.”

“Yes,” you moan into the beskar, your eyes fluttering back at the slowly building pressure.

“Say, ‘yes, Din,’” he breathes.

“Yes, Din,” you dutifully repeat, lifting your hips up against his hand, and he groans softly through the modulator.

“Say, ‘Din, I need something to cum on’,” he whispers.

You’re delirious, you don’t even catch it before most of it is already out of your mouth.  “Din, I need something to c—” you cut off but he’s already reaching down between your bodies to ease his cock out, before yanking your pants down your ass just enough to position himself up against your entrance.

He rocks his hips up and he slides in easier than ever before, and you… don’t know what you’re expecting, but he surprises you nonetheless.  He doesn’t start thrusting into you at all.  Even though he’s rock hard inside you, thick and pulsing and breaking you open, he doesn’t move a single inch.  He just keeps himself there, continuing to rub circles around your clit and giving you exactly what he prompted you to ask for.

Something to cum on.

Your body tenses and squeezes him, and Din shushes you before you realize you were making noise.  His free hand comes up to settle tight over your mouth and guide you turn your head away from his helmet.  At first you think it’s because your heavy breathing was probably fogging the visor up, but no—his fingers leave your pussy for a split second and you hear him maneuver himself out of it.  The hollow noise it makes thunking to the ground is beginning to become your favorite sound in this universe.

But then of course, Din buries his face into your neck and starts talking again, whispering low praises behind your ear with that bassy, dark chocolate rasp, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing.  His fingers return to your cunt to slowly rub your clit and his cock throbs hotter than sin inside you, building your pleasure into a strong, slow crescendo.

You start to whimper unintentionally, but his hand is wrapped tight around your mouth, muting and confining the desperate sounds to your throat.  His finger presses down harder on your clit and his cock flexes inside you.

“That’s it, sw—sweet girl,” Din mutters, his voice interrupted by his own staccato breaths and tight gasps the longer he talks you through it, the longer he keeps himself perfectly still while engulfed in your drenched, fluttering cunt.  “That’s—that’s it, I can feel it c-coming.  Fuck—make it good for me, give me a good one—”

His words shove you right over a cliff you didn’t even realize was there until you were dangling over the steep drop for an extended moment like a cartoon.  Everything squeezes around him unbearably tight—your hands dig into his forearms, your back arches up against him, your pussy constricts his thick cock until you feel like you’re hurting the both of you with it, and Din’s breath catches next to your ear while you’re both suspended in thin air for a split second—

—before you’re convulsing in pure bliss, flooding his cock with cum while he rasps out, “good girl,” into the crook of your neck and rocks his hips up into yours.  The few heavenly inches of movement hits something jaw-dropping inside you and nearly makes you scream against his palm, launching your body even higher into mind-bending rapture.  Fucking Maker, you cum hard for him, on him, around him.  You downright drown his cock in your pleasure, suffocate it and work out the aching tightness in your pussy all over him until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mmm…” Din murmurs quietly, continuing to circle your swollen clit hard through the shattering aftershocks.  His voice is deep and sinful and vibrates your whole back with its frequency, but something underneath it also sounds as if he’s considering, before he seems to land on an answer to a wordless question he just asked himself.  “…One more.”

And, like the fucking Maker himself commanded it, another blazing hot wave of fire suddenly rips you apart and sends you spasming rhythmically around the throbbing cock buried inside you once again.  This one wrings you completely dry, robbing you of every sense.  The ragged whine you make behind his hand must be too loud—his fingers quickly tighten around your jaw and lock down, keeping you as still as possible while you give him everything you have to give.

Eventually the sparks die out and you’re left a shell of what you once were, clamping down hard on him and shuddering your bliss at the night sky.  He lays there silently under you, holding you as you fall back down to reality.  Your breathing is a mess and so is everything below your waist, and your whole body jerks when Din carefully slides his hand from your pussy and rubs gently over your thighs, your tummy, your chest.

“That was…” you croak out, trying to remember how to speak, “ … g-good.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck.  You can hear the gentle grin he’s hiding from you, knowing he completely incapacitated you.

“But what about—” you start to protest, when Din’s teeth sink into your flesh and your pussy seizes up tight around him, making him choke a hoarse little groan into your skin.

