#which was granted to her along with her title

[onedivinemisfit]

Reminiscing 💔

My first time participating in the Obiyuki AU Bingo in years~ the prompt was “video game” so ofc I had to do something Rimworld-related <w< the now-baroness and baron Shirayuki and Obi having a tender moment outside of their settlement, mourning the loss of two of their sons, Dario and Fukuro. They lost their lives to a flu outbreak. As head medic, Shirayuki took their deaths particularly hard.

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

[evieelyzabethh]

"taste"

☆"you're wonderin' why half his clothes went missin', my body's where they're at"☆ Wearing Arcane characters clothes {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, a bit of fluff, Viktor calls reader a whore, a bit suggestive for all of them

an: this is the case for all my titles, but I feel I should clarify; the songs are not meant to accompany the headcanons, I just get lazy when naming things so I cherry pick song lyrics then use the title lol.

♞Vi♞

♞Vi never thought she would have to worry about her clothes going missing. They're all tattered and torn, holey from all the times she's been cut or stabbed, blood stained from all her injuries throughout the years, and absolutely falling apart at the seams. Hell, her own shirts are so ruined she usually just walks around in chest binding bandages. Granted, stealing Vi's clothes started from an accident of convenience.

You didn't think anything of it as you slipped on the old thing, the writing so faded you could no longer make out the outlines of the letters and the color so sun-bleached it just looked a dull beige. There were holes along the shoulder blade, rib cage, and chest, the hems had long since unraveled, and the neckline had been cut. It Vi wasn't so averse to throwing things out, it's home would've been the garbage can ages ago. But still, it was comfy and clean and something of hers, so you pulled it over your head and carried on into the laundry room where you sat on top of your washing unit, vibrating along with the clunky machine beneath you. You decided to read as you wait, eventually become so engrossed with your book, you miss the sounds of Vi trudging her heavy feet across the floor as she returns from her most recent bout of getting her ass kicked. She hums her way around the space, painfully shrugging her jacket over her aching shoulders, enroute to the laundry room where she finds you, ankles crossed with some old mystery book in your hands. She gawks at you for a moment, not quite knowing what to say at the sight of you in her clothing. It looked good on you. Well, everything looked good on you, but this looked right. "Did you get all dressed up for me, pretty? You jump a bit at the sudden intrusion of her slightly gravelly voice, but eventually relax into her warm, musky presence. She knows how you feel about her smearing her bloody lips across your freshly showered skin, so she bites her lip to swallow her urges. "Depends, did you get yourself all battered just so I could patch you up?" She snickers, wiping the remnants of dried blood from her top lip. "Will my honest earn me a pre-shower kiss?" Of course, you nod your head. You have a very hard time denying her, not even bothered by the feeling of her gauze bound hands grip on your thighs and your skin beneath her shirt. She whimpers, leaning heavily onto the washer, her fingers likely leaving marks from how desperately she grabs at you for stability and her own sanity. She doesn't realize until the adrenaline wears off how much tonight did a toll on her, pulling away from the kiss to rest her head on your shoulder. "You need help to the shower?" "Yeah", she murmurs, hardly louder than a whisper, holding onto your waist as you hop down and sling your arm over her shoulder. "No more pit fighting for a while?", you question lightly, to which she responds by pulling a hefty bag of coins from her pants pocket. "Not for a few months."

★Ekko★

★Ekko has a commune, he is absolutely no stranger to sharing, especially when it comes to clothes. As many times as you have snuck a few of his jackets over the years, he has taken his fair share of your tops, liking the way they constrict and show the definition of his biceps and show off his sculpted lower abdomen. You swap rings, hair ties, and all sorts of accessories, it's another way that you two are visually all over each other. I also wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to buy things knowing they would eventually end up in your closet.

★This being said, you would have better luck getting a reaction out of him showing up wearing nothing rather than in his clothes, at least clothes that aren't important to him. He's so desensitized to the idea of sharing; a regular hoodie wouldn't get him going. Wearing something of his though, his jacket, his mask, replicating how he does his face paint, that would certainly get him. It's the explicit connection to him that gets him, it's you proudly wearing an echo of Ekko.

It was cold and wet and dreary. The sky was grey, and murky puddles formed in the innumerable cracks and crevasses in the dirty floor of the Undercity that the ground began to look like a muddy sea of water. It was the perfect day to be inside, maybe make some warm soup, put on a vinyl and pretend the crackley sound bites are early lightning bolts, and bundle up beside Ekko and call it a day before the sun went down. This was not the case as Ekko was out covering the gardens so they wouldn't be flooded by impure water and preparing for any potential storm surge, leaving you home alone, wrapped in his favorite jacket. You doubted it would be a big deal, it's not like he's ever been upset about borrowing his clothes without asking before, but his reaction when he returns home scares you for a moment. His eyes are closed as he walks through the door, carelessly toeing off his shoes, lifting up his already soaked shirt to wipe the running face paint before it gets into his eyes. From your place on the couch, you look out the window for the first time in hours to see it pouring down, the droplets pelting on your windows and the wind sending the occasional pebble flying at the glass. "I'm telling Scar to do this shit next time, it's too damn w- oh." He freezes, midway through yanking off his raincoat, eye's slightly irritated as they stare at you. oh? "Is that my jacket?" You falter a bit. "Yeah...is that ok?" You had no plans of going out in it, wearing only some old cotton shorts whose elastic waistband snapped years ago and a thin tank top. You didn't even have a bra on. He collects himself though, smirking as he looks you up and down, how good the color compliments your complexion, drinking in the slivers of skin, the sight of your nipples through your top. Of course it's ok, in what fucking world would it not be? "Yea, baby, it's fine." His mumbles, his voice lower and his eyes a bit wide. "You look good in it, too. C'mere, do a spin for me."

❂Jayce❂

❂This man is 6'7 and built like a brick shithouse, his clothes absolutely swallow you and he thinks it's adorable. He gets a fit of cuteness aggression, he just wants to squeeze and hug and kiss you until you pop. It speaks to that part of him that is quite aware of his sheer size, his biceps are the size of your head, you have to look up just to make eye contact with him, his clothes practically fall right off you. He's just so...big.

He awakes slightly startled and feeling empty, immediately feeling your lack of warmth in his arms and slightly panicking. It's too early in the morning to be rational and his frequent nightmares are doing him no favors. He hates waking up alone and cold, he feels like he's waking up in that cave again. His senses calm his rapidly beating heart, the comforting smell of coffee and something syrupy sweet, the sound of something sizzling on the stove. He throws the comforter off him, cringing at the feel of the cold floor on his feet before he throws on some socks and sweatpants to wander around half-asleep in. His brain short circuits when he sees you, his large shirt practically hanging off your shoulders, flowing around your bruised and kiss-bitten thighs. You moved lithely around the kitchen, going back from chopping strawberries for the waffles, stirring the eggs, flipping the bacon, and he's man enough to admit he's blushing a bit. You made breakfast for him! That's so cute. He slides behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, bending down to plant kisses on your neck. "My shirt looks really good on you, gorgeous." You giggle, turning around to face the big man behind you who picks you up by your hips to set you on the countertop, settling in between your thighs. "You think?" He hums. "Maybe a few sizes too big, but it's endearing. You look like a little fairy, like I could carry you around in my pocket all day." And his eyes are big and out of focus, that charming gap-toothed smile on display as his hands rub over your smooth skin, pushing his shirt higher and higher. Too big is certainly a familiar sentiment, how desperately you were crying that out just last night is still looping in his brain as he says it. "Maybe I'm normal sized, and you're just a giant. Have you ever thought of it that way?" He chuckles. More times than you can imagine.

☽Viktor☾

☽Hard immediately, next question. His work outfits look completely normal on him, but the buttons pop at your chest and the vests accentuate them in a way that's pornographic. Even his ties only serve to enhance the fantasy, even though they are the exact garments he wears to his lab every day. There is nothing innately sexual about it at all, but that's the fun of it. The fact thar you chose to wear that black lacy bra that you knew would show through the top, the way you wear his reading glasses low on your nose, the red bottom heels that you wear, which in any other context could be seen as perfectly appropriate work attire. It's the performance of it that he appreciates.

He knows exactly what game you are trying to play with him, no matter how hard you try and play coy. There is no way that you accidently shrunk your blouse in the wash, hell, he knows that's not your blouse because the buttons are on the wrong side for it to be female attire. He knows that's his tie, he is one thousand percent sure that if he was to yank you by it and check the underside, he would see his initials embroidered. He knows you left it loose on purpose, you have requested for the entire relationship to pick out and tie his ties for him, he knows you can make it tighter. Everything is utterly loose, for lack of a better word. The top button is undone, the tie isn't completely tucked under the collar, the slit of your skirt is not where it should be. It's a play at looking professional that you and him both know is just a test to see how long it takes for him to crack and rush you both home. At first, he's willing to play ball because you always crack first, but today, however, you decided to be serious about your productivity. He tries to focus, he really does, but after a while the clicking of your heels becomes too hypnotic, the fake attempts at adjusting your tie begin to pile onto the sexual frustration, and you lean over one too many times, giving him a good whiff of your perfume and oh you went with a red bra to match his red tie. He waits for Jayce to leave the room, slamming the book he was 'reading' shut as he lets out a very aggravated breath. "I want my shirt back." Cut and dry, his hand flipping the tie you're wearing to confirm that is indeed his. You smirk, and he would feel the need to wipe it off your face had it not been for the fact that he swallowed his pride hours ago after his hard on became too much to ignore. "You want it back now? Right here." And you're already slipping off the other buttons and he contemplates whether it's worth it to barricade the door with the table to buy you more time or be rational and tell you to stop. "Had I known you planned on being a whore today, I wouldn't have invited you over." You pout as he pulls the knot of his tie, grabbing your hands to bind your hands. "But don't I look pretty, Vik?" He rolls his eyes. "You look magnificent, love."

☼Mel☼

☼Like Ekko, she isn't a stranger to sharing clothes with you. Even if it's not hers, she has an exact replica tailored just for you. This being said, she loves playing dress up with you with her clothes. Anytime she needs to clear out her closet or has an article of clothing she doesn't know how to feel about or just gets bored, she'll call you to wherever she is and request you be her doll for a little bit.

Though you had been in Mel's closet for what had to have been hours at this point, you couldn't really complain. Never had you felt more pampered in your life, tens of gowns, trousers, and blouses gracing your skin as you twirled on the platform in Mel's closet as she analyzed the garment from every angle. Now you stood in something white and flowy, the sleeves long, the bodice double lined for winter weather, the hemline off the shoulders and trimmed with fur, the bottom thick and heavy. "What do you think lovey? Do you think it's too on the nose, you know I've never been the biggest fan of fur." Her hand feels across your chest, dusting off where some of the fluff had fallen and rubbing the soft material in her hands. "I don't see you in fur, it's too much of your mother's thing, but I do think it's nice. The lining is really nice on the skin, sorta has a fleece feel to it." She nods, moving her hands along your waist to connect with the silver zipper. She clucks her tongue. "Would I be silly to not wear it because the zipper isn't gold. I know it's a miniscule detail, but I really don't do silver." You chuckle as you look around her closet, a room larger than the bedroom you grew up in filled with racks of clothes that had some sort of golden sheen, be it from the color of the fabric, some sort of metallic accent, or a reflection from the general vibe of the room. "My love, you have so many clothes in here I doubt you would wear it regardless." She smiles. "Are you getting tired of this." You hesitate, which is plenty answer enough for her. You had been standing for hours at this point, and your back was starting to ache from how straight your back had been. "Do you have it in you for just one more. I promise, it'll be quick." She already has it out of the box, a very small party dress that you had never seen her wear before. "I bought it months ago but have been going back and forth between whether or not it would look better on me or you." Of course, you oblige, and she giggles as she zips you out of the dress, carefully sliding it off until the fabric pools around your nearly naked body. Her tunnel vision is briefly abandoned as her movements slow, lingering over the curves of her body, her fingernail tracing tiny hearts on the skin of your chest. "I know I say this every time, but you truly do look beautiful out of everything. Undressing you may be my favorite part of this." You playfully roll your eyes. "Stop being a flirt and just zip me into the dress, I want lunch."

[artist-issues]

If you haven’t seen Wish yet and you love Disney, do not go see it. I am telling you now. It is ripping out the hearts of the Disney movies you love and then waving their corpses around as if celebrating those hearts.

I’ll explain why, again: the message of Wish? Awful. Anti-Disney.

But they've been doing this for a long time. Saying one thing with their movies, and saying another with their PR and Disney Parks Soundtracks.

I'll explain.

Main Idea of Disney's Wish (and the You Are the Magic theme park song and merch): "The power to make your wishes come true is in you."

≠

Most Disney Movies' Idea on How to Have Wishes: "Do what's right, (trust a higher power) and something even more wonderful than what you wished will happen."

Don't try to argue with me about this. You have to look underneath the slogans and the sweater designs and the song titles to what the stories actually support to acknowledge this.

Because you can’t say “do what’s right” has power unless you answer the question “who gets to decide ‘what’s right?’” (Which, coincidentally, is a question Wish brings up and then doesn’t answer.)

Audiences of Disney used to accept that wishing on a star was much like prayer; there’s something you long for, and it’s out of your hands, but you wish for it and you do what you know is right in the meantime. And you’re not crushed, you’re not downhearted, because somewhere in your mind you trust that the combo of those two things—wishing on a higher power and diligence to do what’s good—will be what makes your wish come true.

Trust in a higher power—COMBINED WITH:

—diligence to do what’s good.

The Blue Fairy (higher power) gave Geppetto his wish specifically because he had demonstrated commitment to do good, whether he got what he wanted or not. The Fairy Godmother (higher power) gave Cinderella her wish specifically because she kept on being kind and good to low creatures like mice and wicked stepsisters, whether she got what she wanted or not.

Do you know why that combo (higher power + diligence to do good) is impactful? Timeless? Important?

Because it’s selfless. You want something, but you’re not going to sacrifice doing the right thing to get it. You’re not going to focus so hard on making what you want a reality, on your own, that you miss out on things that could be more important than what you want. And, you’re not so self-focused as to believe that if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.

Jeez, that’s the whole point of The Princess and the Frog!

Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant, and she believes that only her own hard work will grant that wish. She misunderstands her dad’s advice before he dies. She isn’t willing to trust a higher power combined with her own diligence to do good—she only trusts her own ability.

It’s not until she realizes that Ray, the character of faith, was right all along that she learns—what she wished for was too self-focused. It wasn’t complete without love. Something bigger than herself. And getting that was never going to happen just based on her own hard work.

But you know what? It was never going to happen just by a “higher-power” flavored shortcut, either. Because Facilier offers her her wish if she’ll just trust him, no hard work needed. But what does she say?

Trust in a higher power + diligence to do what’s right = selflessness, and getting more than you could have ever wished for. And if your wish is selfish, doing those two things will change your wish into something selfless.

More examples? Get ‘em while they’re hot, in case Wish made you forget, just like the current #NotMyDisney executives have forgotten, what real Disney wishes are for.

Belle wishes to have adventures in the great wide somewhere--but when she's imprisoned and that chance is taken from her it's not reversed because she worked hard to make her wish come true. It's granted because she gave up her wish for her father: she just did the right thing, regardless of her wish. And in the end, she does get what she wished for, which is adventure in an enchanted castle...and much more, because she gets true love, a throne, and a castle full of friends.

How about the One Who Started It All? The one Wish is failing to pay genuine tribute to?

Snow White wishes for someone to love her, and he does--but when they're separated, she does not exercise power to make The Prince come back to her. Instead, she loves who she can where she’s at—the Dwarfs. In the meantime, she has faith that he will keep his promise, and that pure trust in a higher power outside of her control is a big contributing factor to why the Dwarfs come to love her, and learn from her...and in the end, even more than she could've wished happens. He does take her to his castle, but she also has seven new friends who also love her, and the Queen is dead. And she didn’t need to use “the power in her” to work harder and get it done. She just needed to not focus so much on herself at all.

How about a male main character? One who’s wish starts out selfish, but after learning to wish on a higher power and be diligent to do the right thing, gets more than he could wish for?

Aladdin wishes to be somebody different (somebody he believes Jasmine could love, somebody who lives in a palace and is respected and “never has any troubles at all.”)—but doing everything in his own power for that wish proves that it was selfish all along; so he switches to doing the right thing, regardless of if his wish comes true, and he gets even more than he could’ve wished. He gets real love with Jasmine, he gets his friend Genie, and he gets to be free from feeling “trapped” because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore.

Or Simba?

Simba wishes to get to do whatever he wants as King—but when Mufasa dies and he’s convinced it’s his fault, it isn’t for that wish that he goes back to Pride Rock to confront his past and his Uncle. It’s because he had an encounter with a higher power—his father—that helped him to realize his wish was selfish all along. He gives up the selfish wish, and he goes back to take his place as king, not so he can do whatever he wants, but so that he can take self-sacrificial responsibility that comes with ruling. And because he just does the right thing, finally, he gets more than what he wished for.

How about something more recent? Zootopia.

Judy wishes to make the world a better place by proving she can be what she wants to be and catching bad guys—but when she tries to make her wish happen on her own, in her own abilities, she fails and is forced to realize that she should’ve been looking for help by understanding “bad guys,” like Nick. It’s only after she humbled herself, admits she’s wrong, and changes her wish from “proving I can be what I want and catching bad guys” to “proving that understanding each other makes the world a better place” (much less self-focused) that her wish comes true—and so much more. She does make the world a better place, and she does get to catch bad guys, but she also gets to befriend one who was a good guy all along, and become all-around more effective at her dream job.

This is how Disney always has been. Because it’s at the heart of good storytelling, and even life (not to get too dramatic.)

The power is not in you. Because it’s not about you. Self-sacrifice, faith, and doing the next right thing regardless of if you get your heart’s fondest desire is what makes more than just your wishes come true. And there has to be belief in a higher power to make that message powerful.

But Wish?

Not only is it bad at showing instead of telling. Not only is it lazy and soulless.

But it’s characters rip the Star out of the sky and say “don’t wish on this. Wish on yourself, to get what you wish for. You don’t need a higher power. You don’t even need to sacrifice to do what’s good—whatever you do is good, because you are the one doing it.”

That is wrong. That is not true, and it is not powerful. There’s no sacrifice in focusing on or placing your trust totally in yourself, and it undoes every good thing Disney has done up until now.

And it undoes it on the 100th anniversary, and it flaunts Easter eggs of the very things it’s undoing.

[recklesssezon]

𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗶

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | aitana bonmati x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | aitana can't stop thinking about you

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | none

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | this been sitting in my drafts for months hehe

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Aitana met you.

Two weeks stuck in a limbo, wishing to see you again. In passing years, confidence had become Aitana’s best friend. Consistent wins and titles built Aitana’s reign in the football world, which eventually extended to her personal life. Aitana felt untouchable. All her blood, sweat, and tears led her to this point, and she wasn’t gonna stop now. 

Aitana knew she’s one of the best players of the generation, playing for the best club in Spain, and if she was being a hundred percent honest, Europe. She’s aware of the impact she has endlessly made in the community each year. It wasn’t ego talking but a simple fact to be acknowledged. 

What Aitana didn’t realize is that her status and image could only get her so far. The world doesn’t excuse star athletes from it's desire to hurt. Before you, Aitana loved the world, and in return, they loved her. But, when she laid eyes on you, Aitana was instantly a goner. When your figure shrinked in size as you walked on, she slowly began to despise the very thing that loved her. 

You barged into her perfect world with your hot Brazilian accent and beautiful smile. Who wouldn’t fall for you? 

No one. A simple answer Aitana believed. 

She just wished that when she fell, you would have caught her. Instead, you let her fall continuously into the void that you created with your absence, and Aitana hated it. You demolished her world, a world centered around football only to be destroyed so easily by a charming smile. Dumbfounded, Aitana spent days putting her picture-perfect world back together brick by brick.

For once in her life, Aitana felt pathetic. A familiar yet unfamiliar emotion aching in her chest. 

In her youth, Aitana understood it. After each loss, she didn’t feel worthy, she didn’t feel like the great soccer player she strived to be. Aitana felt pathic, so yes the emotion was familiar to her. But, unfamiliar because Aitana didn’t lose a game that day, no, she just let go of the one person that sparked the wick in her soul. 

Aitana never felt a spark with someone before, the spark that many described as fireworks when they met the one. As sad as it is, Aitana never experienced fireworks. She summed it up to the fact that she was busy with football, too busy building her career to feel those sparks. 

Time went on, and so did Aitana’s hidden search for those fireworks. She eventually became immune to the romance surrounding her, couples left and right displaying their love that consisted of hand holding, hugs, and kisses…the list goes on. Maybe once or twice out of the year, Aitana wished to find someone to love, but no shooting stars were granted.

Year after year, Aitana slowly became content with her lack of romance…until that day on the beach. 

Aitana remembers that day so bitterly yet so fondly, the team had just finished up their time in the ocean. Favoring their time left with the sun before it completely set. She recalls being at peace. The breeze blew cool air against her warm skin, a still state Aitana hoped she had more often. And then you came along, fresh out the water, surfboard in arm. Effortlessly, you exposed Aitana to a new adrenaline. 

One she didn’t know existed and then when you waved at her, Aitana panicked. This, she liked a lot less, clueless to why she felt such a thing. Cool, calm and collected Aitana Bonmati panicking over a girl waving at her, how gay of her. She can still feel the internal embarrassment coursing through her body. 

When you spoke, Aitana believed she entered paradise. You possibly gave her the best chat she’s ever had. Your heavy Brazilian accent was music to her ears. Your rolled r’s nearly had Aitana on her knees. You knew how to keep a conversation going, the lightness and flow lifted weight off Aitana’s chest. The freedom to speak without care was new to her and she loved it. You were interested in what she had to say, focusing on her like she was the most important person in the world. 

The easy smile you had when she started to ramble and the twitch of your eyebrow when you found something amusing, if this is what people felt when they were in love, Aitana understood the addiction. You made her heart beat to cupid’s song, a rhythm that stuck to Aitana everytime she thought of you. 

And it was cute until she found sad songs to sync her heart to. Her attempts to hide her feelings sucked, the team immediately noticed her shift in behavior. Not only was she actively restored to brooding, small ques of isolation and a long heartbreak playlist were following factors. They’ve never seen Aitana so emotionally impacted by someone, the Great Aitana Bonmati wallows in misery over a girl, never thought they’ll see the day. 

“Her first lesbian heartbreak, the final step to her slut phase.”

Patri groaned, rubbing the back of her head where Frido slapped her. The team was on water break and instead of sitting with the others, Aitana sat at the edge, airpods blasting James Arthur.

Mapi sighed, yanking out her airpod, wrapping an arm around Aitana’s shoulder. “It’s okay, mi amiga. There are plenty of other women in the sea. We just need to get you in the right space to find them. How about we hit that nightclub by-” Cut off by a cleared throat, Mapi smiled innocently at Ingrid. The Norwegian removed her girlfriend from her dear friend, taking the prior spot for herself. 

“Don’t pay attention to her. You don’t need to move on so fast, just go at your own pace.” 

Mapi threw her arms out in offense, it wasn't just her who wanted Aitana to enter her lesbian spree. Cata, Patri, Pina, Misa, and even Jenni, who was all the way in Mexico, wanted to break Aitana out of her shell and right into someone’s sheets. 

It was a daring plan that they created, too much riding on it if it got leaked. The amount of trouble they’d get in for messing with precious Tana was undoubtedly scary. Nonetheless, they got to work. Patri and Cata signed her up for dating apps, swiping left and right to find girls who looked similar to you. 

Jenni was assigned to find potential matches in Mexico which wasn't exactly hard but Mapi kept rejecting them on Aitana’s behalf when they looked nowhere near you. Misa had a hometown friend that shared the same color hair and eyes as you but Aitana quickly shut it down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Each rejection and failure, they tried harder, determined to win their friend’s heart.

Aitana grew annoyed at their foolishness, Exhibit A.

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"I'm sure it will be. But, I want no part of it."

"Yes, you do. Trust me, right now you're experiencing your first girl heartbreak and its shitty. But, to get over someone is to get under someone. Now, what about her?”

Aitana glared at Mapi, eyes staring down at her friend, resisting the urge to push the phone that was shoved in her face. “I said no. So, get that phone out of my face before it ends across the field. Leave me alone before I tell Ingrid.” 

Mapi's jaw dropped, holding her phone tight to her chest. “That’s not fair!” She exclaimed, “We’re trying to help! Misa brought her friend to the city so you can meet her but you locked yourself at Keira’s which was really rude by the way! She was excited to meet you!” 

Aitana clenched her jaw, turning her back to Mapi to continue kicking penalties. Jana giggled, patting a pouting Mapi on the back. “She doesn't care for them because they're Spanish. She wants a little Brazilian instead.” Aitana's head snapped to Jana, the young girl cowdered behind Mapi at the fierce glare.

“Who told you that?”

Jana peeked out from Mapi’s shoulder, “Patri might've said something about an accent.” Patri said more than Jana claimed, she knew it, Mapi knew it, even Jana herself knew that Aitana wasn't buying her white lie. 

Mapi gasped, shaking Aitana in excitement. “You want a Brazilian?! Why didn't you say so, we can book a flight right now and grab the nearest one when we get off." Aitana stared at her friend eye-wide, Jana not too far off. Both looked at Mapi as if she lost her damn mind. 

“You want to kidnap someone?” Jana asked in disbelief, was it ever that serious? 

Mapi wagged her finger in the air, “No, I said grab. That’s different from kidnapping.” Jana shook her head, “I don’t think it is if they don’t go willingly.”

Mapi threw her arms to the side, almost smacking Aitana in the face. “Why wouldn't they come willingly? We show them Aitana and they’ll be dogs in heat wanting to meet her. I mean have you seen this face?” Mapi grabbed Aitana’s jaw in her hand, squishing the midfielder’s cheeks. “It’s so cute!” Mapi cooed, her baby voice in full effect. Aitana shoved the older girl away, sending a heavy glare for the mockery. 

“I’ll end you.” 

Aitana threatened, Mapi scoffed, not feeling the slightest worry. Aitana wasn’t a vengeful woman, she was calm and collected more than anything. 

“I’d like to see you try.” Mapi cockily said, calling Aitana’s bluff. Within a second, Aitana stocked up on Mapi, yanking the phone out of her hand before launching it across the field. “You bitch!” Mapi yelled, running after her precious phone, praying that it wasn’t broken. 

Aitana turned her back to Mapi’s slouching figure, pointing a finger at Jana. “You keep messing with me, you’re next.” Jana nodded rapidly, eyes snapping to Mapi as she cried dramatically over her phone. Aitana walked off leaving her two friends to deal with the mess they made. 

“And I’m telling Ingrid!”

“We’re not flying all the way to Brazil just for you to set me up with a random stranger.” Patri just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. The more the others knew, the more they pressed. Aitana didn’t want that, it was frustrating enough to deal with her own emotions but to have more people hound you for it was just as infuriating.

She didn't want anyone that wasn’t you, she didn’t care for the girls in Spain and she definitely didn’t care for some random girls in Brazil. She just wanted you and that’s all she’ll ever want. 

Aitana didn’t expect anyone to understand. Heck she didn’t understand it herself. The very first person she fell for, someone she couldn’t have known for no more than an hour, pained her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Her mind imagined scenarios of what could have been if you lived in Spain, if she found loopholes to see the relationship working out. It drained Aitana mentally, all these what ifs. And to show up at work or hang out to be constantly tested fueled her anger. 

She felt like a laughing stock. For the team to know that someone tugged her heart strings was humiliating, double the amount due to the evident impact it had on her. Every woman introduced to her by the helping hand of Mapi, Patri, whoever was a few, pushes away from tipping the iceberg. 

To the rest of the team, they knew very well that Aitana was bound to snap. She’s been teased relentlessly for weeks, they wouldn’t be surprised if Aitana became a loose cannon by the end of the month. 

Aitana sat in her cubby, undressing herself from all the sweat that lingered on her clothes. Patri hopped over, nudging Aitana who ignored her. Patri smiled nonetheless, leaning closer to her, whispering, “I heard what you did with Mapi’s phone. Did she tell you about the match you made on-” Aitana threw her boots into her cubby, whipping around to come face to face with Patri. 

The talking instantly ceased in the locker room, the sound of boots banging against metal gained rapid attention. The smile on Patri’s lips slowly faded away, the tension in Aitana’s face vanished any playfulness in her bones. “If you heard about that then you should’ve heard what I told her. Leave me alone, quit bringing up random girls for me to date. I don’t want them and I don't want you or anyone else meddling with my life!” 

Seeing that Aitana was blowing up, Mapi came over to try to do some damage control. “Hey, we’re just trying to help you get over that girl. You were so upset about her leaving we just wanted to help.” Despite the softness and genuine intention, that didn’t do anything to rid the annoyance and anger building up.

“Well don't! How many times did I ask you to stop?! And you didn’t?! You keep making fun of me! I’m sick of it!” 

Alexia quickly interfered, placing a hand on Aitana beating chest giving the younger girl a soft look. “Why don’t you head home and get some rest. I’ll handle this.” She assured, Aitana snatched her bag off the floor and stomped out the room, giving up the fight before it became physical. The doors slammed loudly against the wall with the force Aitana used. 

Alexia spun on her heels, hands on her lips as she glared at Mapi. “This needs to stop. It’s gone on for way too long. I mean it, Patri delete that app off your phone. I know you still have it. Mapi quit trying to set her up with people she doesn’t want to meet. And anyone else involved quit the shit before you’re running laps before practice for the entire season.” 

Alexia made it a mission to make eye contact with the four who were involved, the other two she couldn’t reach due to one being in Madrid and the other in Mexico but she’ll be sure to check them when nationals come. “Apologize to her. Buy her flowers, clean her apartment, I don’t care just make it up to her, Jonatan has a potential player visiting and we need to make a good impression as a team. Understand?” 

Various answers were said, all pleasing to Alexia to what she wanted to hear. “Good. Patri, Pina, and Mapi starting tomorrow you’ll be running laps until you apologize. And Cata, you’ll be in goal for Aitana’s balls tomorrow, better hope she’s cooled off by then.” The four protested but Alexia didn’t bother to stay to hear it. 

Keira winced at the slammed door, the blonde went by to pick up Aitana for their usual carpool and by the looks of it, yesterday’s mood still lingered. Aitana refused to visit their usual cafe after Pina exposed Aitana’s loneliness to one of the barista’s hoping to score Aitana an unwanted date. She even refused to listen to their morning playlist which always gets them in a peaceful mindset for the day. 

The ride was awkwardly silent, Keira respected Aitana’s need for silence but it killed her the entire time. As soon as the car stopped, Aitana wasted no time rushing out the car, Keira quickly caught up expecting Aitana to be more dragged with her movements to hold off seeing the team.

“Going a bit too fast for me, Tana. Mind slowing down a bit.” The blonde chucked but Aitana made no indication that she was listening, noticing Aitana lost in her thoughts Keira stood in front of her primarily stopping Aitana in her tracks. 

“Still bugged out from yesterday? Don’t worry, Alexia had a talk with the team after you left. They’re very sorry about their actions.” 

Aitana blinked, “Let’s just get to training.” She left it at that, leaving Keira behind. As much Aitana wanted to act like nothing had happened in the past weeks, the brewing irritation and embarrassment had risen to a boiling point that wasn’t going to cool soon. So unfortunately for the girls, they were going to be on the receiving end of Aitana’s fury for the next following days. 

Aitana pushed the doors open to the locker room, high energy today as loud chatter came from the walls. Time stopped for Aitana, her eyes caught onto the person standing in the middle of the room as if it's the norm. Talking to her teammates with a huge smile. How were you here? Why were you here? Millions of questions ran through Aitana's mind and none could she work out an answer to. 

Aitana didn’t realize that you began making way towards her, even as her eyes followed you as you navigated through the room like you've been here before. You stood right in front of her, except there was no sun blinding her, all she had was the ceiling light, a very dim light.

You had a stupid smile on your face, happiness filled your heart to its content. You counted down the remaining days to return to Barca, to see Aitana after your first encounter it made all the move to Spain more exciting. 

“Hi, Aitana.” 

Words breathless, your heart pumping to cupid’s song made it hard to catch your breath. A beat skipped and so did Aitana, well, more like bolted out the door leaving you standing stupidly in the middle of the room.

[khaire-traveler]

Random Greek Deity Facts

- Artemis has been associated with horses in the past.

- Ares has associations with owls.

- There are ancient gravestones with reliefs on them that historians still cannot tell if the art is of Dionysus or Jesus.

- It is common for historians to struggle identifying if a statue is of Artemis or Apollo because they often look so much alike.

- Hephaestus is a god of fire.

- Maia, the Mother of Hermes, was thought to assist in raising both Dionysus and Hephaestus.

- Hypnos is said to live in a massive cave, sleeping with thousands of his sons.

- Rather than blood, Greek gods are said to have something called Ichor running through their veins; no one is quite sure what "Ichor" actually is.

- Both Apollo and Artemis are deities of light; it is not just Apollo. Along with this, it is believed Leto may also be a goddess of light.

- It is commonly believed that the hyacinth flower is not actually the flower Hyacinthus was infamously transformed into; most sources seem to agree that it was likely either an iris or a larkspur.

- At one point in the Dionysiaca, Dionysus wages a war against India. The goddess Rhea is said to have gathered troops for him, and Zeus was said to have been the one to task Dionysus with going to war in order to allow him to join the gods on Mount Olympus.

- Demeter's chariot is pulled by two giant winged serpents; she has literal dragons pulling her around, and no one is talking about it.

- The Python was a child of Gaia, and before Apollo took up the Oracle in Delphi, there was actually an Oracle with Gaia in that location.

- The twins Castor and Pollux, who made up the Gemini constellation, were commonly worshipped throughout ancient Greece under the title of the "Dioscuri" or "Dioskouroi".

- Also regarding the Dioskouroi, the name "Castor" ("Kastor") may translate to "Beaver".

- The famous epithet "Paean" of Apollo was also listed on an ancient Mycenaean tablet that listed the names of separate deities. It is, therefore, possible that Paean was once a separate god who later became associated/merged with both Apollo and his son Ascelpius.

- Besides being an epithet, a Paean was also a type of devotional chant/song that was sung in honor of Apollo. Some ancient sources claim that the event of singing a Paean could actually be quite loud, involving clouds of stomping/banging and movement.

- The masculine version of Hekate's name, "Hekatos", was an epithet for the god Apollo; both names can be translated to "worker from afar".

- The first record of the more "traditional" view of a werewolf comes from the Greek myth about King Lycaon, when Zeus transformed into a wolf for ten years as punishment for tricking the gods into consuming human flesh (yes, you read that right).

- In the myths, Zeus and Hermes have a lovely Father-Son bonding trip of destroying an entire village (except for one home) for not showing either of the disguised gods hospitality as poor travellers.

- Both Apollo and Zeus were seen as gods who purified "blood-guilt" - a condition which was caused by the killing of another person and required immense purification.

- Cerberus is described as a fully sentient being who can communicate as other immensely powerful children of Gaia could, meaning he is akin to the gods in terms of intelligence rather than being like an overgrown dog.

- Hermes is said to be the inventor of offerings, specifically animal sacrifices.

- One origin of the Pegasus was Poseidon and Medusa doing the devil's tango.

- There is a tale that claims Hermes to be the one who granted Aesop his knowledge of fables.

- According to some ancient sources, Cerberus has as many as fifty heads, a mane of snakes, the claws of a lion, and a snake tail.

- Iris was not only the goddess of rainbows but was also the personal messenger of Hera and was prominently featured in The Iliad delivering many messages on behalf of the Olympian gods.

- Eros has been depicted as the child of Aphrodite and Ares, the child of Ouranos and Aphrodite, the child of solely Aphrodite, the child of Poros and Penia, the child of Ouranos and Gaia, the child of Zephyrus and Iris, and a primordial being who simply came into being. So, where did Eros actually come from? Your guess is as good as any.

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That's all for now! Let me know if y'all enjoyed these and would like more. 🧡

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|| Sources ||

- Theoi.com (of course)

- The Iliad by Homer

- Theogony by Hesiod

- The Dionysiaca by Nonnus

- Information from various museum trips in Athens and Delphi, Greece (sorry, I don't remember the exact sources 💀)

[randxmthxughts]

Captain Save a Hoe - Tsu'tey x Avatar!Reader

i know, i know, the title...

summary: grumpy tsu’tey having to take care of a clumsy avatar!reader, and eventually warming up to her // tsu'tey being a captain-save-a-hoe for 1.7k words straight

wc: 1.7k

a/n: basically, i didn't know where to go with this, so i'm posting it like a blurb bc you guys told me to. there won't be a continuation to this, i just love grumpy tsu'tey, he's so hot

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Watch your feet,” Tsu’tey throws an angry glance at you, as you stumble through the thick bushes, trying to catch up to him.

Tsu’tey didn’t like dreamwalkers, hell, he almost killed one a few years back, if he hadn’t been stopped. But Tsu’tey especially didn’t like the ones that were awkward and weak in their disguised bodies, asking stupid questions, and constantly getting themselves into trouble. So of course, he was angry when Jake ordered him to keep an eye on you.

“Tsu’tey,” you breathe out, “Please wait for me.”

Despite the strength that your new body possesses, you struggle to keep up with Tsu’tey, feeling like a helpless child in comparison. He walks fast, treating this like another mission that he desperately wants to get over with. Tsu’tey doesn’t really care that Jake welcomed you into the clan for the help you offered. Or that the maps you've made could save the Omaticaya from future attacks by the sky people. What are a few more attacks on him? Tsu’tey relished in destroying the massive flying ships, he could go against them without your help any day. 

From the moment you embarked on your journey to the science facility to retrieve some of your equipment, it seemed like Tsu’tey’s luck had run out. As if for some reason Eywa had cursed him, making his journey with you longer and tiresome.

At first, he resented the idea of sharing his direhorse with you, since you hadn’t learned how to ride one yet. He also hated how you would cling to his middle, whenever he sped up, and restricted his movements. If only you had kept quiet, he could have tolerated you more, but instead, you occasionally tried to pry into his past.

“So, why don’t you have a mate?”

“She was killed by one of your demons.”

“Oh.”

Two hours in, Tsu’tey decided to stop by the river to give his horse a short break. As you crouched down by the water, examining the way it bubbled, Tsu’tey observed you in silence. He thought you were strange-looking, but not like Jake. To him, Jake was ugly. You had something intriguing about your appearance. Pretty, although Tsu’tey had a hard time getting used to it. But the compliment he wanted to grant you was immediately pushed to the back of his mind when he heard your frightened scream. You noticed an arachnoid crawling up your thigh and shrieked out of fear, violently shaking your leg to get it off. Spooked by your sudden outburst, the horse loudly neighed and fled through the air. Tsu’tey quickly jumped to his feet, but when he saw the reason for your shrieks, he felt his blood boil. In your defense, you had heard stories of poisonous arachnids of Pandora and you weren’t taking any chances.

So here you are, trudging along behind, with ears pressed flat against your skull. Tsu’tey had scolded you, blaming your weak spirit for the consequences. Since you were too far from the Hometree, and the horse was long gone, you had to continue the rest of the journey on foot. Which meant more hours spent with you. 

The silence that follows is almost unbearable, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves. What Tsu’tey did not expect was for you to be so slow. He almost gave up on the plan, contemplating going back to the village and fetching another horse. He even entertained the thought of taming a palulukan in case of an attack. In the worst case, he'd end up dead and wouldn’t be forced to care for you for another minute.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the day wears on, and the sun starts to set, casting a warm orange glow on the surroundings, you decide to voice your concern.