After a moment, he eases his throbbing cock out of you, and he resets your clothing while you whimper in distress.  “Go to sleep,” Din murmurs, before softly kissing your neck once more, and your eyes slowly droop against your will.  Fuck, his body beats a king size mattress any day of the week.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

He…

He isn’t.

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Man from the Sky

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: You were a Greek sea goddess, just enjoying a typical day of nothing when a strange new god dropped into your land.

Warnings: None yet. There is smut in future chapters already written. Will post more soon.

Notes: I’m aware that what we’d think of as ancient Greece well predates who we’d call the vikings and their like cruising around the seas. This doesn’t take place at the height of the Greek pantheon worship, but old enough in human history that some men still believed in both sets of deities.

Chapters: Next Chapter Here

My Masterlist

—————————

You dipped your feet a little deeper into the warm water as it lapped the edges of the rock you sat upon. The sea was calm today, and the wind gentle as the nymphs chatted around you about the usual things. A bit of gossip one had heard from a local river nymph, a new shipwreck one had found, status of a fish migration from another.

You wouldn’t exactly call it boring though, you specifically chose these more remote areas when you came ashore for this very reason. It was so much more unlikely for you to run afoul of mortals here, or even others of your own kind that you may not feel like putting on airs with at this very moment.

It was so quiet in fact, that you were considering getting up to go lay in the sand on the beach in a few minutes and enjoy a nice nap in the sunlight.

That was before the boom which echoed through the air all around you. Somewhat like thunder, but not quite as all the nymphs fell silent.

When nothing came after, you felt all their eyes then turning to you. Their voices piped back up soon enough, though the tones in them changed to all nerves now.

“Do you wish to leave, milady?”

“Could it be Zeus?”

“But it didn’t sound like him.”

“Is there a volcano nearby?”

“What else could it be?”

“I don’t know what it was, I’ve never heard that sound.” You finally said, though now looking inward to the land. You were at least sure that the sound was not of the sea. But you refused to give in to the nymphs’ skittishness too quickly. And without real reason to leave, eventually you all did start to relax again.

Yet then came the cries. “Goddess, mistress please!” That cry absolutely was from the land as you looked in time to see the river nymph you’d met earlier in the day now running from the tree line and down onto the sands. She stumbled slightly, just before reaching you where the sea met the rocks.

She was panting, clearly having run some distance as she continued. “I’m so glad to still find you here,” She bowed slightly, only because she didn’t know you well enough to realize you didn’t require this.

“What is it?” You asked simply, honestly more curious now than anything else. What could she have seen that would strike her so alarming? Any nymph worth their ilk would know every creature, every natural occurrence, all that existed within their lands.

“There is a man in the forest, he came from the sky!” Yet she continued quickly, sure you would only think of Olympus. “But I do not recognize him as one of your own family. And his clothing, he is not of our territory. This I am sure, my goddess. I watched him only long enough to see that he was very angry. I am afraid of his intentions here.”

A man? But not truly a man. Mortals did not come from the sky.

“An angry god?” You said, now standing as you then stepped down from the rocks. The forest belonged to Artemis truthfully. But being this close to the sea, you thought that the older goddess would forgive you this if it came down to it. She would rather the nymphs be protected you were sure from any childish acts of a god’s wrath that may now come into play here.

You had brought no armor, the possibility of battle so far from your mind when you’d come ashore today. But that didn’t mean you travelled completely defenseless. “Bring me my spear please.” You requested of the sea nymphs.

Though they were still anxious, they responded dutifully, one sinking beneath the waves before reappearing with the glinting weapon in hand. It shone a brilliant silver, sea foam still running off its blue spear tip as she handed it to you out of the water.

“Show me the way, and I will investigate this stranger.” You spoke plainly, hopping down onto the sands as you strode barefoot towards the forest, spear in hand. “We will keep our distance as best we can, we don’t seek conflict, understood?”

“Yes, milady.” You heard, the sea nymphs staying behind you as the river nymph moved in front to lead you upward, the sand transitioning to rocky soil and the sparse vegetation and trees beginning to increase as you climbed the hillside.

For the sea nymphs, you could hear them losing their footing here and there in the loose soil, themselves of course far more adapted to swimming the ocean’s depths at your side rather than hiking up into the forests.

You did hope you were not putting any of them in danger. But if you felt they truly were in harm’s way, you would have no qualms in telling them to retreat back to the water at once.