“Do you think we’ll make it to the facility by night?”

Tsu’tey throws a glance at you over his shoulder, letting out a bitter chuckle. You grimace at his reaction. 

“Got it,” you bite your lip.

He comes to a stop, and begins scanning the area around him. You wait for further clarification but he ignores you completely, then starts gathering twigs into a small cone.

“We will camp for the night,” he finally says, gesturing at you, “Gather some more, and stay here. I will be back soon.”

You discover that ‘soon’ meant different things to you and Tsu’tey. While you assumed he would be out hunting, the chilly air made you decide to start the fire and keep an eye on it, so it doesn’t die out. You hadn’t realized how tired you were, the warmth radiating from the small fire was making your eyelids droopy. You tried to resist sleep to prove to Tsu’tey that you were capable, but you couldn't hold out much longer, nestling on the ground.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey nudges you awake with a gentle touch, and you catch a whiff of a delicious aroma. As you open your eyes, you see him crouching in front of you, holding a piece of meat wrapped in leaves. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you eagerly take it from his hands and devour it. Tsu’tey can't help but chuckle, as he watches the satisfied grin spread across your face.

“Slow down,” he says softly, motioning for you to take a seat next to him, closer to the fire.

You watch him roast a smaller piece of meat and put it in his mouth. Instead of savoring the taste, Tsu’tey chews on it while continuing cutting up more pieces. You feel a little guilty that he prepares food for the both of you but doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it.

“Can I help?” you ask, moving closer to him.

He doesn’t answer, instead pointing to the knife on your belt. When you take it out, Tsu’tey pierces a piece of meat on the sharp tip, and motions for you to hold it over the fire. You follow his orders, watching the meat slowly cook as the aroma hits your nostrils and your stomach grumbles. 

This must be the first time he sees you do something right. Tsu’tey nods approvingly as he watches you carefully turn the meat over the fire, your knife skillful in your hands. A comfortable silence hangs over you, as you both start eating.

“We will continue our journey early in the morning,” he breaks the silence, “We must move quickly and return back as fast as we can. ‘Don’t want to camp out in the forest for another night, it can be dangerous.”

You only nod, agreeing with his plan. It was rare for him to keep you informed anyway, so you weren’t going to doubt Tsu’tey.

“You don’t trust that I can help, do you?”

“I am not sure,” he admits, “But if Toruk Makto trusts you, I can give you a chance to prove yourself.”

“Your prejudice against me is ironic,” you scoff, “Jake was just like me once, before becoming Toruk Makto.”

“Not just like you,” Tsu’tey chuckles, shaking his head, “You are too weak.”

“I am smart,” you argue. 

Tsu’tey hums in agreement. There is some truth to his words, you have shown weakness. Adapting to a completely new environment, getting used to another culture, suddenly being forced into hours of physical activity that you weren’t committed to. At times, it would get too much but the support of the clan was all the validation you needed to stay.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll do anything to help your people,” you face him with new confidence, he hasn’t seen in you yet.

“You betray your own?” Tsu’tey frowns.

“I have no other choice. They are destroying everything because of greed,” you shake your head in disappointment. He nods.

“And your family? You left them too?”

“I don’t have one,” a bitter chuckle escapes from your lips, “They don’t claim me anymore. And I don’t claim them.”

“So they disowned you?”

“Pretty much,” you shrug, “They think that I am betraying them because I want to protect the life on Pandora.”

“It must take great strength to go against your family,” Tsu’tey compliments you.

You shy away from his softened gaze, warm feeling spreading in your chest from the kind words. It was tough to be one of the engineers who worked for RDA and had to betray them. But you couldn’t stand the idea of contributing to the destruction they were causing. It was why you first found Jake and warned him about the impending danger. And it was then when you first felt welcomed by the clan, cared for.

Now, you needed to sneak back into the facility and retrieve the equipment you left to track the future attacks. Tsu’tey was assigned to accompany you since it was dangerous to go alone. Even though most of the team at the facility shared similar opinions and wouldn't stop you, there was still a risk of encountering RDA guards. Getting caught would mean you could never return.

As the night wears on and the fire grows smaller and smaller, you and Tsu’tey continue to talk. You’re surprised by how he opens up to you, and how he doesn’t protest when you tell him about your past. Eventually, you feel your eyes growing heavy and your head nodding off to the side. Tsu’tey notices and stays up to keep an eye on you, making sure you’re safe while you sleep.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you wake up in the morning, you feel slightly restricted around your middle. You huff slightly, trying to move, as you realize that Tsu’tey is sleeping beside you, with his leg thrown over yours, and his arms wrapped around you. The closeness of his body sends a flush of heat to your cheeks, and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Tsu’tey,” you nudge him, “Wake up.”

It doesn’t take much to rouse him. You guess that, as a warrior, he was trained to be sensitive to sounds around him. Tsu’tey grunts heavily before blinking a few times, adjusting his eyes to the light. When he realizes how close your face is to his, he almost recoils.

"For someone who seems to hate me, you're very protective," you tease him, patting his arms playfully.

“Mhm, couldn’t risk you rolling into the fire in your sleep,” he grumbles, freeing you from his grasp.

[death---dealer]

In A Hurry. ( Noa x Reader Oneshot. )

Fuck I love angst don't even TOUCH ME with your eyes I'm in my feels.

Title: In a Hurry. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x (Human) Reader. Rating: T ( Mentions of blood, injury and potential death, tiny bit of language. ) Words: ( I have no idea how i swear this was supposed to be like 2K words AHHH ) Summary: Noa bargained. Maybe you were gone by choice but the idea lingered - Had you been injured?

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He knew the moment his green eyes looked at the sky, noticing the dip of the sun as it skirted its way along the horizon, that he had made a mistake. You were supposed to be back. He thought to himself, resting a spear head on the ground in front of him. He had been messing with it, scraping a piece of wood into a sharp point to dig into a hole that he suspected might be infested with bugs of the pesky nature after someone in passing had brought it up. He had been so oblivious to the passage of time, a foolish choice to make when you had left a few hours to go forge for some berries. It was hard to keep track of time though, especially when Noa had a front row seat to watch Soona and Anaya bicker. Today’s special was about Anaya- as it most usually was. Noa smiled at the familiarity before it quickly faded into oblivion at the existential thought. You were supposed to be back. 

You never went too far; never too far into the woods, knowing of the possibility of danger especially as an Echo, never ventured away from the Clan, from your home, your nest, your things… From… from Noa. He felt something surge inside of his chest that yelled at him to move his body. You were supposed to be back. Noa often went with you along with Soona and Anaya - An unbreakable bond began forming around the four of you. But, in those instances when Noa was unable to go, he would urge Soona, Anaya or even his Mother on occasion to go. At this point, his body was in movement, spine aching ever so slightly at the straight posture he was using to prepare his horse who greeted him with a joyous neigh., Noa wasn’t even sure how you convinced him to let you go alone, letting his mind drift to the conversation only three or so hours ago, when the sun was beginning a rather leisurely and slow decent as the afternoon had passed. It was definitely alluring what you asked of him, which was why he granted you to go alone, without accompaniment. You told him it was only for a short amount of time, letting your hand lightly grasp at his bicep in some Echo communication that physical touch would get your way. It often worked but Noa held on until you explained you wanted to get some berries for dinner, that you promised not to go too far, and that you would bring your spear with you to fend off any potential attacks. They seldom happened so close to the village, but they were not unheard of by any means. You wanted to go to get some space to yourself, you told him, Noa having to remind himself that it was indeed a regular Echo thing. To enjoy their own personal space. He never understood it, always having Anaya or Soona with him when you weren’t with him in most cases, and when he wasn’t with them, he was deep in thought, obsessing at his own ideas, his own improvements. At those moments, his thoughts became his friends and he was never really lonely.

Noa contemplated it, but essentially let you go to the mild fury of both his friends, like he wasn’t already uncomfortable enough letting you go without any of them.... Anaya, worried just as much that something could happen to you, even going as far as to tell Noa to just follow you at a distance; Noa had to shove aside the fact that he had the same train of thought earlier but following you could result in less trust in the relationship, Anaya was slightly receptive to that but stood his ground in telling Noa he should just follow. Soona, who obviously thought the same thing, but in her everlasting rationale to keep Noa somewhat grounded, nodded in understanding when Noa told her the reason you wanted to go alone. It wasn’t a slight at them, just one of those pesky Echo things. Personal space, they repeated to themselves over and over. 

His forehead pressed against your own as a departure, your hands full. One with a weaved basket, albeit a little janky as you had made it yourself and had yet to master the art, and one with your spear. He felt a sense of calm at that. You were not far; if you screamed, he most likely would be able to hear it and you had a weapon. You were not going far, he told himself over and over again and trailed around the village in search of something to bide his time until you returned.

In the distance it took him to travel from his spot to the horse paddock, both Anaya and Soona had joined. Noa left so abruptly, saying nothing to them and the haste of his movements spurred his friends to follow. He knew they were talking to each other, the flurry of signing and the some words hit Noa as Anaya had finally asked, “Where?” “Echo is… not back?” Soona asked.

It appeared the consensus was that you had returned and no one noticed. Noa would. Noa would always notice. Growling under his breath, he turned to both of them and said, “Stay here in case… She comes back,” He glanced over his shoulder, “Noa… will go. Look in the woods. Can’t be far.” He was just saying that to keep them calm. “Stay,” He told them again, “Could come back while away.”

Stupid Noa, the Ape scorned himself as his long arms grasped at the saddle of his horse and within seconds, in a graceful sweep, he was perched on top, Eagle Sun coming to affectionately rest on his shoulder. When Noa mounted his horse there was more than enough incentive for Eagle Sun to join along. He’d ride for a few moments before opting to fly. The bird chirped, twisting their tiny head to the side a few times. Noa raised his hand at that, pressing a finger to their beak. Eagle Sun then took off with purpose. Find you, and if he found you first, show Noa the way. You were not back. You were supposed to be back. Before dusk, before dinner. 

Maybe you got lost, Noa thought as he tightened his grip on the reins, kicking at the side of his steed and urging them to go. Faster than he had been for a while, thighs tightening their grip on the sides as he blasted away from the village in the general direction he had bid you goodbye to early in the day. He was snapping inside of his head; unkind notions at how stupid he was to let you go alone, he should have known better, should have never… Never let you convince him. But, what was he supposed to do? Another part of him shouted. Keep you there? Never let you out of his sight?! From experience, Noa knew that to be a bad thing. The tighter you hold onto things, sometimes the faster they slip away. He was so fearful of you thinking, assuming that he was smothering you by not giving you personal Echo space that he now drove himself to the brink of insanity for letting you do something alone. The dissolution he had in himself; the tugging of his emotions as his gaze flickered around the racing landscape on the back of his stallion. He felt like he was going to be physically sick at the notion that you were… Gone. But if anything, he hoped it was by choice. He could at least begin to cope with the idea that you chose to leave, maybe figuring out that your future with him, with the Eagle Clan was going to go nowhere. Noa could learn, albeit out of bitterness, how to live with that. On the other hand lingered the absolutely disgusting notion that you were gone because you were spotted, chased and hunted down by another Clan. That they had the audacity to make their way onto Eagle Clan land and rip you from him.

 His teeth fell together in his mouth, the primal impact sending a clattering noise through Noa’s ears. He knew how the others were, what they did to Echo’s. Chased them to the brink of exhaustion, tied them to the back of their horses and dragged them through the terrain until they were dead. He, Soona and Anaya had come upon remains, skeletons of the Echo’s that had that misfortune. Noa squeezed his eyes shut at that visual now running circles in his mind and tried to quiet down the battling nature of his turmoil. Instinctually, he pulled the reins of his horse back to slow down, now urging them to be quiet with a hand placed on their neck. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving with ripe anguish and he swore his lungs were filled with nothing but water because it felt like he was drowning, swimming through the air. He was frantic to jump from the horse, feet hitting the ground hard enough to send a vibration through his entire body, followed by his hands. He moved faster on all fours, if he heard you, if he just knew where you were he could run. Noa began scanning the area. Between trees, around foliage, behind tree trunks, around the usual areas Noa had been with you. He recognized the area all too well, a surge of saddened negligence hitting him like a wave of the ocean.

This was where you and he first really talked, taking in the Summer weather spewing through the trees above asn Anaya and Soona began a conversation about which berries to pick. Anaya wanted the red ones off to the right to which Soona promptly turned him down. They were poisonous. Where the two of you went to seek solace from the prying eyes of the Clan, always curious what Noa’s decision was going to be regarding you being there. This was where you first held each other, a tight embrace… Hug, he recalled the word fondly falling from your lips… The way your body pressed against his, the way he was so unsure of it before giving in, long arms wrapping around you in a similar fashion and pulling you in close, close… The laugh you gave him when he squeezed too tightly, not aware of his strength being incomprehensible to you. What if… Those things…were all the last time? He was always fast to crumble, fast to fall down and this was no exception as his emotions began to collapse just like the Echo ruins that surrounded the Eagle Clan. The last time Noa saw you, smiling graciously at him as you trail to the woods, the sum beaming down on you and drenching you in that quintessential summer time shine. The last time Noa touched you, his hand cupping the side of your face, foreheads grasping at each other out of clear desperation to be near. The last time he heard your voice, so delicate in nature as you assured him that nothing was going to happen to you, that you were going to be okay… You were not a liar, Noa knew this, but the bile rose in his throat at your words. So tender, so reassuring to him in the moment that they felt so out of place now. You were not back, you were gone. They were all gone. And you had promised him otherwise. It was obvious from scent alone that you had been in the area, Noa took gross solace in that as it hit his nose. He figured this was where you would come, being most familiar with the area, with previous knowledge of blackberry and blueberry bushes around. Slated green and gold eyes caught something on a few leaves to his right, his glancing almost too quick to pick it up on the first sweep. He had mistaken it for a berry at first, but that was very much not the case. It was red, for sure, but not the kind he wanted it to be. He watched it drop from one leaf, onto another before taking refuge in the puddle of vibrancy against the brown of the Earth. 

Blood. It was blood, and Noa scooted towards it, gravity taking hold on his actions rather than the usual conscious thought. He almost fell over, tangling his hands and feet in the dirt as he stopped dead in his tracks. It was more blood than he cared to admit and it smelled… Smelled like you, fragrant as usual, and all too familiar to Noa. it lingered uncomfortably though and it began to smell of iron. Fresh. It had to be, there was no way it would hold onto that without being spilled recently; at least in the last thirty or so minutes. The fur on his neck and shoulders were prickled, Noa found himself on the defense thinking about what your movements had to have been. What had to have happened. Were you found? Bludgeoned and then taken away? Did you fall and hurt yourself? You were prone to that Noa thought with a bitter laugh at how clumsy you were at times. Were you still in the area--- 

Your basket! He raced a few feet to the left, grasping it in his hands. There were contents inside, not many, but enough to put Noa in a whirl of relief for a second or two. You were here recently, he reminded himself again, setting the basket down on the ground after its brisk analysis. His mouth slacked open animalistically, eyes narrow with the metaphorical hunt. His hands and feet dug into the ground. He was focused, primed and ready. What was that? Noa’s head whipped to the left again. A sound. Not an animal he knew; not even that of Eagle Sun who must have been still searching for you; a true testament to how quickly Noa was to get to the area. He managed to beat his bird. There it was again! That sound caused him to raise his body and shuffle towards it. It was hard to deduce, but it was enough to give Noa a sense of what direction to take. Slightly to the east, right passed the blueberry bush that you had dubbed your favorite months ago due to the pure amount of berries you got in one picking. Noa looked at it almost tenderly, thinking about that as the leaves brushed against the side of his body as he clutched passed it. His eyes hardened, his mouth opened in defense, baring his canines to whatever was making the reverb that Noa was picking up on. It was either dangerous or not given the blood spotted. Given the basket that was abandoned. It could be another Ape, aggressive. The thought alone caused the fur all along Noa’s spine to spring to attention.  It was getting louder, more guttural that sound… Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

The first thing Noa went for was your face. His hands were large, grasping at your head on each side, pulling it up from the rather awkward position it was hanging in as you had only managed to get yourself slightly propped up against a tree, at least that’s what Noa was able to put together. His first initial thought was that you were dead. You had to be, you couldn’t be, he was shouting at himself to pull it together but he couldn’t. The feeling of tears hit the back of his eyes at the very state you were in. 

There was blood on your face, he had smeared it artistically on his own hands before drawing his grasp downwards onto your chest. He left a barren red hand print there, accessing the skin of your sternum, hard with bone under his touch. Breathing, good, he took quick note of that, feeling the slower than usual pace of your heartbeat against the tips of his fingers. He tried to ignore the arrow that was jutting from your right shoulder with his movements, but it was brought to his attention when he minorly grazed it with his forearm after a feeble attempt to get you to sit up, sit closer to him. He wanted you near him, he needed you near him. As close as he could get so he could leverage himself up with you in his arms and get you back to his horse, back to the Clan… Arm under your knees, arm around the upper part of your body, careful around the arrow he had noticed, but enough for the Ape to help. He could pick you up with ease but stopped once he shifted to do just that. You groaned, eyes squeezing, instinctually, your hand raised and grasped at his forearm that was encased around your upper half.  Spurred by the hot sensation of pain rocketing through your entire being from just one simple move, Noa’s heart surged at the pure agony that came out of you. Okay, so… He couldn’t get you up. He couldn’t move you without causing more pain. “(Name)?” It felt strange to say still. Your name. It became such second nature in his mind but to say it…

Perpetual fear hit Noa but he tried his hardest to stay grounded, to put the pieces together. So. You were breathing, that was a plus. There was an arrow in your shoulder, not a plus. He was afraid to move you, another negative.  Not conscious to ask you any questions, your eyes were rolled back, only slightly open, another negative.. He figured you had no idea what was going on based on his call of your name and the lack of response, his eyes dropped down your body again, now laying in his arms lifeless, unwilling to give him a smile that he so needed now. Unable to say something sarcastic in that tone he loved to hear, unable to hold him in response…. Injury, he yelled inside of his head. Bad injury, he lingered, piercing his gaze into the arrow that had made its very home in your right shoulder. 

He gasped quietly at that, unfurling his hands against you before he dug his fingers right into you, protective in their stance. Noa finally noted the severity, no time to beat himself up over the immature idea to let you go alone for berries. He needed to do something about it. It was not a clean wound. The arrow went through, the arrow did not come out the other side of your shoulder, at least from what he could tell. He panicked, no idea what to do. Injuries were not his forte. They never were. He left them to the Village Elders who knew more about this, he left it to his Mother who soothed all his injuries growing up, even to this day he would occasionally ask for her assistance. “(Name.)” Noa’s voice was sharp, waving right around the edges in faltering resolve. He just needed you awake. Needed you to say something to him. Acknowledge him in any way or he felt he was going to lose it--- Lose you. “(Name).” Within a blink, Eagle Sun came to rest on Noa’s left shoulder. The bird was curious by nature, looking down at your body with beady eyes. Noa did the only thing he could process in that moment and that was to sign his bird to go get Anaya, Soona and his mother. He--- He couldn’t do this, couldn’t fathom being the one there to pull the arrow out of your shoulder. He’d make it worse, he’d hurt you, he’d make you hate him, he’d… He’d kill you… Noa didn't know what he would do then. He’d fall into ruin, destitute, unable to cope, unable to breathe with you… Without his mate, without his life and love and joy. 

He was--- God, he was weak. Never a leader like his Father, never a caring Ape like his Mother. He was… Weak… Green eyes bore a hole all along your expression, hopeful that maybe you were able to give him something in your teetering balance of unconsciousness as he moved the hand from under your knees out and upwards to cup the side of your face tenderly. He ignored the blood that he was putting against your skin and focused.  He needed to know what happened--- Needed to know who did this to you so he could tear their face from their body. Noa was beyond scared, now sensing the feeling of your blood against the fur of his upper body and his thigh where he was keeping you pressed against him. He was so scared, taking a few moments to tilt his head back in a bargain. He’d do anything you asked of him, anything at all, if you pulled a rabbit out of the hat. If your injury was not as severe as it appeared to be. Noa had a hard time really telling - Maybe it wasn’t as bad, maybe it was worse. He had no visible way to tell anymore. Eagle Sun’s squawk came to hit him, finally for once, Noa found it to be a good sound, often finding it rather annoying when the bird would bother him when he was deep in his own introspective. Good, good…. Anaya, Soona, Dar… They could help him. He needed them to help him. You’re so weak, Noa. He knew that. He knew that so well and watched helplessly as Soona and Dar took you away from him, resting you flat on your back and examining. They made a choice in silence. The arrow had to come out. It took Anaya to push him back as it happened, to keep Noa from absolutely crashing into his mother and Soona, to beg them to stop and that you were in more pain than he could bear. The screams that emitted from you were enough to give Noa nightmares for the rest of his life. 

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Minutes… Turned into hours… Which in turn gave Noa a full day of complete and utter shattered silence as he watched over you, your soft breathing that would rise and fall consistently, your twitching and muttering in what he hoped were good dreams. Or maybe, you weren’t dreaming at all and it was just a void… Noa tried to not focus on that, focus on how lonely and desolate it sounded. Dar, his Mother, had told him you’d survive. It was good when Noa found you, you had lost a lot of blood at that point, but good none-the-less. While her words were always reassuring to Noa, he took no solace in them this time around.

He couldn’t- not when the reasoning behind you laying so gently in the nest you shared with Noa was due to his absolute absurdity and poor judgment. You moaned in reaction to his fingers as they lightly placed themselves on the side of your face- Only fleetingly, Noa had to talk himself down from it. You were able to sense him, but you had yet to stir awake for him. That, he suspected, was due to a bump on the head, mentioned to him by his Mother. How… how small and fragile Echo’s bodies were… How even the smallest of injuries, a bump to the head, could cause unfiltered waves of unconsciousness. Noa felt sick again suddenly, replaying what must have happened to you in the woods. The sensation of isolation smothering all of his senses. Had you sustained a mild head injury from a fall? Were you struck by some outside force? He had no idea of knowing, but the obvious scramble was evident at the scene. You straggled, you crawled your way to the tree trunk after the arrow struck you, seeping your blood all along the floor of the woods and propped yourself up as best you could before the cold wash of oblivion must have taken you downwards. He could almost vividly see your hand marks on the tree trunk. You must have attempted to stagger to your feet but couldn’t--- Noa swallowed hard at that. You were just trying to survive, trying to get home. He’d find himself brushing his fingers along your body, anywhere he could, every few minutes just so you were aware that he was there. Much like before, his hand reached out and instead of your face, he lightly rested it against your uninjured shoulder, bare to his eyes as you had been stripped of your upper body clothing, well… More or less, your sweater and under-shirt were ripped off by Soona to get a better view at what had happened to you when Eagle Sun brought them to the event. 

Noa’s eyes couldn’t bring themselves to even look at your injury, rooted paste placed on top, along with a thin cloth to keep it unexposed to the air. Based on his internal clock, Soona would be there in an hour or so to replace the cloth with another... He was there the entire time, not having any time set aside to eat, to be with Soona and Anaya who he knew were waiting outside, unwavering in their friendship to him, unsettled in Noa’s choice of mate. To them, you were one of the Eagle Clan, and for Noa, they accepted you with open arms. Your blood still clung to the very tips of his fur. He hadn’t taken any time to even groom, how could he? How could he leave you? His mate. 

That loving notion that always wrapped Noa in warmth didn't stop the young Chimp from flying off the rails at himself. The stupid, so vastly immature mistake at letting you go alone. Had he been with you, this entire situation could have been avoided. You’d be awake right now, looking at Noa with those eyes--- Those eyes that he loved, that he found himself getting lost in from time to time, even in his own mind did he get lost. You’d be conscious, maybe even with your hand in his fur, the way he liked, the way that got him to pause and to come down from even the highest of highs. His hand had trailed from the rest on your shoulder upwards to your hair where he gave it a tender stroke. There was dried blood between the strands, he noticed and could hear your voice in his head. 

I must look like shit.  When can I go to the creek to wash myself? He smiled at the imitation he had of you in his imagination, it being rather remarkable. He’d spent so much time observing you that your tendencies, Echo or not, were well ingrained into his memory. How you would react to things, how he knew in this moment you’d be concerned about looking bad in front of him; a concept that Noa didn't care much about. To him, in any circumstance, you were beautiful. Even now… He thought quietly to himself and brought his hand back upwards to your hairline before brushing very gently backwards. In wishful passing, with each stroke of your hair Noa just hoped and hoped it would be the one that would spur you to wake. He hoped.

[ceesimz]

hand-me-downs

a blurb set after GKTTSL and Part Two, though this makes sense without having to read them :)

Very brief warning! There's a hospital trip in here, some mentions of blood and dislocations (😵‍💫) but nothing terrible, enjoy :)

One of the greatest joys in Alexia’s newfound life as a parent was sharing her passions with her children and seeing them become almost as obsessed as she was. With Anaís, her six year old daughter, the two played and discussed football for nearly all hours of the day, seven days a week. Her relationship with her first child resembled the relationship she had with her father too, something she did not take for granted and most definitely did not tear up at quite frequently. She relished in Anaís’ appreciation for the sport, because she knew it might not last forever, no matter how much she desperately wanted it to. 

Wth Oriol, he was a very affectionate, quiet, and caring young boy whose favourite thing in the whole world was being with his family, in any capacity. It was very rare for a toddler to be that way, but he had a lot of separation anxiety that meant having his family with him was the thing that brought him the most happiness. Along with dinosaurs, cars, story books and drawing, of course. The one surefire way to get him to sleep was taking him for a drive around the block, and he loved watching the world go by out the car window rather than whatever weird dancing fruits his parents played for him on their phones. He was introverted around most people, but with his loved ones and his family’s friends, he came out of his shell and it was one of the best sights in the world.

Alexia, who now only played for her beloved Barcelona after retiring from the national team, was happier than ever. Her children were growing into beautiful little humans, inside and out, and she had a woman at her side whom she adored more and more everyday, especially since you became the most incredible mother. Everyday, the now naturally brunette woke up with love bursting from her heart and a smile on her face, because there was no longer anything missing from her life. She truly had it all. 

The day her daughter asked to join a proper football club instantly shot up the ranks of the best days of her life so far. She remembers the moment so clearly; laying in Anaís’ bed the night of her sixth birthday with the girl in her arms as they read a bedtime story together, a book named You Choose that you saw in a thrift shop and decided to buy for your daughter’s birthday. Alexia loved the idea of it when you showed it to her – the premise of it was to show young children that they could do absolutely anything they wanted with their life. Upon the first time of reading it, when Anaís got to the page titled ‘Is there a job you’d like to do?’ she pointed out the small drawing of a boy playing football. She pointed to it with determination, and stated that she didn’t want to be like him, but she wanted to be like her Mami. There were tears immediately present in Alexia’s eyes, to which she nodded, and before she could respond to her daughter, the little girl asked to join a club.

To nobody’s surprise, Alexia argued that she could easily get a place for Anaís in the Barça academy. But that wasn’t what you wanted, and parenting went both ways. Just because it was Alexia’s world that Anaís was entering, didn’t mean you couldn’t have a say in it either. There were a handful of frosty conversations, one in particular that featured a lot of colourful language, tears, and a night of going to bed angry at each other, but after some more talking that was handled in an adult way, you both came to a decision. And Alexia, in the end, was more than happy with it. She did a lot of grovelling, because she quickly realised it was definitely the better option. Anaís would join the local girls’ team at first, so she could get a feel for it, and in a few years’ time if she wanted to join the academy, there was a place for her there already.

Fortunately, you were able to be much more flexible with your job, which meant you could choose to work in the office or at home depending on what situation you were in. If your children were on a school break, you could work from home and still spend the day with them, even if it was with your laptop in front of you. If Alexia was away and they were missing her, you could still be there for them too. And Alexia pulled her weight too of course, it was far from one-sided; sending you to the spa whilst she took them for days out, treating you all to family holidays, she did as much as she could and more. Things had just fallen into place perfectly, and none of you would have it any other way. 

That all meant you could quite easily take Anaís to training and to her games, whilst Alexia had to move heaven and earth to ensure she never missed more than one session at once. So far, there had only been one where she had missed two sessions in a row, a practice and a game in which Anaís had scored in, and the anger her daughter harboured at the fact the only other person she cared about impressing wasn’t there… well, it was enough for Alexia to never miss it again if she was in the city. Knowing her daughter was angry at her was one of the most gut-wrenching things she had ever experienced.

And that’s why, mere minutes before Anaís’ game kicked off one Saturday morning in February, you laughed with Oriol sat in your lap at the sight of Alexia running across the field, still in her training kit, to make sure she was there in time. She looked way too under-dressed in the freezing weather, that point backed up by the redness to the tip of her nose and her cheeks, but she didn’t care because she was here and that was all that mattered. 

Just before she reached you, Anaís spotted her from her team huddle and waved emphatically at her number one fan, who instantly reciprocated the excitement before blowing a kiss and gesturing for her to listen. The young girl nodded, her face turning serious (and it looked just like Alexia’s game face) whilst Alexia made her way over to you and your son. In her hand was a cup of coffee, which she handed to you when she sat down.

“Hola amor, hola hijo.” Alexia kissed your cheek and then Oriol’s, quickly adjusting the woolly hat he wore before sighing and turning to the game.

“You didn’t get one for yourself?” You wondered, happily taking a sip of your drink as it helped to warm you up from the inside out. Oriol fidgeted a little, trying to move from your lap into his Mami’s. Alexia smiled down at him and transferred him over, standing him on her knees and hugging him tightly. He giggled into her ear and squeezed her back as best he could. 

“No, just for you. I dropped mine in the car park.” Alexia huffed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Oriol sat back down on her lap, his beady hazel eyes looking around desperately for his big sister.

“Ahí!” Oriol pointed at her with a grin, to which you and Alexia both smiled at.

“Sí, Oriol, well done.” You kissed his forehead and he preened under the attention. You turned to Alexia then, offering your cup to her. “Have it, Ale. It will help warm you up.”

“I’m not col-”

“Yes you are. You’re shivering already, just take the drink. I have a blanket for Oreo here too if you need it.” You pushed the drink into her hands, which she instantly wrapped around the small cup, relieved to feel some heat back into her fingers, but shook her head at the blanket. She didn’t exactly feel like being spotted in public with a dinosaur covered blanket around her shoulders. 

“I got it for you though.” She frowned, only for you to roll your eyes dramatically and kiss it away quickly. You raised an eyebrow at her, which she knew meant don’t argue back anymore. She couldn’t really fight that one, it was her favourite coffee after all.

The whistle blew then as the game kicked off. Alexia shouted some words of encouragement for Anaís and her teammates, but you had to stifle your laughter at the disapproving look on Oriol’s face at the noise. She grimaced at his unimpressed face and ducked down to kiss his cheek, whilst you smiled and shuffled closer to your wife and rested your head on her shoulder.

It turned out to be a pretty fierce game, considering it only featured children no older than eight years old, but Alexia half expected it. The opposing team was all boys, and even despite the progress that had been made in society’s view on football with all genders, some people still had a sour taste in their mouth at the thought of girls playing a 'man's sport'. That was evident in some of the calls from the parents of the other team, as well as how rough they played too. 

You were sat there, wracked with nerves at the physicality on display in a game with such young teams, especially since Anaís wasn’t quite the tallest yet and was only six. Some of the boys nearly towered over her, at least a head or two taller, and whoever organised the match-up was most certainly on Alexia’s hitlist. The brunette was tense the whole game, hardly staying in her seat for longer than a few minutes at once. Oriol had moved back to your lap not long after the game kicked off, understandably. There were multiple points where you could hardly bring yourself to watch, and it felt like a matter of time before someone got injured.

Anaís played as a winger, she was very quick and like all kids her age, loved nothing more than scoring goals. That to them was much more important than any other aspect of football, and even though Alexia had tried explaining to her that it wasn’t the only key thing, you had to remind the captain that she was just a child after all. It would be some years before Anaís fully grasped the whole idea of the sport, so for now, it was all about scoring and nothing else. Fortunately for her, she was very good at it. 

In the other team’s opinion, she was too good, because by half time, Anaís had scored one goal and assisted another to make it 2-0. Alexia was prouder than ever, as always, and she boasted and beamed to you throughout the short break about all the brilliant plays Anaís had made. 

However, it seemed that the boys’ team weren’t happy at all. More specifically, their parents and coaches weren’t happy. If the first half was rough, the second half was bordering on dangerous. And for a reason you nor Alexia will ever understand, Anaís was the target of it all. 

Her team got another goal, increasing the score to 3-0, and it was then that the other team finally lost it. 

With the ball at her feet as she dribbled with outstanding control, Anaís ran as fast as she could down the left side of the pitch, past where you were sat watching. Her attack was cut short when one of the boys from the other team went in with a two-foot tackle, taking her to the ground instantly. 

Your heart dropped at the sight as you froze in place, consumed with worry for your daughter. Alexia was on her feet and going over almost as soon as it happened, but Anaís was already back up and shouting at the boy who tackled her. That sight was a little relieving; she didn’t seem physically hurt after the tackle, just angry. Alexia went to the referee immediately, who stood between Anaís and the boy, and to no one’s shock, the brunette started arguing with the older man. You stayed off to the side, keeping Oriol calm in your arms who was a little upset by what had happened, whilst talking with Anaís’ team coach. 

It was only when Alexia ended her rant at the referee that she noticed the quiver to her daughter’s lip. And the way she discreetly cradled her elbow close to her. The second Alexia caught wind that Anaís might be hurt, all the anger dissolved immediately as she crouched down in front of the six year old. Now that she had a good look at her, she saw the pain in her eyes and the blood seeping through her kit sock.

“Anaís, what hurts? Tell me, princesa, I need you to tell me.” Alexia said desperately, mentally kicking herself for not checking in sooner.

“My shoulder. And my ankle.” Anaís mumbled, her eyes filling with tears but doing her best to fight back all the overwhelming emotions she felt in that moment. 

“Okay, okay. Will you let me carry you to Mama? Let's check you out, hm?” Alexia waited for the little girl to nod, which she did, before scooping her up into her arms whilst being mindful of her shoulder. She jogged carefully off the pitch towards you, her eyes conveying to you the concern she felt in just one glance. “Amor, she's in pain. She got hurt.”

“Sit her down.” You followed the pair of them to where you and Alexia were sitting earlier, watching with worry as tears rolled down Anaís' cheeks. Alexia crouched on the floor in front of her whilst you sat beside her, and that's when you spotted the blood soaking her sock. “Anaís, can we take your boot off?” 

She nodded rather robotically, staying completely silent as she held her left arm close to her body still. The tears were falling, but she still made no noise. Her eyes seemed distant too, and all these were signs pointing towards her being in shock.

You kept your eye on her face closely as Alexia gently took off her boot as well as her sock, only to find quite a gash on the inside of her leg above her ankle. It was bleeding quite a bit and would most likely need stitches, meaning a trip to hospital. Alexia nudged you to urge you to look at it quickly, before the footballer bunched up Anaís’ sock and pressed it against the wound to try and suppress the bleeding. 

“That boy was wearing metal studs. Increíble!” Alexia scoffed and shook her head. Then she took a deep breath to force down her anger, and turned back to her daughter. “Anaís? What about your shoulder?”

The brunette girl didn’t reply, like she hadn’t heard what Alexia said. That caught your attention in an instant.

“Ale, I think she’s in shock.” You told her, voice dripping with concern.

Alexia recognised your anxiety and knew she had to take charge of this situation. She needed to be strong for her family – when all was hopefully settled later, she could off-load her stresses then. For now, all three of her loved ones needed her to be a steady figure in all this worry.

“She’s okay, don’t worry.” She quickly squeezed your knee in comfort, before the same hand cupped Anaís’ cheek to try and bring her back to earth. “Hey chiqui, can you hear me? I need you to talk to me for a moment so we can make you feel better. Please.”

At her mother’s words, Anaís blinked slowly and met Alexia’s worried stare. She nodded twice, a few cries leaving her that she couldn’t quite hold back. Her mind was in overdrive, feeling totally panicked and scared. There was a lot of pain in her shoulder, she felt it pop after falling and again when she pushed herself off of the floor, and it wasn’t until about a minute after her fall that it really started hurting. And when the pain arrived, it arrived hard. She hadn’t felt anything like it, and it seemed like it was only getting stronger. 

“Hurts, Mami. So bad.” She broke out into full-blown sobs then, which only caused her shoulder to throb more in absolute agony. Never, in her nearly seven years of life, had you or Alexia heard her cry so extremely. There were tears of your own brewing at the sight and sound, and Oriol was getting more worked up at it all too.

“I will fix it, mi amor, Mami will fix it.” Alexia hastily took off her quarter zip jumper and somehow tied it carefully around Anaís in a make-shift sling. Her heart broke at the especially loud cry Anaís let out when the captain moved her arm into the right position, but she knew it was a necessary evil and that’s what she focused on in that moment to ensure her confident demeanour didn’t crumble on the spot. 

“Hospital?” You asked quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat when Alexia nodded. 

With the adults and other children watching on, Alexia picked Anaís up and headed off in the direction of the car park. Yourself and Oriol followed along behind with your bag on your back, glad that your wife had driven in her car that day since you and your children had walked. Though it came too late for your standards, you slipped into auto-pilot parent mode then, allowing you and Alexia to work together like a well-oiled machine so you could care for your children. It was decided that you would sit in the back with them so you could comfort them both, despite being squished in between two car seats.

Oriol calmed down quite a bit during the car ride, to your relief though not to your surprise, whilst Anaís sniffled the whole way there with tears still falling steadily. Alexia drove quickly but safely there, and though it wasn’t convenient for all four of you to go, there was no way you weren’t going to be there for your daughter, and your son definitely wouldn’t have wanted to leave you three after the chaos that had occurred. 

That meant you were seated in the waiting room with Alexia to your right and Anaís curled into your chest, her legs in Alexia’s lap whilst Oriol entertained himself with the toys in the kids’ area. The cut to the six year old’s ankle had been stitched up already, only needing three, and now you were all waiting for an x-ray to her shoulder. It had been near enough confirmed that she had dislocated her shoulder, but she had somehow put it back in place herself when she got back up off the ground. Alexia turned a sickly pale colour at the sound of it, to which you knew you would tease her about some point in the future, though the main thing now was that Anaís was a lot calmer after being given some strong painkillers, thankfully.

Her head was tucked under your chin as you ran a hand soothingly up and down your back, yourself exhausted by the day’s stress, even if it had only just turned midday. Alexia had an arm around your shoulders, having pulled you in slightly to lean against her, and her index finger drew comforting circles around Anaís’ knee. The little girl soon caught on to her Mami’s actions, smiling shyly at the woman she idolised which brought a similar smile to the older woman’s face. It turned into a game then, Alexia drawing or writing words on her daughter’s skin as the younger Putellas tried to decipher what had been traced. You watched on in admiration whilst keeping an eye on Oriol, who was lost in his own imagination as he played with some of the cars they had there. 

“Mama, Mami, did you see my goal today?” Anaís wondered out of the blue.

“We did, nena, it was so good. We are so proud of you for it, you played really well.” Alexia answered immediately, smiling brightly at her daughter. 

“Well, that boy said girls can’t play football. But I scored, and he didn’t.” Anaís shrugged her good shoulder, and her words changed Alexia’s smile into a smug smirk.

“That’s my girl.” Alexia held her hand out for a high-five that Anaís accepted with a grin of her own. “Girls can play football. Girls are better at football than boys. Like you are.”