“Up ahead,” The river nymph whispered to you, pointing towards a clearing you could now see leveling off in the distance. But the opening looked so strange with the density of the other trees now around you.

“Was that always there?” You asked her, knowing something unnatural when you saw it, even when this far from the water.

“No,” She confirmed. “When the sky opened up, it carved out the land as well. He appeared when that force receded.”

“Understood.” You replied, though in truth not really understanding at all as you motioned for all the others to proceed no further. You’d never seen something like this. “I will go alone. If he should attack me, please return to the sea to seek help.”

They fidgeted, looking unhappy but not arguing your choice. “Please be careful, goddess.”

You nodded, but kept on slowly. You tried to remember what you’d been taught as a little girl about stalking and hunting on land. So many moons ago, running through the forests with Artemis and at times Pan, being mentored before returning to the sea to your father, mother, and so many siblings.

But the closer you came, the more you realized that the stranger would likely not notice any sound of light footsteps approaching or ground shifting. As you neared, you saw his form pacing back and forth in the clearing, seemingly cursing to himself in a language that was not your own.

Yet it still sounded familiar. Abruptly you knew where you had heard a dialect like this before. It sounded so much like those voyagers from the northern seas. The ones with their longboats and course beards, sometimes with hair as red as fire as they fished and sang and fought.

And he did look as pale as them as well. But with hair like black of night, and a frame far more slender than the burly mortals you’d seen rowing those northern boats along. And just as the river nymph had warned, his clothing confused you as well. Rich green robe, but with black and gold as well. It was wholly foreign and exotic to you in its styling, as was he.

When she’d said a strange man had arrived, honestly you had also expected someone older in appearance. He looked quite youthful to be honest, even as his brow remained furrowed and his fists clenched at his sides.

And just when you thought his feet may actually cut a path in the earth from his agitated pacing, he finally slowed, then stopped all together.

This is when you froze as well, knowing you now had a decision to make. Should you keep to your hiding, just to hope he should eventually leave in whatever fashion he came? Or should you reveal yourself to question his identity and purpose here?

“Done spying yet, or do you intend to actually do something with that spear?” A cutting voice spoke abruptly to your side, so suddenly that you almost lost your footing, shocked as the same man emerged from behind other trees only feet from you.

But you still saw him in the clearing as well, at least you did momentarily before the image of him there dissolved, leaving only the form now nearest you.

“You speak my language?” Was all you questioned instead of answer him though, as he had said those last words only in your tongue. You also kept focusing on backing away as you chose to keep a safer distance. He was some sort of illusionist at least then, which could escalate the danger here very quickly if he made you lose your bearings.

And he was starting to circle you a bit you realized as he began to walk again. But you willed yourself to keep your spear at a neutral position, rather than aim at him, still not intending to provoke attack if it could be prevented. You had no idea what other strengths he might have, and your primary goal was still to keep the nymphs from getting caught in any crossfire.

“Not all of us are so uneducated,” He snapped back at you, still in your language, though you could detect that foreign accent underneath.

You were not wholly unused to rudeness though, yet it had been a very long time since you could recall being spoken to directly in such a manner. It was more the bickering between others in the palace that you were sometimes forced to be party to. Which was only another reason you often favored the relative isolation of the mortal world.

“You need not be so offended, stranger. I only came to see who had entered our land, and to protect my friends if need be.” You answered as reserved in tone as you could.

“Then you have done your duty, girl, and can now be gone. I came here to be alone. If I was actually intending to plunder this wasteland of nothingness, your little cohort never would have made it back to you to begin with.”

You stared, a little coldness entering your eyes then. So that was what had given you away. He’d already been aware of the river nymph to begin with, and had been waiting for someone to return the entire time while leaving that illusion of himself still in the clearing as distraction.

And he’d actually referred to you as ‘girl’. Did he really think you just one of the nymphs then? It was hard to say if he was intentionally trying to goad you, or if he really was so unfamiliar to not realize you for what you actually were.

You straightened a bit, replying, “Insults to our homeland aside, I will leave you to this quiet then, if you should at least tell me your name. You are clearly not of Olympus, and we still have right to know who it is who traverses into this particular land of mortals which we hold sovereignty over.”

He scoffed, clearly wishing to not speak to you even a moment longer. But in the way his chest puffed slightly, you thought it was only pride then that made him physically incapable of denying his identity.

He actually moved closer to you as well, that agitation still rising further in his voice. “Little fool, you stand before Loki! Son of Odin the Allfather. I am god of mischief, prince of Asgard. Your witless mortals should count their blessings that an Asgardian should ever see fit to even set foot here!”

You didn’t know if you’d been quick enough to mask the true surprise from your face. You had already assumed him a god. But never...never had you actually laid eyes on an Asgardian. They never came to this part of the world as far as you knew. And was he telling the truth? Was he really a son of Odin?

This stranger’s arrogance aside, if he were a child of Odin, you knew your own father would be furious with you if you were intentionally insulting now. Asgard and Olympus had never had the closest ties, but you were not enemies either. Asgard was honored by the mortals of the north, and Olympus still honored by those of the south, though perhaps not quite as much as the true olden days.

It took real will, but you bowed graciously to him in return. “It is an honor to meet you then, Loki, son of Odin.” As you straightened up, in his eyes you could see he was trying to judge you as sincere or not. But you just continued smoothly. “As promised, I shall leave you to your thoughts then. But I would be unmannered to not offer my assistance should you need a hostess in your time here as a guest in our land. My name is (Y/N), daughter of-”

You hesitated only the briefest moment, “of the sea,” is what you decided on though. Unlike Loki, you preferred a little anonymity with strangers. You didn’t wish to be targeted just for your lineage.

And with that, you turned, beginning to walk back towards the beach, even as you finished talking. “If you should need me, you need only find the sea’s edge and call for me. One of our creatures will hear you soon enough and seek me out.”

But some odd part of you regretted not being able to see his expression as you left. You wondered if you only would have seen more disdain and condescension at your offer.

Regardless, he said nothing else and soon enough you were back on the sand, the nymphs chittering in a mix of horror and awe around you.

“Who does he think he is, speaking to you that way!?”

“Do you really think he’s of Asgard? Shouldn’t we alert your father?”

“Why would he even come here? He seemed so bitter. Do you think they cast him out?”

“I’d cast him out, with a dirty attitude like that!”

You looked to the horizon, just taking a breath. “I don’t think we need to rush and tell my father just yet. But I do know where I want to go now.” You looked to the river nymph briefly though, “Please have those in the forest keep a distant eye on him. Should he leave or do anything else of note, please let us know.”

You glanced back to the sea nymphs then. “The rest of you return to the oceans. I’m going to Olympus, to the libraries there. I want to find out more about Asgard, to see if he is who he says he is. I’ll return to the water soon.”

They all nodded, “Yes, milady. Please let us know what you find!”

“I will,” you agreed, just watching them dissolve back into the waves.

Were you excited perhaps? Or just very curious? Nothing interesting in this way had happened in ages. You were determined to learn all you could on this new arrival.

—————————

The Olympians had been a little surprised to see you gracing the halls there. So many of your cousins had dropped in time and again to say hello, curious themselves of why you were out of the water this long and seemingly such a bookworm all of the sudden.

And you did read for days. All you could find on Asgard, on Odin, the Norse mortals, and their language. You found record that Odin had born two sons, honestly an oddly low number you thought in comparison to the many children of your own kings.

But there in these tomes, were those two names, Thor and Loki. Thor, god of thunder, amusing of course in comparison to Zeus, king of all, including lightning. But also Loki, god of mischief, just as he’d said.

You were surprised, but enthralled as you actually found a drawing of Loki within the book. Though not completely accurate you thought, you still recognized that type of clothing. The green and gold, and the pale skin and black hair with his icy blue eyes. You tilted your head a little, looking at the gold helmet he wore in the artist’s depiction, with long horns curving from it like those of a great beast.

Was he really a beast? Or just a too arrogant manchild? And why did you increasingly wish to find out?

—————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[vina-writes]

Ten Favorite Drarry Fic Recs

I’ve reached a bit of a follower milestone, and I thought, why not celebrate? I’m happy! This is an incredible feeling that I honestly can’t fully articulate in writing. Knowing someone enjoyed my work and presence enough that they’d want to be notified if I posted again just makes me squeal and want to hug everyone from joy!! Thank you to anyone who has ever left me kudos, a comment, a tag, a note, an emoji, a tag emoji!! I am endlessly grateful to you all for this support and kindness.