“I know.” Anaís hummed, making you and Alexia laugh. She definitely was her mother’s daughter.

“I thought after you retired that I would get a break from that dangerous sport.” You huffed teasingly, Alexia shaking her head at you and turning to kiss your cheek.

“That will never happen, amor. Nunca.” She said, watching as Oriol came wandering over, seemingly bored of entertaining himself. Alexia picked him up and sat him on her lap, smothering his face in kisses that ignited his adorable little giggle. You watched with love in your eyes as he tried to push his Mami’s face away, only to turn the tables and start covering her face in wet kisses. “At least you get a break from it with this príncipe, no? Because this one is going to get lost in his stories, he will write and draw and write and draw forever, one day we will lose him to a library.” 

“And you wonder where your daughter gets her dramatics from.” You shook your head at her antics, but really, Alexia was doing an incredible job at distracting everyone and keeping them happy. Deep down, you were a little ashamed at how you had acted earlier, and those thoughts were eating you up inside. There wasn’t much you could do about them right now apart from ruminate on them and spiral further into the doubts. 

“Mama? High five?” Oriol wondered, and at that moment, it hit you, what a special little human you were raising. His heart was small but filled to the brim with love and care, and you hoped that it was down to what he saw and experienced in his day to day life. 

“Thank you, Oreo.” You replied, gently hitting his hand just to see his smile afterwards. A smile that was extraordinarily similar to your wife’s, a feature in both your children that you adored endlessly.

“Cookies?” His ears pricked up at his own nickname, which just so happened to be a result of his love for the biscuits he just asked for. Anaís had started it, something you and Alexia overheard as the two children ate lunch together at their tiny table one time, and it had stuck since then.

“Yes, I have oreos for you, tesoro.”

Anaís’ name was called after that, and you decided to go with her into the room whilst Alexia waited outside with Oriol. It was far from a nice experience; the doctor maneuvered her arm into a couple uncomfortable positions which brought the tears back, and it broke your heart to have to wait in the booth as she cried out in pain. The second you were allowed to, you went straight to her and comforted her, like you should have done when she first went down earlier. 

They decided that there was fortunately no further damage to her bones or any surrounding ligaments, meaning she was free to go with instructions to rest, ice it, take some painkillers, and use the sling for around a week to help it heal. Your little family made its way home after that, driving home in comfortable silence since everyone needed to decompress after the ordeal of the day. Oriol’s eyes were drooping shut by the time you arrived home, so you cradled him in your arms as you made your way to the sofa inside, where everyone dropped down together. Some family time was much needed.

It was exactly what was needed, as Oriol quickly fell asleep on top of you as did Anaís in between you and your wife. Now that you had a moment near enough alone with Alexia, you could feel her eyes on you. At this point in your relationship, having known you for so many years now, she could read you easily. It didn’t help that she pretty much knew how your brain worked too, and though she had anxieties of her own about the day, she knew that you would be eating yourself up about it all. Even if she did think you didn’t deserve to treat yourself that way.

Luckily, this was a situation that Alexia was familiar with, in terms of football and injuries. They were unfortunately inevitable, and today was probably Anaís’ first proper introduction into that side of the tough sport. A small silver lining of the day, though it might be more of a selfish thought, was that Anaís hadn’t seemed to have lost any interest in football, which was something Alexia was worried about since her daughter’s first training session. 

You avoided her stare for as long as possible, but a conversation you didn’t want was one you couldn’t avoid. Alexia’s desire for clear communication and her caring nature was one of the things you fell in love with initially, after all. No amount of stalling by closing your eyes and stroking your son’s back could get you out of this one.

“Amor?” Alexia whispered as to not disturb the two sleeping figures beside her.

“I know.” You replied a moment later, taking a few more seconds of cuddling your son before carefully moving him onto the sofa, all whilst he soundly slept. You stood up and made your way to the kitchen, Alexia not far behind after placing forehead kisses on her children.

Your back was to Alexia as she came in, trying to delay the oncoming tears, but that attempt was pointless as the second your wife hugged you from behind, they came pouring out anyway. You tried to keep them silent, for the sake of the sleeping figures not too far away. That was another futile attempt.

“It’s okay to cry, cariño. It makes me sad too.” Alexia told you, frowning when you pulled away from her and turned with a shake of your head.

“But you were there for her. You were the only one out of us two that actually realised she was hurting, I wasn’t there for her then.” You rambled through shaky breaths, one hand clutching the counter tightly as you spoke. “And we should have done something sooner! About the game, it was dangerous and stupid, it shouldn’t have hap-”

“Shh.” Alexia cut off your rant gently, her hand taking yours from its tight hold against the marble, your knuckles nearly white, as the other wiped away your tears. “Don’t get stuck in the ‘what ifs’. This is what parenthood is, we can’t keep them safe all the time, no matter how much we want to.”

“I know.” You muttered reluctantly. “Doesn’t change the fact I wasn’t there for her. I just… panicked. I can’t do that, she needs me, us. She had you but I was stuck in my mind, I wanted to help but I… I froze, Ale. And that scares me.”

“You were there. You looked after our son, you helped him not get worked up, and you were there by her side. You recognised she was in shock, something that I missed, and told me so that I could bring her out of it. You were there in the car, in the hospital. You were there for her, amor, please don’t think you weren’t.” The next point Alexia was going to make was one she wasn’t particularly proud of. “She sees me acting strong when I shouldn’t, something you have always shouted at me for, and she tried to do the same. I didn’t know how badly she was hurting either. Instead, I was arguing with the referee, like it was a game I was playing in.”

You giggled at that admission, knowing it was absolutely true. Anaís had definitely gotten that trait off of Alexia, and no matter how much you loved your wife, you’d be damned if your daughter carried that with her for the rest of her life.

“That really isn’t the best of your hand-me-downs you could have given to her.” You teased, to which she laughed and nodded.

“I know. Sorry about that.” She responded with a grimace. You were both quiet for a moment, just taking the other in after the hectic day that it had been so far, before Alexia raised her arms and gestured for you to hug her, which you did. “It’s normal for you to get scared, especially at that moment. I did too. It was the scariest thing ever, and don’t call me dramatic for saying that.”

“I won’t.” You said. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it?”

“I think so, yes. There will always be injuries in football, and though I will be speaking to whoever let that game go ahead, it’s just how the sport goes. It won’t always be this bad. Look at my career, how many trophies, eh?”

You laughed into her shoulder and lightly pinched her where your hand rested on her back under her shirt. Within the short conversation, the majority of your anxieties had been laid to rest. The only thing you could do to erase the ones that remained was to curl up on the sofa with your wife and children and relax with them for the rest of the day. 

“I love you, Ale. Thank you.” You stated softly, hugging her just that bit tighter as you spoke. “If it’s always going to be this scary, then at least I have you, right?”

 “Always. Like I said before, at least Oriol evens out the stress a little bit, no? The worst injury he could get is probably a paper cut, so.” Alexia shrugged, smiling shortly after you laughed once more. “Now come on. Your children will always love you, no matter if you freeze or if you run off to shout at the referee, because you taught them how to love and they know to do it unconditionally. Please, do not let this one bad day make you doubt how good of a parent you are. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled shyly up at her. “I know you are upset by it too, Ale. You did an amazing job with her, really. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

“No sweat, mamacita.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, before taking her hand and leading her back to the lounge. Back to your caring, compassionate, loving children, to cuddle with them and make sure they knew they never had to experience a day like today alone.

“I hate when you call me that.” 

“Well, don’t be sad and I won’t say stupid things just to see you smile.” 

—

had to throw my favourite childhood book in there, 'you choose' ;) also side note if there are any typos in this either affectionately let me know or ignore pleeeeeease i have stitches in my hand and it hurts to type and i rushed this a little 🙃

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

cat got your tongue - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 3k

Requested - Yes a mutual dared me weeks ago to write a entire fic only about Cole Caufield's tongue.

Author's Note - thank you as always for reading. 💞🫶🏻 This literally took me forever to write because writers block is very real even when you love an idea, also I got this request back in the middle of July before anyone wants to come into my asks. I'm not sure if I like this ending, but that might just be me being my biggest critic.

Warnings - oral receiving but I think that's kind of obvious given the title of this fic. 🤣

Summary - Cole finally convinces you to come to one of his games, but what happens when all you can focus on is the way he sticks his tongue out during a celly.

Tonight was the first time that Cole has finally convinced you to come to one of his games. To be fair you did just meet the guy a month ago in a bar. Unlike Cole, you did not know everything when it came to hockey which could have been one of the reasons that you weren’t pressed on going as soon as Cole brought up the idea. But his constant insisting that turned into begging which was kind of hot finally got you here. In the back of a shared Uber with your friend who actually knows hockey and said she would tag along to explain what the fuck everyone is doing on the ice. At the end of the day trying to learn all the rules of a sport you never even watched was hard. 

Just to mess with Cole a little, you did purchase one of his jerseys which granted a lot of money. But your friend who came along with you to the game, insisted to “do it for the plot.” So here you both are, you in his jersey, entering the arena. Due to the amount of time it took to get through security, you weren’t able to be in your seat until after warm ups had already started. Your seat was center ice but a few rows back purely because you told Cole if he thought your ass was sitting front row at your first ever NHL game, you would simply walk out because you didn’t wanna accidentally end up caught on TV looking like someone who had no idea what was happening around her. 

As soon as Cole saw you, he skated over to the bench although you couldn’t see what he was doing talking to one of the trainers you assumed. He then skated over and started bouncing what looked like the nearest puck on his stick as many times as he could and then passing it over the glass. A fan tried to take it, but he shook his head no and pointed at you. Then he threw another one over for the little boy who was a couple seats down from you, before skating off continuing on with warmups. 

“Why was that kind of hot?” you whispered to your friend. 

“Wow who knew a basic white boy would have you down this bad?” she teased.

“Bitch shut up.” you said before you finally looked down at the puck. Cole must have asked the trainer for a marker and signed the puck before coming over. 

You look hot with my name on you. Meet me in the tunnels after the game. 

Deciding not to tell your friend about the message you look up to see Cole sitting on the bench now making direct eye contact with you as he watches you read his message. Nodding your head yes and mouthing ‘okay’, even from the other side of the arena the smile that spreads across his face is seen clearly from your seat. 

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

Cole was literally playing like his life depended on it tonight. Now granted you might not understand all the little detailed rules when it comes to hockey. But you knew an assist was a good thing, in period one alone Cole had 2 assists and something about the way that he got one knee skating for a celly with his tongue slightly sticking out. Something that is so simple, made you feel your stomach drop, getting more and more turned the second time he did it. 

During intermission, you and your friend went to the bathroom and maybe it was the 3 beers you consumed but somehow you both started joking around about what your friend calls “your new fetish Cole’s tongue.” Jokingly you stuck your tongue out ever so slightly. Not realizing in that millisecond your friend took a mirror selfie, your side to the mirror the famous ‘22’ on display with Caulfeild, sticking your tongue out ever so slightly with your butt teasingly pushed up. Honestly, you kind of looked hot in the picture and made a mental note to ask your friend to send the picture to you later. 

As the first intermission was about to end you just made it back to your seat. Cole was able to pull off another assist during the second period. Your friend who has been a fan of the Hubs her entire life told you that you're never allowed to miss a game again because if this was how the rest of the season was gonna go they might make it to the playoffs. All you could do was chuckle at her superstitious behavior. But stopped when the fans around her were agreeing with her when she told them this was your first ever game, Cole invited you and this is how he was playing. 

“Oh my god please stop. I don’t want my life to end on twitter. Y/B/F/N.” you begged, taking your hand and covering her mouth. She drunkenly agreed to stop and both of you turned your attention back to the game. Even when he wasn’t on the ice, your eyes couldn’t leave Cole. Every once in a while he would catch you staring at him and making a teasing face back at you, pecking his lips, or sticking his tongue out extra far in order to get an air sip of his water. Every time he did all you could think about was his tongue wrapping around the clit or lapping your pussy like it was on display right now for thousands to see. Every time he was on the bench and went to lick his lips you found yourself squirming in your seat. All your friend could do was roll her eyes at your behavior. 

Somehow you made it to the third period, but that’s when Cole scored a goal. You swear it was just to tease you, he skated past your section sticking his tongue out and wiggling it. “Fuck” you mumble to yourself. 

“Y/N there are children around. Stop ya nasty!” your friend says as she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about sitting on top of Cole’s face or him on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulders. As you rolled your hips against his tongue dragged. - 

Suddenly your brain was brought back to real time as the final buzzer went off. Everyone around you cheered as the HUBS won a shutout - which your friend just told you is what it’s called when the other team doesn’t score a single goal during a game. But to be perfectly honest you weren’t really paying attention to your friend explaining any more slang hockey terms, your eyes focused on Cole as he skated around the ice with his teammates celebrating. The crowd was going crazy as it was the only shutout in what seemed like a lifetime, you could feel the energy of the crowd as you felt your body slightly move with all the jumping fans around you. Cole finally looked over at you from center ice and smiled. He titled his head towards the tunnels slightly reminding you of the puck and the note written on it, you nodded your head yes as you felt your cheeks heat up slightly from anticipation. 

Slowly the crowd started leaving once the boys were leaving the ice, finally there was enough room for you and your friend to make your way to the steps. 

“Hey thanks for coming by the way.” as you stop at the top of the steps. 

“It was fun. Are you ready to go?” 

“Actually Cole told me to meet him in the tunnels after the game.” you admit a light blush still painting your cheeks. 

“ooo okay have fun girly. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t. Text me when you get back to his place.” As she wraps her arms around you to hug you goodbye quickly. 

A laugh escapes your lips at your friend's words. “What do you mean ‘his place'?” Making a quotation sign with your hand. 

“Well we both know you aren’t going home tonight. You know you'll be busy with him, I’ll just check your location.” 

Before you could open your mouth she turned around and was gone. All you could do is laugh as you stood there and watched her walk away. Quickly you turned around and started walking towards the other side of the arena where the tunnels were. Somehow managing to find your way around, you pulled your phone out to text Cole that you were waiting outside of the locker room for him after being stopped by security, but thankfully the pass Cole gave you just in case came in handy. Standing against the wall scrolling Twitter while you waited for Cole to be done. 

Somehow the fan girls work faster than you could have ever imagined because someone made a gif of Cole’s tongue sticking out as he skated against the glass during his celly earlier tonight. Watching the gif over and over your breath caught in your throat as all your thoughts form earlier tonight just wanting to want Cole sink to his knees in front of you and eat you out came flooding back. Imagining your hand in his hair helping his face grind against using his tongue for nothing else except your own pleasure. Your mind was wandering and you could feel yourself dripping at the thought of making Cole sink to his knees, you refusing to pull his hair at first as punishment for teasing you all night. 

Lost in your own thoughts you didn’t even hear Cole leaving the locker room or coming up to you. Cole knew you were lost in your own world and decided to scare you by running up to you from behind wrapping his arms around you and leaving a wet kiss on your cheek. All that could be heard in the mostly quiet hallway now since he was one of the last players out was his laugh as you squirmed in his arms. “Ew Cole let me down.” you shirked in a high pitch voice he laughed in response spinning you around one more time before setting you down. 

“So how did you like watching me play?” he asked, finally facing you, still trying to hold you as close as possible. 

“It was good. It was actually kind of hot watching you play.” you admit with a smirk on your lips. 

Cole gives you a puzzling look as he questions, “oh yeah?” in a teasing tone. 

All you do is flash him a cheeky grin as you admit, “yeah watching you do your little celly on the ice was so hot, but I just kept watching you stick your tongue out all night.” Leaning up to his ear despite no one being around you whispered, “all I could think about was getting you to sink to your knees so I could ride your face, one leg over your shoulder, my back against the wall and not let you touch yourself as punishment for teasing me all night. My hands in your hair pulling and tugging as much as I wanted. All while your tongue is busy, so you can’t even beg me to let you touch yourself to give your hard cock some relief.” 

As you lean back only far away enough to see his face, his mouth is ajar in shock at your words. It’s as if he’s processing your words and for the first time in his life he’s quiet for more than a minute, you decide to further tease him while he stands there frozen. “What’s the matter baby boy, cat got your tongue?” A smirk on your lips as you watch him blink, as if his brain has finally caught up to the world around him. 

“No, not yet.” His voice is an octave deeper than before filled with lust. Suddenly he’s pulling you down the hallway towards the parking garage. “But it will be.” 

But just as you were about to exit the stadium to enter the connected parking garage, Cole made a sharp left turn down a separate hallway. “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Oh, we're making your words reality mamas.” As he opens a door and suddenly you find yourself in some type of equipment storage closet. In the corner is an extra medical bed, and there are sticks everywhere along another wall. But you don’t have too much time to examine the room before you feel Cole behind you after he locks the door. “ Kissing down your neck, blowing air into your ear and all you can do is compliment him by sighing at the feeling. 

Quickly you regain your composure and turn around in his arms, finding his lips and kissing him hard. Fighting for dominance, and smirking when you slip your tongue into his mouth, he moans as a response and you can feel your underwear being damp from the sound he makes. Pushing him off of yourself quickly. You take a step back, you're against the wall now as you unbuckle your jeans. He says to you ��have I told you how pretty you look with my name on your back.” 

Holding your hand up against his chest to stop him from getting any closer to you.”naw ah ah. Let’s put that tongue to good use, less yapping yeah?” Even though you phrase it as a question, your tone is stern and demanding. Taking your left hand that wasn’t on Cole’s chest you move it to his shoulder slightly pushing him down so he’s on his knees. The way he glances up to you with his now darker blue eyes could have made you come right there. Trying to take a breath without showing him how much control he really does have over you at the moment. Pulling your jeans down the rest of the way and stepping out of them, slipping your shoes so you can slip your skinny jeans off the rest of the way. 

Looking down at Cole in a full suit, suddenly deciding he’s in too much clothing as he kisses your exposed thighs in front of you. “Take. Off. Your. jacket.” 

“Yes Momas.” he says, taking his suit jacket, refusing to lose eye contact with you. He tosses the jacket somewhere behind him joining your jeans. He sticks his tongue out to tease you more as you throw your right leg over his shoulder. 

“Don’t even think about teasing Cole.” you grunt. He moves your underwear to the side swiping up and down your cunt in quick motions. “You wanna be a good boy right?” you ask as you tug slightly on his hair. 

“Hmm.” he moans as a yes on your clit, closing your eyes at the taste. Taking your hands you tug hard on his hair. 

“No, gotta keep your eyes open. I wanna see you while I grind on your face.” As you start to lightly roll your hips, Cole’s hands find the flesh of your ass and back of your thighs. He pulls you closer and starts kneading the soft flesh looking directly up to you as he moves his tongue down to your hole. Pushing in and out teasingly as his nose bumps his nose against your clit. “Fuck Cole.” you moan as you push your shoulders against the door, throwing your head back, closing your eyes at the feeling. Your hands go under the jersey finding your boobs squeezing them through your bra trying to play with your nipples. And then you feel Cole move his head so slightly causing a new angle as you roll your hips against his face even harder. “Fuck right there baby. Don’t stop.” you whine. So much for being in control but right now you couldn’t give a fuck with how good Cole was making you feel. 

Cole goes back up with his tongue to do circles over your clit driving so crazy. You don’t even realize one of his hands leaves your ass and his fingers find your hole abusing it even more than his tongue was a minute ago. “Fuck Cole I’m close.” you warn and that’s all you have time to grunt out before your vision blurs and you feel your legs shake, if it hadn’t been for Cole holding you upright you would have fell. He continues to eat you lapping up all your juices until your legs stop shaking and your breathing isn’t so ragged. 

Gently he removes his face from your pussy, careful to keep a steady grip on your legs so you stay up right. He slowly makes his way up to you, pulling you into a kiss so you can taste yourself and all you can do is moan in response. “Usually it takes more than a guy eating you out to feel this tired but holy shit Cole.” you mumble leaning your head on his shoulder closing your thighs. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” he says, reaching down for your jeans that were thrown away earlier. 

“No.” you whine. “ I’m not leaving you with this.” As you gently take one of your hands to slightly cup his bulge in his suit pants. He hisses in response. “See your in pain.” you complain.

“I’ll be fine. You just said your tired baby.” he argues. Looking back over at the medical examination bed in the corner of the room you get an idea. Slowly taking one of his hands you turn and walk backwards towards the bed guiding Cole with you. Letting go of his hand, you slip your underwear off the rest of the way and throw in his direction. He catches it on reflex sucking in a breath as feel the medical table behind you. Slowly you climb on and scoot all the way back. 

“I’m not too tired for you. Take what you need. Be good for me, make me cum again baby boy.” you beg as you lay down and spread your legs for Cole to have a perfect few of your still dripping pussy from your first orgasim. 

“Fuck. how did I get so lucky to get you.” he mumbles to himself as you watch him undress and make his way over to you.

[jthealien]

I was going to do a quick analysis on the comic’s title in relation to Buddy and uh. here I am now 900 words later. hope at least one person enjoys this,,

TLDR: Maybe the real Cinderella Boy was the weird goth friends we made along the way.

So I was doing my routine pondering of Dreams by Night (because symbolism and parallels are like crack to me) and this line right here might my favorite piece of dialogue in the whole comic:

Really this scene as a whole might be my favorite moment, but that line in particular — and its implications — are so fascinating to me.

Chase yet again breaks the conventions of a story, but this time it's the story of Cinderella Boy itself. In this case, Chase relinquishes his title of The Hero — or more accurately — The Protagonist. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that right after this moment is our first glimpse of Buddy outside of Chase’s perspective. Outside of the narrative up to that point of him being a villain.

I also don’t think it's a coincidence this is something as unreliable as a dream: a (quite literal) look inside Buddy’s head and thought process. Again, further establishing the unreliability of the story’s narrative as we know it.

I’ll stop before I go full blown analysis mode on the comic’s meta themes of narrative and conventions (saving that for another time). But I do bring up all this stuff about changing the view of the narrative, because I want to talk about another implication of ”This can be your story too.”

Which is that the title of Cinderella Boy actually refers to Buddy (or at least also refers to him).

Chase does fit a lot of the qualities of Cinderella and that story. I mean, it’s the very first story we see him in. But, I also think the Cinderella story fits Buddy even more.

List:

—A young person trapped in a horrible situation, stuck wearing rags and being treated as a pawn for a higher authority’s bidding. (Cinderella being a servant for her “family” and Buddy being a servant for Ex Libris).

—Said higher authority being cruel (The Evil Stepmother and the Old Man)

—The young person is assisted by a lady who gives her nice clothes and an avenue to escape reality. (Violet acting as a fairy godmother-like figure).

—Young person falls in love with a man who can rescue them from their troubles (the Prince and Chase), but doesn’t reveal their identity to the man

—Both Cinderella and Buddy are just nicknames, but that’s how everybody refers to them.

So yeah, lots of parallels to Cinderella with Buddy, at least based on the little we know about him.

I also want to bring up something we see in the very beginning of Cinderella Boy. In the first episode, we get a cliff notes version of Cinderella’s story. Colors (especially background colors) are really important in the comic, representing emotions and characters. And what is the main color that reappears again and again in this episode?

Purple.

The petals and roses that surround the snippets of story and the revealing of the main character, all Buddy’s signature color. The petals only turn pink — Chase’s color — when Chase actually appears.

Side note: The inclusion of both purple and pink side by side in this episode also alludes to the fact that, from the start, this is both Buddy and Chase’s story. (Seriously, go check it out, there’s so many instances it’s hard to unsee when looking for them).

Also, where else have we seen purple roses? Oh yeah, Chase’s dream in Dreams by Night. I’ve already rambled about its importance to shifting the narrative. Granted that’s not the only place purple roses appear, but it’s the most relevant.

Beyond just the colors, the actual descriptions of the heroine in the first episode should sound pretty familiar. A person “unknown to all” and “dressed in humble rags.” Sounds a lot like Buddy, from what we see in his dream at least.

Ok, so having discussed all of Buddy’s connections to Cinderella and the comic’s title maybe being about him, this is the part where I start speculating and jumping fifty different sharks. I want to make some predictions about Buddy based on the Cinderella story.

List (the sequel):

1- Buddy is an orphan. (Not far-fetched of an assumption to make about him in general, since in Beach Boys VI he expresses what seems to be confusion about the idea of having a family).

2- The palace’s clock is important in Cinderella, and Buddy’s dream heavily features a clock. So, Buddy’s likely running out of time for something. To find the keys or just being able to see Chase, either/or. What’s going to happen when that time is up? Well…

3- Mimicking Cinderella running away at midnight, Buddy’s going to be forced to leave the stories for good, likely as the season finale.

4- I think Buddy’s going to leave behind a metaphorical glass slipper, an identifier. What do I think it’ll be? His name. (Considering the current relationship between Buddy and Chase. And the fact we’re getting close to the end of the season and therefore a Buddy name reveal, I don’t think this is too improbable).

4.5- This is the most out there one, but Buddy’s name might be related to the name Ella, which is Cinderella’s original name in many interations. Maybe Ellis, Elliot, or Elijah.

It’ll be fun to see if any of these are actually close to what’ll happen. And with that, I’ll end my red string board session for now. :]

[fanfictionalraven]

Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly. 

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing. 

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other.  There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks. 

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all.  “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table. 

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead. 

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something  I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you –,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

**

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment. 

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

[hexlenx]

POPULAR PARTNER — james fleamont potter, galinda!reader

note: I do not own James Potter or any of the characters in this fic! This is made purely for entertainment purposes. You reader will still have the characteristics as well as the outfits and hair because you wouldn't be galinda if you didn't, now would you?/j

warnings!: none actually.

__________________

It was said that James Fleamont Potter along with his friends were coming to the boarding school of Oz, Shiz. Everyone cheered because of excitement and curiosity. I mean, who wouldn't? This was the infamous prince of the Potters! Yes, infamous.

The Potters were a friend of the Wizard of Oz from generations to generations, who wouldn't want to be in the limelight of all that?

And by limelight, it meant marriage to the one and only heir of the Potters. They were royalty in the Kingdom of Oz due to the Wizard of Oz granting them of such title as a sign of friendship. After all, what's a kingdom without a royal? The Wizard is definitely not fit for that, and so he threw it to someone else.

So in short, get married to James, get riches, be a princess, be queen plus a handsome husband! Very ideal.

The docks of the institution were bustling with chatter, students and staffs alike were awaiting for the sight of the newcomers. Excitement could be seen visible among the air as majority of the ladies proceed to fix themselves, some unbuttoning some of their buttons of their shirt, some combing their hair and some putting lipgloss on their lips as well as blushes. They were trying to make themselves even more appealing which made some of the males roll their eyes in annoyance, not understanding why the women should entice a man they haven't met.

A boat covered like a tent slowly stopped at the dock. This made everyone hold their breaths in anticipation. The boat, tho albeit small, was magnificent. A symbol of a stag visible on its doors and the flag having the same symbol. This was a royal's boat. Oh, how exciting.

The door opened, a hand showed by the handle making everyone hold their breaths once more. Then a man came out, he was handsome even with the scars on his face. It made some of the ladies swoon, fanning their faces as it flushed flustered. A man came out and he was just as attractive, if not more, as the first. Jet black hair that stopped by the shoulders and grey eyes that glinted with smugness by the attention.

Then came the next and last, unruly brunette hair, hazel eyes that looked like it was staring at you with so much love, a small smirk on his lips that looked enticing to kiss and don't get me started on his physique. His figure was lean but mascular, you can tell by the way his clothes hugged his body and oh, Wizard of Oz, his arms. Some of the women fainted as they gazed at the lovely, handsome and delicious men.

The young men exchanged glances of amusement towards each other before getting out of the boat and straight towards the gates of Shiz. All three anticipating what the school has to offer.

As the young men were walking, there was a petite young woman, with perfect posture, dressed in all different shades of pink, her outfit complimenting her blonde silky wavy hair, pale skin and pointy matching colored heels. She was you.

You've read from the newspaper this early morning about the Prince of Oz coming to the Shiz Academy and you just had to take this opportunity to entice such a handsome man! I mean, who wouldn't? Definitely not you.

"Hi, may I?" You whispered to a fellow student sitting on one of the stone seats surrounding a tree. The student nodded and you muttered a quick thanks as you took his book onto your hands. Tossing your hair, you began to walk elegantly towards the Prince and his friends while pretending to read the book.

James, Sirius and Remus ceased their walking as they stopped in front of a map of the academy. They were trying to figure out on where to go to first in the rather gigantic school. Sirius and Remus noticed you quietly and subtly walking towards them, seeing how you were focused on James. They both grinned at each other and stepped aside a bit to let you have your chance. After all, you were very pretty and they knew just by one look, you were popular.

With a clear of your throat you asked the Prince.

"Are you looking for something? Or perhaps..." You said in a soft tone as you flipped your hair before looking at his face intently, you were taking in his appearance as it seemed to bewitch you to stare. "..someone?"

"No, no, I was just looking at how big this school is.." James trailed off the moment he saw you. You looked so pure in his eyes, a doll was what you were like with your doe like eyes. You were very beautiful.

"Hm." You shrugged as you then moved gracefully towards the other side of the map, leaning on it as you pretended to read the book once again.

James followed you, amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned on the side of the board as well. Smiling slightly at your adorable gesture of flirting, it was cute, not the best but it was working, for him at least.

"Oh, you're still here?" You said in feign surprise as you looked at him. Making James huff a chuckle while nodding to your question.

"Well, I was assigned to give a guided tour for the newly arrived students." You then snapped your book shut as you glided back towards the other side of the board. "Are you..a newly arrived student?" James smirked at your attempt of trying to seduce him, it was adorable yet he didn't seem to care for how bad it is.

"I am now." James spoke in a husky manner as he subtly eyed your whole physique. You smiled at him as your eyes roamed over his figure, he wasn't the only one charmed, he had you trapped as well.

"Well, you've found just the right person, and you can invite your.. associates as well." You said with a grin as your gaze glanced towards his friends behind him. They were watching with amusement throughout the whole ordeal. "Follow me, my king."

That name made James smirk and huff in pride. A king, how quaint.

"And this, is the book place." You said a bit confused on what to call the library as you've never stepped foot in it nor known what it is called. The trio looked at you with amusement to what you called the library.

"There are a lot of different books that...you can read and find in this room, even rare ones." You smiled at them fluttering your eyelids. That's it, short and simple. You thought to yourself.

"It's quite nice." James responded with a charming smile while Remus and Sirius nudged each other, mocking their friend in whispers.

You hummed and shrugged as you all walked through the library, ignoring the glances following your figures. I mean, you all were quite popular. The spinning bookshelf fascinating the Marauders as they've never seen a structure like that before. Makes Remus beam in awe as well as excitement, his inner bookworm screaming out internally.

You all then split ways, though it was mostly Remus and Sirius going on their own way, leaving both you and James to find something to do.

You didn't know what to do as you skimmed through the books, boredom seeping through you as well as your anxiety. You didn't want to look quaint but the awkwardness was unbearable. James on the other hand doesn't feel that way, although he was thinking of how to get you to talk more. He quite likes listening to you.

"So—"

"What are—"

You both stopped to stare at each other, startled as you both spoke at the same time. Before a smile broke out from the both of you.

"Lady's first." James gestured.

"Oh, no. It is quite alright, you go on ahead." You proposed with a smile.

"Well, I was wondering if you knew the ball coming up this weekend." James wondered as he looked at you intently to the eyes. Your eyes widened and turned around to slap yourself lightly to make sure it was happening for real, startling James from your action. Before you turned back once more, acting like you didn't just do that to yourself.

"Yes!—I mean, of course. Everyone is coming." You squeaked out yes before clearing your throat pretending you just didn't squeal. James watched you with an amused smirk, chuckling slightly from your adorable actions.

"Would you like to be my date for that night?" James proposed as he took your hand and bent down to kiss the back of it while keeping eye contact with you. His gaze was so intense, it caused a shiver down your spine.

"I...I would be honored." You stuttered as you looked at him with a very flushed face. A contrast to your flirty nature earlier.

"Then I shall see you there, love."

[xomakara]

Waiting For Your Love

SUMMARY |   In which Mark is secretly your boyfriend, takes you to his place and wants to take your relationship to the next level PAIRINGS | Mark/Fem!Reader GENRE |  college au, non-idols, fluff, soft, smut RATING |  Mature LENGTH | 3,654 words AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I had this one-shot saved on my computer for awhile. So why not just post it? I will definitely be writing a chaptered/series of Mark though lol. Plus my title makes no sense in the story’s context but who gives a care. I hope you enjoy it!

"Take it."

You blinked several times, looking at the notebook that was suddenly thrown on your desk. You looked up at the male who was the culprit, his dark hair framing against his forehead, his lips in a grimace.

What the hell was his problem? You continued to look at the notebook, wondering what in the world was in it. It wasn't yours, you knew that much. One of your friends perhaps? Maybe one of the other guys dropped it?

"Because you were sick the other day." Mark Lee softly said, your gaze going to his face. He noticed your hesitation and explained his actions. "I took notes and thought you might want them."

"Hey!" One of the male students yelled from across the room. "That was my job! You can't just take my job like that Mark! Gimme those notes."

Mark shook his head. "No can do. Y/N needs my notes, not yours."

"Why you little-" Renjun was held back by a few of the other males in the classroom.

You couldn't help but chuckle. Mark was sure concerned about your health. But why and how did he even know you were sick the other day? As far as you were concerned, Mark never paid you attention nor seemed somewhat interested in you.

But that was before.

Until you started dating each other for a good year.

Of course it was a secret to everyone in the classroom. Apart from two people that were Mark's roommates but you had to blackmail them to be quiet or hell would let loose. How would it sound if THE Mark Lee, the most popular underclassman at your college campus was dating a nobody?

You shook your head, brandishing that thought from your head.

You were somebody. Granted you didn’t hang out in Mark’s social circles but you had a few of your own. And you were widely popular within those circles.

You frowned, not showing that you were secretly happy that your boyfriend took notes for you. You shook your head and turned to your female friends as they barrage you for answers.

"I can't believe Mark gave you his notebook." Jaemi whispered, lightly giggling as she watched some of the males teasing Mark.

You didn't know that he could turn a slight shade of pink.

He never turned pink in front of you. It was kind of cute. He turned around slightly, giving you a small shy smile before returning to his desk. Suddenly plopping down on his chair, he placed his head on the table, no doubt trying to hide his embarrassed face.

"I can't believe he took notes." Sumin muttered in shock, as she poked at the book. It was labeled 'English', supposingly for English Literature since you both took that class. "That's a surprise right there."

"Well, Haechan has always told me that Mark is pretty smart." Rahee shrugged and gave Haechan a small wave. "Even though he doesn't show it."

"Really?" You asked Rahee. You knew your boyfriend was smart but you decided to play along. "He seems like a slacker to me."

"Despite what everyone may think, Mark is actually a pretty laid back guy." Rahee nodded her head and looked at the notebook. "But he's pretty considerate considering his reputation. He's not a bad boy, so you can relax Y/N."

"And you know how, Rahee?" Sumin nudged the girl. "From Haechan?"

"It's one of the perks of dating the underclassmen rep." Jaemi answered as she watched Rahee winking at Haechan. "She gets all the dirty details from him."

"But if Mark—" You never got to finish your question since Rahee disappeared. You noticed Rahee snaking her arms with Haechan and walked out of the classroom. No doubt trying to find a private place to make out. "That girl always runs off with him."

"What can you say?" Sumin laughed as she noticed your expression of disgust. "Is it that weird for Rahee and Haechan to be dating?"

"Not weird." You answered, suddenly looking down at the notebook again. You noticed Mark's doodles and had to suppress a chuckle. "More of 'I can't believe Rahee snagged a boyfriend before us.’ Why can't I get a boyfriend?"

"We have plenty of male classmates." Sumin chuckled. "One of them is bound to date you."

"No thanks." You shook your head. You already had a boyfriend but no one really knew that. "Xiaojun, Hendery and Yangyang already asked me and I turned them down."

"But there's still Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, Jisung, and all the other dudes." Jaemi listed out, the guys looking up from their classwork or conversation. Seeing as it wasn't important, they continued whatever they were doing. “Plus the upperclassmen like Jungwoo, Jaehyun and Winwin to name some.”

"You forgot Mark." Sumin muttered, looking at him as if he heard.

He was still asleep.

"No to all of them." You scoffed. You thought of your boyfriend and slightly turned pink. "Well maybe to some of them..."

Your other two friends started laughing. You had always believed that you'd be the first of your group of friends to get a boyfriend first. Rahee ruined it when she announced she was dating Haechan. You came second after Mark secretly confessed that he liked you and you two started secretly dating.

It was no secret that you were quite a good-looking girl. You had your share of admirers; from the bad boy greaseball Jaemin, heart throb Jeno, irritable Renjun amongst some. You turned them down all flat, none of them remotely interesting to you. You had high standards for a boyfriend, and sure the guys you turned down all met those standards but it just didn't feel right.

Until Mark swept you off your feet.

"Yo babe," Hendery slithered to your desk and sent you a flirtatious wink. "The boys and I are going to play basketball. Care to watch?"

"No, thank you Hendery." You refused. Sure you turned him down but Hendery still called you babe. He was one of the two boys you blackmailed. "Last time I went to watch a game, I got hit by the ball because Jisung wasn't looking at who he was passing the ball to."

"My bad!" Jisung called out, his hair sticking in odd places. "I thought I passed it to Chenle but he was too busy staring at Sumin."

"Yah! Are you saying it's my fault?" Chenle shouted. The boys shouted in unison that it was indeed his fault.

"That sucks. Maybe next time." Hendery muttered before moving on to your friend Sumin, who gave him the middle finger. He chuckled before waving and disappeared from the classroom with the boys in tow, Chenle whining on how his hyung just flirted with the pretty girl.

"Should we just go?" Jaemi asked as she looked around the classroom. It was empty apart from the three girls, Mark, Xiaojun and Yangyang. "They all left to play basketball."

"Let's go Y/N. Besides Rahee has some explaining to do." Sumin rose from her seat and went towards Xiaojun and Yangyang, both boys looking up from their books.

Suggesting they all go watch the game together, the two boys nodded their heads and shut their books. Since you were putting your things away, Xiaojun stopped before leaving the classroom, only to say, "Y/N. Can you wake Mark up before you leave?"

"Okay, Xiaojun." You nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Xiaojun was the other boy you had to blackmail. You actually threatened to get rid of his stuff if he spilt the beans.

Walking towards Mark, you couldn't help but stare at his sleeping face. His lashes were surprisingly long, his skin looked smooth, and his jawline looked absolutely chiseled. He was a handsome man and you always told him so. You shook him lightly, he rustled slightly.

"Mark?" You shook him again. "Mark, wake up."

"Hmm?" He groaned out, sleepily opening his eyes. Noticing it was you, he slowly smiled. "Well, hi there."

What was this sleepy smile about? He kind of took your breath away for a second. "Don't say hi to me like that. What if others saw?"

"Is there anyone else here?" He mumbled, lifting his head slowly to look around the room. Seeing as he was in the clear, he looked back at you. "It's just you and me."

When will he stop smiling like that?

"Mark, everyone is playing basketball." You let out, your voice somewhat small. "Did you want to go join them?"

"Do you?" He asked, his husky voice asked you.

Was his voice always this deep? You never noticed it before but his voice was definitely sexy and that was one of the top five traits you'd like in a man. You shook your head to stop thinking such inappropriate things but Mark took it as something else.

"Why don't we go to my place?" He suggested, standing up to grab his bag and then to take yours from your grasp. You tried to refuse him but he took it anyway. "Let me carry your things."