Now, since it’s party time, I’ve compiled a personal list of my ten favorite Drarry fics to share the love. This is by no means a stamp of quality (as there are thousands of brilliant fics out there) and neither is it a guarantee that these are everyone’s cup of tea. But they are certainly my cup of tea— my whole buffet honestly.

I chose fics that made me feel deeply. Fics that made me cry, laugh, throw my phone, squeal and wiggle and dance at the end. These (mostly) weren’t fics which answered deep philosophical questions. They were fics which instead showed me love and adventure, joys and betrayals, misunderstandings and occasionally unbelievable (but appreciated) levels of smut (you know who you are). These are stories I read to be entertained, entranced, delighted, and happy. These are stories that made me feel in love.

In honor of that (and of my Canva addiction) I’ve made little banners for each. I hope they do some justice to these works. I’ve tried to capture the feeling of each fic in just one image. Without further ado, read on to find out exactly what my guilty pleasure (as if Drarry isn’t enough) is:

The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley [E, 18k] 

Summary: Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.

This story. Oh my stars, this story. What can I even say to properly express how I feel about it? This is the Romeo and Juliet, the Pride and Prejudice, the Hades and Persephone of Drarry. Reading this made me feel like an unwedded Victorian lass waiting for her Prince Charming. It’s a wonderful Historical AU that throws around power dynamics and questions of who is worthy of love, freedom, and respect despite them. This is a brilliant portrait of deep romantic love. Harry’s dedication to Draco is all-encompassing, beautiful, intense, intimate— earth shattering, really. The way they fall in love despite class and situation made me want to cry and write poetry. This is a true fairytale romance.

The Pirate and the Prince by @nerdherderette​, maniacani [E, 49k]

Summary: Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

The moment I started this story I knew it was going to be an instant favorite. It’s swashbuckling, debonair yet disheveled, dangerous, fun, adventurous— everything you could desire from a romance on the high seas! Though they come from very different backgrounds, this Draco and Harry are a power couple to the core. Their romance is once again beautiful, intense, and dedicated, but this time it’s mixed with a healthy dose of self-exploration and mutual acceptance. But apart from romance this fic holds delicious secrecy and identity issues, an astounding knowledge of sailing ships, plenty of piratey shenanigans, some heart-wrenching found family dynamics, a cursing parrot, and a glorious angst with a happy ending finale! 

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats [E, 104k]

Summary: Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

What can I say about Soup-pocalypse? It will lure you in with tales of Veelas and romance, and then it will kidnap you and throw you in cooking class and therapy. You’ll come out wondering what just happened and how two days have passed. There will, of course, be Veelas and romance aplenty, but it will be a caring romance, a familial romance, a supportive and kind and nurturing romance. This story feels like family, good cooking, sunny days, the deep heartbreak of change, and through all of it, the truth of a real and solid partnership. This is the humorous yet angst-ridden tale of two idiots learning to love as adults, and then in turn learning to face the world together.

you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakickass [M, 20k]

Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Right then. On to the angstiest story I’ve ever read and truly enjoyed. Not just enjoyed, adored! Worshipped! Come back to time and again whenever I needed a good cry! Here is the beauty of it: this fic is deeply painful and heartbreaking, yet it steers clear of emotions like disgust and discomfort. Never once was it disturbing— only sorrowful, in the purest and most heart-wrenching way. Yet despite the pain strung throughout the majority of it, this fic left me feeling relieved and rejuvenated, the way one feels after crying their heart out over something simple. It’s an emotional release that does not leave you broken.

On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [E, 84k]

Summary: During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.

Truly one of my favorite takes on canon divergence. Truly. This is an exploration of isolation and the joys and comforts that come with it. It is the power couple Drarry to rule them all— a Draco and Harry so strongly connected, in love, and attuned to one another that the world could fall at their feet. This story leaves you on the edge of your seat until the very bitter end— one of those where the second things are briefly peaceful the world goes up in a new set of flames. Those of you who daydream about a partnership that needs no others, two souls who are each other’s family, friend, and future, and would gladly abandon everything to spend eternity alone together: this is for you.

The Arc of the Pendulum by brummel [E, 30k]

Summary: After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.

Yes. YES. YES!!! The Beauty and the Beast take you didn’t know you needed! Still canon-compliant to an extent, this is realistic and raw and incredible. Draco makes the choice to help Harry here, and the vulnerability of their interactions while Harry struggles with the curse is everything you could hope it to be. There’s a distinct fairytale atmosphere in this fic— both of them confined together, finding support and comfort in one another while struggling through the effects of the curse, and falling in love along the way. I could write sonnets about the ending using my tears for ink, but they shan’t be revealed here.

Picking Up Pieces by Tessa Crowley [E, 43k]

Summary of Part One: Fifteen years after the War, Draco is a social recluse and award winning author. Harry is an auror who works too hard, ensuring his old war wounds never heal. They meet at a masque ball, unaware of each other's identities. In another situation, it would have been love at first sight. But for them, it would never be so simple.

Picking Up Pieces deserves no introduction, but if you haven’t read it yet, please find a blanket, and cup of tea, and a quiet place to read, cry, and recover. I sobbed my little heart out through the entire second half— the tears were really never ending. How does it end up on a reclist by a fluff lover like me? The answer is similar to Antidote— though this story broke me apart, it was never twisted nor ugly, never disturbing. It was an incredibly touching tale of redemption, forgiveness, human nature, and recompense. The writing does put you through the emotional wringer, but it leaves you relieved and whole. I would lay down my life for this Draco. He truly needs to be protected and loved at all costs. Even though I’m usually careful when recommending heavy stories, I would encourage everyone to read this— it made me feel new, it made me feel like I’d spent an hour crying in the shower, but most of all, it really did make me happy.

Two Trees by LakeWitch [E, 36k]

Summary (shortened): In his Eighth year at Hogwarts, part of Draco Malfoy's probation is to see a Mind Healer once a week. Another part, unfortunately, is having to take Muggle Studies.

It wouldn't be so bad, really, if it weren't for the mandatory outing—a 'field trip'—booked at a Muggle lakeside retreat for the better part of five days. [...] Draco is determined to get it all over with as painlessly as possible. He'll keep his head down, and stay out of everyone's way. That is, until Pansy tells him—at the very last moment—that she's schemed to have Draco stay in the same room with Potter for the whole trip.

Just the two of them... in one room.

This is the comfort fic of all comfort fics. It feels like camping, like sitting by a lake in the sun, like marshmallows over a fire and sparks against a starry sky, and cool, feather-soft hotel sheets. Draco is dealing with several different anxieties here, but the brilliant setting and easy plot turn them into a cathartic read. This is a fic about young love and the ability to build bonds on trips. It made me remember my first crushes and the feeling of getting breakfast in a hotel lobby. There’s cuddling, there’s love, there’s some highly emo Draco (both warranted and unwarranted), and there’s a truckload of nature. Go read it!

Your Place Or Mine? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark​ [E, 26k]

Summary: "This person is so much harder to hate. And I’m supposed to hate Malfoy. How the fuck else am I supposed to limit this to just sex?" 

At first I was like, “Damn, Harry,” but then I was all, “Damn Harry!” but then I went, “DAMN Harry!” (interspersed with a lot of whistling and cursing). I could have slapped him, and you will want to. This is another Draco that deserves endless love and hot chocolate, with a Harry that deserves a good smack. I think about this fic weekly, and not just because it’s endlessly hot— although it is scorching hot, like how do you even write something that hot type of hot. Draco’s pining and Harry’s stupidity makes for the angstiest yet most satisfying friends-with-benefits-but-really-there’s-more combination, and the climax (pun intended) and resulting spill of emotions is everything anyone could hope for. Ten out of ten.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken​ [T, 19k]

Summary (shortened): Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship...

This thing of beauty is exactly as hilarious as it sounds. However, it is so much more than the endless laughs (although there are many). It is sweet, tender, touching, and filled with glorious pining and misunderstandings. Inside you’ll find extravagant (the word was literally invented for Cibee’s Draco) outfits, confusing customs, a blanket that brought me to tears, one badass house-elf, one very confused beloved, absolutely no fornication (wink), and one hopelessly smitten pureblood. Be warned, this fic is actually three “What the fuck, Draco?”s in a trenchcoat. I read it when I want to laugh, facepalm, and submerge myself in the adorable stupidity that is Draco Malfoy in love. It is well worth your time and is sure to bring a smile to your face.

With this final fic we conclude my list on a happy note! It’s long, it’s tedious, and I had a spanking good time writing it. I hope these bring some joy or happy tears to your day.

Love, Vina