Walking side by side with your boyfriend had never been as exhilarating as walking home with Yangyang and Haechan. Mark made you swoon with his manly side and he would occasionally walk where the road met the sidewalk so you wouldn't get hurt.

He was caring and you fell for him hard.

You had to speak up. "Mark? Do you like me?"

"If I didn't, you wouldn't be my girlfriend right?" He replied back with a question. Stopping in front of the apartment he shared with Xiaojun and Hendery, he unlocked the door and ushered you in. Kicking off your shoes, you strolled into the surprisingly clean home and settled on the couch.

Mark followed after you.

"The guys will be back soon after the game." You whispered as Mark leaned towards you.

"They won't be here for a while." He whispered back before claiming your mouth.

Mark was kissing you.

The fullness of your lips pressing against his. He tasted the sweet flavors of your lips. He was fully aware that he was kissing you, but man, did your lips make him go crazy. One of his hands clutched your lower back whereas the other hand cupped the back of your head. Your hand rested on his shoulder as Mark's lips moved over yours.

At first it was an innocent touch of lips: gently, sweetly, and with an eye to innocence. But gradually the roaring in Mark's blood began to beat back the gentleman in him, and he started to taste you rather than kiss you. And tasting you was like an intoxication in which every touch made him hungrier. His fingers curled possessively into your sweet-smelling hair, and he bent his head, taking your mouth, that unbearably desirable mouth, with a growl that had nothing to do with gentlemanly behavior.

Your mind was drowning, whirling. His mouth was hot on yours- hot! How could it be hot? You felt as if all your most important senses were lost, whirling around so that all you could do was clutch his shoulders and hang on, fighting the strange sensations that kept sweeping over your body, making your knees tremble and an unwanted heat grow between your legs, and your forehead felt feverish.

In fact, your whole body felt feverish.

Mark pulled back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"What?" You raised your eyebrows at him, your fingers coming to your lips.

"For kissing you." He clarified, his hand moving to cup your cheeks. "I just couldn't help myself. You look beautiful."

"Then don't stop." You muttered, looking into his eyes.

"If I don't stop then this will lead to things..." He stood up and walked a short distance to the kitchen.

You went after him and took his hands in yours. "Mark. I don't care if this leads to things. You want me and I want you."

"Oh."

"So just kiss me again. And whatever happens, let's just go with it."

Mark smiled, closing the distance between the two of you, as he settled his mouth over yours, felt you stiffen in a moment of surprise, then your hands crept up to his shoulders, slid gently around his neck, and you kissed him back. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth of your small body pressing against him.

Mark tightened his hold against you, as he deepened the kiss, coaxing your lips apart, taking you with his tongue. His tongue touched yours and a jolt of heat went sliding through him.

He kissed the side of your neck, tasted the small shell-like rim of an ear, and kissed you again, cupping your ass and pulled you against his arousal. There was only an instant's hesitation before you melted against him, returning the kiss in full measure, your breasts brushing against the front of his shirt. He lifted you up and walked you to the kitchen counter.

Mark squeezed your ass and you yelped, his tongue sliding into your sweet wet cavern.

You writhed in his arms but had stopped when his hands covered your breast. You shivered in delight, the sensation new to you. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his dark thick locks of hair. He brought you closer, opening your legs so he could stand between them. His hands were under your skirt, slowly moving up your legs to your waist, to the sides of your upper body. He threw your shirt off only to reach behind and unhooked your bra, your breasts coming from its confinement.

You crossed your arms when you felt air hit your nipples. You didn't know why you were feeling the way you were feeling. You colored up again, crossing your legs from letting Mark remove your skirt.

"You sure the guys won't intrude?" You muttered as you bit your bottom lip. Damn, you looked really hot when you did that. You looked him in the eye and saw the intense look he was giving you. "I don't want them to start blabbering their mouths like they always do. Especially if we start to fuck."

"I'm sure they won't intrude." Mark sexily pouted, his body coming close to you and trying to pry your legs open again so he can stand between them. "Besides, Hendery told me that he and Sumin are currently seeing each other and that they're going on a date. Xiaojun is going over to hang out with Yangyang and Renjun."

"Is that why you asked me to come over?" You asked, surprised that Sumin didn't tell you that she was dating Hendery.

"Yeah." Mark brushed his lips against yours. "I. Want. You. Very badly."

"Me too." You muttered against his lips. But instead of backing away from him, you set your lips on his and boldly kissed him.

Mark was thrown off track. He grasped your hips and pulled you closer to him, your short skirt making way for him to stand between them. He brushed his fingers against your wet panties, knowing that you were undeniably wet and was going to writhe beneath him.

"Say you want it. Say you want me. And only me." Mark muttered against your lips.

You knew what you wanted. This feeling that he was making you feel bold. You felt your body go on fire, your cheeks red, your arms wrapping around his neck and clinging to him.

As if your life depended on it.

"I want you Mark." You pulled back slightly, breathing heavy. “I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled. He slid his hands up your legs and grasped the inside of your thighs to part them for easier access to your panties. "I'll have you screaming my name, babe."

"Where did you learn to say that‒" Mark silenced you by kissing you again and again. One hand worked his way to cup your breast, kneading the soft globes and raking his nails against your nipples. The other hand slid your panties to the side, his fingers brushing against your slit. "Oh my god..."

"Baby, you know what's gonna happen right?" He asked, his voice husky against your ear. He pushed a finger into you, his long finger being buried into your wet heat as he kissed your earlobe and kissed your neck. "You are so wet and tight, Y/N."

"Ah...oh god.." You had tried to push your legs together from letting your boyfriend touch you in the most sacred of places, but he was already too fast as you felt his finger in your deep core, his thumb teasingly rubbing your clit. "Please, Mark..."

Mark bit your ear again, his tongue swirling around. The one hand on your breast was teasing, cupping, kneading, squeezing, brushing his thumb against your nipple. His other hand was still teasing you down there, his thumb rubbing ever so sweet, his finger pumping into you ever so soft and slow. "Y/N... You are beautiful in every way... You are just fuckable."

You shivered at his words. You never imagined that he would see you in this way, naked and in his arms. You never imagined him calling you beautiful and saying that you were 'fuckable'. Where did he learn that from? Did he hang out with Johnny, the upperclassman? Hell, you never imagined that you were about to have sex with him. Having sex this early in the relationship was a weird idea for you, but it just felt so....

Right.

"Y/N..." Mark kissed you again, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he grasped your wrists and led them to the front of his jeans. His tongue battled with yours, brushing against the roof of your mouth, your teeth, your own tongue. It was like a battle of dominance.

Your hands at the fly of his jeans, you blinked your eyes in a daze and pulled back slightly. "Mark?"

It was more of a question than a demand or anything. Your voice held uncertainty, confusion, or maybe you were asking permission to just push his jeans off. He gave you a soft smile. "Do it. It's okay, don't worry."

You fumbled with his jeans and freed him, noticing his bulge. Your eyes widened, not believing that he was large and...just large. "Mark, I don't think you'll fit..."

"Trust me baby. It’ll fit." He chuckled as you said those silly words. Mark rubbed your back as one of his hands slid your skirt and panties off until you were just as naked as him. "We'll fit perfectly. Y/N, you and I were made for each other."

You just nodded as he pulled you closer to his body, the kitchen seeming small. You could feel the cool countertops beneath your ass, aware that his body was pressed against yours, his skin so hot, his hair damp from his sweat. "Well, if you say so…"

"Trust me." He muttered before taking your lips in his. "Y/N, baby... help me."

You didn't know what he demanded of you. Chuckling, Mark grabbed one of your small hands and wrapped it around his large, bulging cock. "Put it in, babe."

"Where?" You teased him, lightly squeezing his cock.

He sighed and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. The tip of him was at your entrance, teasingly rubbing up and down your slit. "In your sweet pussy, baby."

You bit your bottom lip. You reveled in the way his cock felt in your hand, your fingers curling around the rigid flesh. You slid the tip of him, just slightly, Mark taking charge instead. He kissed you deeply, to catch your cry as he buried himself to the hilt.

"Fuck!" You cried out into his mouth, your body feeling full. He moved into you, softly at first, letting you get used to the idea of him in you, of his large length. You clung on to him, breasts plastered to his chest, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he continued to move within you.

"Baby, fuck..." He breathlessly moaned out, increasing the motion of his hips as he continued to move in you. He went fast and deep, suddenly taking you hard, the sweat covering your bodies, making him even more turned on. He pumped harder, hitting that one spot you so craved until you cried out in mere pleasure.

"Mark!" You cried out, your climax immense as you were surrounded by intense pleasure. He cried after you, spilling his juices within your small body as you sagged in his arms. You rested your cheek against his chest and lovingly placed a kiss on his shoulder. But upon looking at his face, you suddenly went shy. "Oh god…"

Mark looked at you, a small laugh coming from him. "Do I have to give you a big hickey on your neck that says you're mine?"

"But then everyone will know that we're dating." You whined, giving him an adorable pout. You shook your head, threw your arms around his neck and gave him a deep kiss. "It’s okay. Because I'm yours."

"Can we lay like this for a while?" You asked.

As if it was a cue of some sorts, Xiojun's voice could be heard outside of the front door as he informed Hendery on what had transpired. "They're doing hanky panky in the kitchen."

"How do you know?"

"I opened the door slightly and saw clothes everywhere."

"Should we bust the door open?" You heard Hendery chuckle.

In the heart of the moment, you and Mark scrambled from the kitchen counter, laughing as you both searched for your strewn clothes.

"I love you." Mark muttered as he kissed your forehead, after gathering clothes. "I really, really love you."

"I love you too, Mark." You wrapped your arms around him as lips met with his. "Now show me again why you love me~ But this time in your bed."

[theladyismyshepard]

Stamp of Approval

(The party's most favored memory of your journey)

A little note on Wyll's piece: My original playthrough I invaded the Iron Throne Prison INSTEAD of attending the ceremony that Gorthash invites the party to, so if it doesn't make sense, I'm going off the logic of what I encountered with doing that

Shadowheart –

The growth in relationship between you and Shadowheart was a slow, methodical journey on your part. The curiosity would burn right below your skin, a need to reach out and seek for more. She wasn’t much of an open book, preferring to keep her secrets to heart, and you knew with just the wrong amount of prodding, it would push her further away, an irreparable rift severed between the two of you. It didn’t take much consideration to give her the space she wordlessly demanded, just a lot of willpower.

You ignored Lae’zel’s mocking comments comparing you to a “lovesick pup waiting hand and foot” when you made every effort to appease Shadowheart’s interests. It was always worth it to watch her face light up with inspiration when you took every measure to serve upon the Gods or learn of their works. Shadowheart absorbed the knowledge you ascertained and allowed it to fuel her guidance upon herself and the rest of the party. You try to reason with yourself that you would put in as much effort for everyone as you do for Shadowheart, but you also can’t deny that none of the others can cause a pool of heat to warm your very core with nothing but a polite smile.

She knew how to draw you in, she did so with no effort on her part when you encountered her bound form trapped inside a pod on the nautiloid. You weren’t exactly sure what she found so intriguing in you. You initially considered your unlikely title of “hero”, but you noticed she only had so much patience and approval with your habit of putting literally everyone ahead of yourself (and the cure) before deeming it too self-destructive.

However, it was glaringly obvious she would never disapprove of you taking on the responsibility of caring for the strays that crossed your path. Astarion and Lae’zel had a begrudging resignation for being slowly outnumbered by animal life, whereas Shadowheart and Karlach had an aura of child-like glee about themselves. You would never forget the first morning you had awoken in camp after you had first spotted Scratch circling the dead body of his former master and felt the overwhelming need to accept him as your own. He looked so jolly, as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world so long as you were by his side, and you couldn’t help but to unleash all of your love and affection onto him. Your attention was so absorbed, that you almost missed the small smile gracing Shadowheart’s lips along with the subtle crinkle around her eyes as she watched you. It was a look of raw approval which she smoothed out once she noticed your attention was on her.

As you scouted and looted throughout your travels, you came across a tattered stuffed bear one day. It was an impulsive decision to stop and store it away in your bag, a fleeting thought of Shadowheart was what prompted it. You weren’t aware of every bit of information that she could provide, but you did know that the huge gaps in her memory offered both a blessing and a curse. She wasn’t granted the best of childhoods, and you couldn’t help the thought of a young Shadowheart, alone and without the comfort of even a stuffed companion. The rush of adrenaline that came with the sudden need to give it to her, to watch the happiness brighten every corner of her face had you bouncing on each step back to camp.

You entailed the assistance of a couple members of the party: Karlach and Astarion. The vampire offered a delicate hand that was skilled in the craft of sewing to gently pull the stuffed bear back together. After you carefully handwashed the toy in the river that you camped near, Karlach took her duty very seriously. You couldn’t help the smile as her tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration as she balanced her heat accordingly to dry the toy of excess water without setting it ablaze.

That was some time ago, and as you gazed down at the well-used stuffed bear, you felt a bit foolish for the timing. The party’s mounting problems had a snowball effect, and once one situation ended, another began in its place. You stood outside of Shadowheart’s tent, where you had been for the past few minutes contemplating if you should grant her the space she required when processing things. You had just convinced her to let go of her parents, to end the struggle and curse binding the entire family to Shar. It was like poison coating your tongue, knowing how hard the road was getting to the House of Grief and everything that Shadowheart had given up for that exact moment, but it felt so wrong to go against the desperate pleas of her parents, begging you to end Shar’s torment for them all because they knew their daughter had not the strength for it.

“Did you want something? If not, I’m perfectly happy to just gaze upon you a while.” The greeting caught you off-guard and as you looked upon her false bravado, down to the pain swirling just below the surface, you could feel yourself start to break in guilt. You threw your arms around her, the stuffed bear squashed between your bodies, and apologized thickly.

“It was the right thing to do… even if I can’t bring myself to believe it just yet– oh… what is this?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had anything of comfort when you really needed it back then, so I wanted to make sure you had something now… It was cute, so naturally it reminded me of you,”

There was a newfound softness to her eyes as they darted all across your face, taking in the embarrassed red flare on your cheeks to the subtle sheen of sweat collecting atop your brow. As you attempted to joke and smile off the sentiment, her hands cupped the back of your neck as easily as if she had done so all her life, and pulled you down into a passionate kiss marred only by her building grin.

“I love it… I love you,” You were filled to the brim with warmth every time you looked over during your many months of traveling when it was all said and done and would spot the stuffed bear tucked into her own travel bag, refusing to leave it behind anywhere.

Karlach –

Your romance with Karlach roared to life fairly quickly, but that was to be expected with someone like her. When you’re living on borrowed time, and death was always a step away to collect it back, everything burned brighter, as did the relationship between you two. You could hardly remember a time when you had been led to believe her to be this devil reigning chaos everywhere she went. For she was the most adorable woman you had ever met, and her bubbly personality had you instantly head over heels.

You found Karlach easily inspired as you traveled and explored new areas of Faerun. The look of awe on her face made the whole situation feel as though it were nothing more than an adventure, a quest to ensure Karlach had seen it all and done it all. There was always a bittersweet ache lodged in your chest when you were granted the sight of sparkles in her eyes. Even more so when she thanked you for it… as if you shouldn’t be on your knees thanking her for her very existence.

After Dammon had informed the two of you of the severity of Karlach’s condition, you didn’t even dare approach the topic of her returning to Avernus. It was unthinkable to push her back into her worst nightmare that she fought tooth and nail to crawl her way out of. You pull yourself together because no matter how much it broke your own heart, no one was more cheated here than Karlach herself, and you had to be strong enough to soothe her pain, not the other way around (even though you knew her to be so selfless that she would). You keep her close when you all travel, making sure some part of you is always touching some part of her at all times, and you know she greatly approves of the physical contact when she randomly grins down at you from time to time.

Weeks worth of whispered words and frantic touches had your personal goals shifting. When you had first awoken on the nautiloid, you cared for little else aside from curing yourself of the tadpole taking shelter behind your eye, but as you heard more of Karlach’s life, you grew scornful of Zariel and Gortash. The purest of souls was the grandest treasure to the devil indeed, but Karlach was a Goddess that rose above while you yourself were falling. She didn’t even need to ask if you would help avenge her– that was a given. Your journey had taken you this way and that, pitting you against foe of every kind… You could handle descending into the Hells and waging wars on devils.

Because you already did… summoning the portal in the House of Hope led you directly to Raphael’s home in the Hells, and it revealed so much to you– the Orphic Hammer that aided in your quest to free Orpheus, the poor, demented soul of Hope, who guided you the whole way, and the glaring fact that Karlach felt the most at ease that you’ve ever seen her to be. Her breathing was easier, her movements weren’t jerky or rigid with pain so she wasn’t bouncing around to loosen herself up as she constantly did in the mortal realm. You could almost get used to the sight… almost. You also tried to ignore the fluidity of her being, seeing as you knew it to be short-lived, but as you noticed Karlach’s immediate attachment to Hope, you couldn’t stop the onslaught of design.

You bit your tongue after Raphael fell and after Hope thanked you tremendously with the promise of bringing sanctuary to her former prison. Once the party returned to Baldurs Gate, Karlach’s grunt of pain was immediate as were the flames dancing along her flesh. There was a single bead of sweat dripping down her temple that your eyes followed along with until they snapped to her pained smile. She tried so hard to comfort you despite her own agony, and you were starting to think it was because she didn’t know how to accept comfort enough to let you try and do the same. As you lean forward and carefully kiss the ragged breath from her lungs, you continue to bite your tongue.

You could not bite your tongue when she (in Karlach fashion) offered to take on the Astral Tadpole to gain the full Mind Flayer potential. She reasoned it would be an edge on the battlefield that they couldn’t pass up and went even further as to say that her time was running out anyway… She had not a selfish bone in her body, and that was why you found a selfish backbone for her. Karlach was made up entirely of soul and willpower, and you refused to allow her to give up what absolute little she had left. You would sooner die than let that happen, and while you would agree with anyone claiming your soul was to be damned to the Hells, you happily pushed the weight of the Astral Tadpole in Orpheus’ direction. Karlach was quiet on and off the battlefield following your call, and it was gnawing at you, knowing that it was bothering her.

“Copper for your thoughts, darling?” She can’t help but smile at her own words played back to her, and didn’t protest when you sat down next to her outside her tent.

“I just… It doesn’t make sense to me. My life is pretty much moot at this point, it’s just a matter of when. I could’ve had one last hurrah, yeah? A fighter till the end,”

“At the cost of your soul, Karlach? It was my decision in the end, if anyone is to be plagued with guilt it should be me, but I think you should know that I don’t regret it,”

“But why!” exclaimed Karlach in exasperation, her eyes misting over in a mixture of irritation and sorrow, “I’m dying anyway, soldier, there was no other option than-”

“Than changing your whole being?” You challenge, moving to where you were practically in her lap. “We’ve already sacrificed and fought for so much, Karlach, it’s time you get to rest, baby, and call me selfish, but all I want to do is rid ourselves of this parasite, and find a way to live a happy life with you.”

You could see the calm look on her face and immediately knew she was about to dive into a spiel about her impending death with as little condescension as possible, and you beat her to it, deciding that you no longer would bite your tongue, “Let’s both go back to the House of Hope… return to the sanctuary that Hope was creating out of Raphael’s old mansion, and until a more permanent solution for your engine is found, we’ll be happy because we have each other… right?”

Karlach blinked as her mouth opened and closed a few times, a perfect imitation of a goldfish as she processed what you just proposed. Her brow furrowed before relaxing before furrowing again. She held her pointer finger at the ready for an announcement that died on her lips, her finger drooping. You took mercy on her before looping your arms around her neck and bringing your lips together in a kiss to seal it. Karlach was beginning to lose hope as the days dwindled, you had seen the weight of resignation set heavily upon her shoulders as they began to sag. Now… you felt a newfound strength in resolve building within the muscles twitching beneath your hands, and it excited you. You knew your words had inspired her to live more than the bluest of oceans, the greenest of grasses, the freshest of airs. She wanted a life, no matter where it was, so long as you were at her side.

Minthara –

Your initial response to Minthara was that she was incredibly deluded by the will of this “Absolute”. She seemed so dedicated to this cause, and ready to dominate and bend the will of those who didn’t, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t send a shiver down your spine. She regarded you carefully, eyes trailing up and down your body and you could see your resulting quiver was passed through the connection of the True Soul if the darkening of her eyes were anything to go by. You felt as though you were trekking on ice and you could never properly find your footing when you were around her.

Her eyes followed your movements anytime you wandered around camp, whether it be to make small talk with your other companions or to put your mind at ease. Minthara was bold with her calculations and made no move to hide her intrigue. Any time you would look over and meet her eyes, it was always you who looked away first, your body rigid underneath the weight of her lingering gaze and mind scattered as you attempted to find your place in conversation once more. Astarion merely arches a brow in response, and you didn’t like this… this spell she had cast on you. You liked to think that you were tactful with your solution– by insisting she stay in camp while you and a few of the others scouted the area, covering as much ground as it took for nightfall to cast a dark blanket that you hoped Minthara would be nestled in, falling fast asleep by the time the party arrived back. After a while, you aren’t really surprised anymore when you see her lounged comfortably by the campfire, wine goblet in hand as if awaiting your arrival.

“Ah, the mighty hero returns from yet another quest… I have been awaiting your arrival,” You held a deep-seeded exhaustion, one that seeped down into your very bones, and you found yourself in no mood to either entertain her devious scheming or withstand the glowering disapproval if you found yourselves at a disagreement. “Come, sit before me,” It wasn’t a request so much as it was a demand, and despite yourself, you approached Minthara, standing before her and arching your brow in question. She rolled her eyes so hard you were almost afraid they would fall free from her head before her hand reached out and pulled you down to your knees. Despite your squawking and huffing, she twisted your form until you were sitting facing the fire with her body dangerously close to your back. Your eyes repeatedly glanced down at her legs that were resting on either side of you, surrounding you, and you were so absorbed in your staring that you flinched when you felt her strong fingers begin working at the knots twisting the muscles of your shoulders.

“What’re-”

“Relax…” her voice was sultry in your ear before you felt her hot breath against the back of your neck, “You harbor a lot of weight here… Your back must be incredibly sore from carrying the fate of this world.”

Your eyes flutter closed on their own accord and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, and when you felt her smirk hiding in your hair, you knew you were falling right into a trap of some sort. Her purposeful hands wandered lower as she massaged little circles into her back, forcing you to straighten up, and once you did, her arms surrounded you before pulling you flush against her front. Your head fell back against her shoulder, and your obscured vision robbed you the sight of Minthara’s wicked smile as her eyes hungrily grazed down your body. Her hands recommenced their movements on your hips, and she smiled genuinely when she felt your muscles quivering at her slight touch.

Her hands found purchase in both of your pockets and as your brow furrowed, her teeth were latching onto your shoulder, leaving indentations that were shallow enough to disappear within the next few hours, and she soothed it by flattening her tongue and licking over the bite mark. Her skillful hands worked at the muscles of your thighs through your trousers, and you were soon melting, becoming putty in her palms. Minthara occasionally pressed kisses into your hair and it wasn’t long before your breathing was shallowing out.

“Some of us care little for this display,” drawled Shadowheart from her tent, her face scrunched in a grimace before she returned to her prayer.

“And some of us are enjoying it,” countered Astarion, his eyes flashing wickedly before a glare from Minthara had him raising his hands in a conceding gesture.

“Shall we take this to my tent? Lay you out in a way you might be more comfortable?” The request was hushed, though you two left little to no doubt of your intentions when you scrambled (she strode gracefully) to reach her one bedroll.

Throughout the hours of the night leading to first daylight, the scene shifted from her on top of you to you on top of her and it continued until you found yourself falling fast asleep with her still inside of you. Minthara managed to lull you into a sleep so deep that you didn’t even wake to her digging through the pockets of your discarded trousers before clutching at the jar containing the collection of illithid tadpoles you had discovered along your journey. She considered accepting them all for herself without even a thought spared to you. The unimaginable power, an unrivaled throne atop a whole world ready to serve her.

You mumbled something in your sleep, your eyes never opening yet your arms were out searching and you captured Minthara around her waist before pulling her in and curling around her unbalanced form. One arm was propping her up and the other grasped at your hand around her. She stared unblinkingly at your face for an entire minute as something shifted within her. You had the opportunity to expunge her existence from this plane just as you did with Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, but you spared her. A foolish notion that Minthara herself would never have made if roles were reversed, but as she stared down at your peaceful face, the opportunity to strike glaringly obvious, she found that she wasn’t looking forward to the impending loneliness that was sure to follow your death.

Her goal of power and blood was still at the forefront, but she was picturing enough room that included you as well. And if you had any qualms about taking the Netherbrain’s influence for you two’s personal gain? Well… she had ways of persuading you.

Wyll –

Wyll was a knight in shining armor from your very first impression of him outside of the Grove, ready to lay down his life to defend the innocents trapped within. It didn’t take you long to deduce that he would die happily so long as he played the part of the folk hero. You acted hypocritical anytime you found yourself questioning his heroics and if it all was really worth it. You had your own role in saving the world that was forced upon you, and you understood the call to help when the lost and the damned begged you so brokenly.

Consider yourself surprised when you learned of this angelic man’s pact with a devil named Mizora. There was shame shrouding him after he broke his word to track down Karlach and drive a battle ax straight through the fire she called a heart once he learned that Karlach was a victim herself. His horns were forever a reminder of his dealings with a devil, and while he appeared to hate no one but himself, you felt no traces of regret through your connection. It was a choice he would make every time for Baldurs Gate and his father’s people. Even if that caused the very rift between him and his father.

Wyll was so considerate of a man that he understood the disapproval completely and accepted the banishment with no argument. He took on the persona of the Blade of the Frontiers in hopes of righting his hellish deed tenfold. If he were to die honorably in battle protecting those who couldn’t fight for themselves, then so be it. It wasn’t likely to save his soul in the end, not when it was tethered to a pact in the Hells. Wyll would tell you this to be his biggest fear after you had accepted his beautiful request to dance and you two spun all night long. It was a hollow fact to him, and you swore to yourself in the heat of that night that you would do whatever it took to free Wyll of his pact with Mizora.

As your relationship blossomed, you couldn’t help but to wonder if he dabbled in the ways of the Bard. His words held a melodic tune that sometimes left you entranced by the vibration of it rather than the actual words he was speaking. You would always remember the bashful look he wore one night when he approached you with a piece of parchment trembling the slightest in his hand, his eyes both seeking yours and then averting when he found them. Wyll cleared his throat and after rambling a bit until your fond laughter had him shaking his head, he began to recite poetry that you weren’t familiar with. Your smile softened as he pressed on, but then it slipped away as your mouth parted slightly with a heavy exhale once you realized it was about you.

His words spoke of your devotion, of your wits, of your beauty, and you found yourself melting at the fact that no one had ever written you a poem before, and yet this warlock, who used to be more eloquent when he was crafting spells than he was when he was flirting had found inspiration from you. You inspired a man who inspired so many people with his endless supply of positivity, and you wondered what exactly made you so lucky as to find yourself in an epic romance with Wyll Ravenguard, the man who could hardly be shaken, even while looking into the face of evil and terror.

You felt his jittery need to rush the underwater prison that Gortash had set to blow in search of his imprisoned and infected father. You nodded to Karlach and she was soon dropping from the opening rather than using the grimy ladder. With her warhammer cocked over her shoulder and at the ready, she went to work on clearing out the sahuagin that stood guard. Once she was out of sight, leaving behind a bloody trail, you handed Lae’zel every Arrow of Transposition you purchased and hoped her Misty Step would carry her the rest of the way after ordering her down the east corridor in search of prisoners. Wyll was nearly seething by the time you turned to him and before the command could even leave your mouth, he was already charging, the Dimension Door spell already crackling to life at his fingertips.

Time was ticking and for each enemy that was cut down, about five more appeared from the murky depths. You could hear the slapping of shoes against wet stone as everyone who was released made a frantic dash towards the exit. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back when you heard a woman who was intercepted by one of the monsters. Try as you might, the following ripping sound and resulting gurgle would haunt your dreams to come. It was an incredible gamble to invade the Iron Throne Prison, and once Gortash gave the final call, you knew that it was damn near impossible to save everyone. The sinking reality set in as you passed body after body while retracing your steps back to the exit hatch. Wyll frowned so deeply that it was bringing lines to his forehead. It was going against everything the Blade of the Frontiers stood for, this act of selfish grandeur to ensure his father’s life over all else.

The rotten taste of unfairness bit like acid on the back of Wyll’s tongue, and at this point, he shouldn’t be as shocked as he was to find out that his father wasn’t being held in the prison like he was led to believe by Mizora… Whatever possessed you to take her for her word was beyond you, and you had just about enough with that devil and her trickery. As the submarine filled with what Gondian survivors were remaining departed from the explosion, you couldn’t help but to ponder the comparisons between Mizora and Raphael to determine if you could handle a battle against her.

It seemed fitting that you found the Duke at Gortash’s side in Wyrm’s Rock Fortress during the final showdown with Bane’s Chosen. It was a ruthless fight, and while you tried several tactics to break the influence controlling the Duke, his curse proved unshakable and his strength was consuming you. It was only a matter of time before his sword was destined to cut you down, and as you craned your neck to give Wyll one last exhausted, resigned smile as you made the decision to put the Duke’s life before your own, Wyll found himself charging with a roar that sounded an awful lot like “NO!”

His own blade pierced the final blow that brought the Duke to his knees, blinking away the influence that muddled his mind. He sputtered as he looked from the hilt protruding from his chest to his son, who stood over him with a look of horrific realization. As he began swaying dangerously close to the point of toppling over, Wyll dropped to his side to cradle his father close, mindful of the blade. He sobbed and hiccuped past his rushed apologies, but his father blinked past the pain to acknowledge his son.

“There is more to this world than just gods and devils, my boy, and you are neither. I’m…”

The gargled whisper would remain unfinished forever, and it broke Wyll to pieces as he clutched at his father’s lifeless body. He sobbed even as Karlach delivered the final smiting blow to Gortash’s feeble body, and wasn’t even paying attention when she chopped off his hand for the tribunal to Bhaal. You awkwardly hovered above Wyll, unsure if he would even accept your presence after he killed his own father to save you, but you had a secret trick up your sleeve, one that you had been saving for just the right time, and one that you could only call upon once in your lifetime. Wyll was willing to make a great sacrifice for your life, it was only fair you did the same for his happiness.

“My love,” You whisper gently and only continue when his tear-streaked face looked up at you, “If you’d allow me, I would like to call upon Selune’s Opulent Revival and save your father.”

Wyll’s eyes widened as he felt a surge of hope warm his veins. He glanced between both of your eyes, searching for something that you weren’t entirely sure of before he was rearranging his father’s body. He couldn’t help his whimpered gag as he tore the blade free from his father’s chest to prevent complications. With the Duke lying flat against the ground, you got to your own knees, ready to summon your prayer that would call upon Selune’s power to revive and restore health. Wyll grabbed ahold of your hand before you could rest it against the Duke’s chest. He raised your wrist and pressed the most reverent of kisses to your palm before dropping another to the inside of your wrist. When you caught his eyes again, there was no hiding the adoration he had for you in this very moment.

Once the moment passed, you placed your hand over the still heart within the Duke’s chest, and dared not remove it until your lips paused at the end of your prayer, and there was a fluttering against the same palm that could still feel the press of Wyll’s lips.

[ateez-himari]

ATEEZ'S ROYAL BLOOD

A dive into the members' lineage following their new song about royalty.

August 4, 2024 (5:01PM)

ATEEZ recently released another collaboration with BE:FIRST titled Royal and it encouraged some netizens to conduct research on the lineage of the members, which led to the rather surprising discovery that the lyrics 'Check my Royal blood' were indeed true. While clans no longer hold any hierarchal power in Korea and are slowly fading into nothing more than history, it is still interesting to learn about the impressive gathering of nobility in one singular group.

The group's captain, Hongjoong, hails from the Gwangsan Kim clan which is a royal family as per its members' blood relation to the third son of King Sinmu of Silla, Kim Hung-Gwang. The eldest, Seonghwa, is a member of the Miryang Park family who held the title of royalty as well since they descend from 10th century Prince, Park Eon-Chim, the son of King Gyeongmyeong of Silla. Their stunning visual, Yeosang, belongs to the Jinju Kang clan which is an honorary military family, much like main rapper Mingi, who comes from the Yeosan Song clan, which is one of the oldest Korean clans. The Choi brothers, vocalists San and Jongho, descend from the noble Gyeongju Choi family, whose mottos as well as stanzas focus on being a genuine person and helping others. Two of the group's members, Wooyoung and Yunho, have not yet confirmed their clans.

The most impressive lineage however is their youngest, Himari, who has inherited noble blood from both parents along with direct descent from figures linked to the thrones of both Japan and Korea, which would now offer a different meaning to the nickname Hime (princess) that members often use. The maternal side of her family hails from the Konoe aristocratic family, whose parent house is the Hokke branch of the Fujiwara clan, a powerful family of imperial regents who sat on the throne for twelve consecutive years. Her family tree reportedly includes Konoe Sakiko, the mother to the 108th Emperor of Japan, Emperor Go-Mizunoo, the first to reign entirely during the Edo period.

The paternal side of her family hails from the Yeoheung Min clan who were granted the title of nobility and descends directly from Empress Myeongseong, who was the first Queen of Joseon assassinated by the Japanese since the foundation of the Joseon dynasty in 1392. It was known that she was more active in political affairs than the King himself and was the first Queen to have contact with the West, due to her reported outstanding diplomatic attitude.

The most notable example of people finding this royal link almost intuitively would be fashion designer Donatella Versace, who has mentioned several times that the vocalist seemed to have the grace of a princess, which is what drew her in. It has also been noted by people that she along with San seemed to have kept some of these noble mannerisms and could almost be mistaken as such at first glance.

After being recognized by the man named 'King of K-Pop' by the nation, one could argue that Himari is getting closer to sitting on a golden throne, though not ruling over a nation but an industry.

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[greenqueenhightower]

Hey.

I constantly argue back and forth with TB stans that Jace, Luke and Joffrey aren't legitimised just because Laenor, Corlys and Viserys go along with Rhaenyra’s lie about them being "trueborn". As I'm sure you're aware, in Westeros only a king can legitimise the illegitimate by first declaring their bastardy and then legitimising them afterwards. And TB stans. Just. Don't. Get. It. They also seem to think that the King's word is law in Westeros. They don't understand that this a feudal monarchy where the king and his vassals are reliant upon each other and both must respect the social contract in order for the Westerosi social structures e.g. monarchy to be maintained.

IMO, they fall for the narrative trap of the Targaryen characters. Just because Viserys and Rhaenyra say that the King's word is law doesn't actually make it law. It's only law as long as the king has the ability to enforce it. Therefore, if a king did something insane in the eyes of his noble polity, e.g., try to place his bastards in the line of succession, they'd rebel proving accurately that the King's word is in fact not actually law. Aerys's overthrowing is a great example of this. As is the reign of Daeron II: if his word was law and everyone had to obey him, no one would have joined Daemon Blackfyre's rebellion.

Anyway back to TB stans. I think alot of them don't actually realise how the world works. Even GRRM confirmed the bastardy of Rhaenyra’s 3 son's for goodness sake. Every time they try to deny it using the aforementioned argument it only confuses me. Are they insecure about Rhaenyra having illegitimate children? Is that how far they're para-social relationship with her goes?

They also have another stupid argument that Rhaenyra's kids having her blood means that they can inherit her throne. No no no no no no no no no. THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS TB. If it was Westerosi lords with bastard relatives, it would allow them to inherit. You have to be trueborn. It's unfair but these unfair laws are what keeps Westeros from constant civil war. That's the point of inheritance law in the Seven Kingdoms.

Anyway, sorry about the rant. It's just that sometimes when I argue with certain TB stans they don't seem to understand the laws of the world they're fans of. They will bend over backwards to excuse their faves, not understanding that you are allowed to criticise a character you like (& in their case love). I think Rhaenyra is an interesting character - moreso in the book TBH - I just don't get why so many TB stans willfully refuse to understand the way in which the laws of the world she inhabits work. Any thoughts?

Hi anon, it took me forever to get to your ask but you're right! 💚

Not all TB stans share the same views, and there are people in here with whom you can converse intelligently, but I have also seen the discourse you're referring to, and it is very annoying when the stans don't get it.

You put the Westerosi legitimization process very well. If we consider the greater Middle Ages-inspired world-building context that Westeros is based on, it makes sense why bastardy is a stigmatized social issue. Blood "purity," lineage, and legitimacy are important because they are the only way land and titles are bequeathed and inherited.

The King is the only one who can legitimize his own illegitimate children as heirs, but he can do so for other illegitimate children, regardless of whether these are related to him by blood. King Louis IV, for example, legitimized John II Duke of Brabant's son, Jan Cordeken, after a petition John wrote to him thus enabling him to inherit his father's fortune and found the House of Glymes. From Ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome to Enlightenment Europe, there are examples of Kings legitimizing not only their children but also the children of their officials, courtiers, and friends. It was seen as granting a favor to them, and when it came to personal matters, a King might choose to legitimize his children when he ran out of heirs, or in the case of Louis XIV, because he could and wanted to.

In other words, Viserys, who knew of but chose to ignore Rhaenyra's sons' (his grandsons') bastardy, had ample time and opportunity to legitimize them but chose to blind himself to the truth instead. What was that about Alicent calling Viserys "weak" in one of the deleted scenes of S1? Well, "weak" isn't the only word I would use to describe him... also irresponsible, foolish, and inadequate.

Nevertheless, the legitimization process in history was seldom favored by the court, the King's vassals, and the people, and caused quite a stir. As you say, the King's law didn't hold up that much ground compared to the law of tradition and at times the Church. The people didn't care if a King legitimized a child by naming them heir... the stigma of being born "illegitimate" wasn't washed off that easily, because bastards were seen as devilish, impure, half-breeds, unnatural hybrids, and so forth. So Viserys choosing to ignore the issue face front was bound to be catastrophic, because no matter how he tried to silence the tongues that wagged by threatening to cut them off, the issue of his grandsons' apparent bastardy remained, and THE REALM would not accept any of them on the Iron Throne, for the same reasons.

And Viserys did nothing about it. He could have confronted Rhaenyra when Jace was born and reminded her of the stark reality of the consequences of what she was doing. Not only did he name Rhaenyra (a woman) as his heir, which alone was controversial and unprecedented, but a woman with three illegitimate children, whose existence never even tried to correct or prevent. Viserys alone weakened Rhaenyra's claim with his lack of foresight and counsel.

If TB uphold the "Viserys loved his grandsons and he accepted them as they were" narrative, they are not only deluded but lack media literacy as well, because Viserys DIDN'T CARE if his grandsons were trueborn or not, or if that would plunge the realm to war, the same way he didn't care that he had named Rhaenyra as his successor when the realm, who was so used to having Kings for centuries, knew he had THREE legitimate sons of his own.

So my two cents on the discourse would basically be that those who don't understand the social and political repercussions of Rhaenyra having bastards, not being counseled as to why this is destructive, left on her own to raise them, and having to cope with the consequences of her actions as she realizes that the father she so loved and admired didn't protect or support her at all, are missing out on a much more interesting character in Rhaenyra and a more complex dynamic with her sons, who she now understands are exceptionally vulnerable and potentially threatening to her cause.

This is a far more intriguing reading than anything TB stans are getting at with their "no criticism" ban on Viserys and Rhaenyra.