#why am I resisting calling them finished I think they’re finished????

[s-cullayy]

My top wips are basically done but I’m still like “but I could-“ choking myself Bart Simpson style

[sulatni-flerida11]

flames

inspired by wild life session 5 + some headcanons of the fandom :]

The moment Jimmy hears thunder strike – not from the wild card of the session, but from a fallen player – the joy that fills him quickly turns into something… burning. It doesn’t hurt, (in fact, it’s very pleasant), but he’s surprised about the sudden change. His teammates can’t offer him any advice about it, and he doesn’t dare to ask Grian at the moment as he’s still grieving.

He comes to the next person “best at handling problems” he knows, who also happens to be the one “best at handling fire.”

The sudden concentration of heat outside his not-so-flammable-anymore base made Tango raise a brow. The session is over, and though he can think of reasons to be on the receiving end of arson from this session, he doesn’t know why anyone would bother.

“Tango?” a familiar voice calls out. “Are you here, or?...”

He calls back as he fixes his belongings, “Hey Jimmy.” He hopes his smile is audible. His soft spot for the avian never faded away since they were soulbound, and they’re both sure whatever they’re feeling for each other has nothing to do with that mechanic.

“Could I… Mind giving me advice?”

“Give me a sec, hold on –” Tango finally secured his goodies from the Trivia Bot.

He walks out to greet Jimmy, (though he is also a bit confused as to why the other didn’t just walk in). “What do you need, songbird -”

He stops in his tracks.

Jimmy’s feathers are burning.

“What –” Tango approaches quickly, waving his hands around as an attempt to pat the flames down.

Jimmy laughs. “Tango, that’s unnecessary -”

“It’s unnecessary?” Tango feels himself heat up in anger directed at whoever caused this. “Jimmy, who am I killing next session -”

“You literally can’t do that. You’re green. I’m the one that needs the kill.”

“Then who am I helping you kill next session -”

“Tango!” Jimmy moves to grab Tango’s arms, and the latter moves away quickly.

“I’m running hot right now, Jim. You don’t want to touch me -”

“The flames don’t hurt me anymore.”

That stops Tango. “What?”

Jimmy flaps his wings, showing how the fire on the tips of the feathers continues to burn brightly. Even the few feathers on his face have sparks, and Jimmy isn’t flinching a single bit. Little puffs of smoke come out of it, similar to Tango’s flame of hair (if you can even call that hair).

Moving again, Jimmy finally grabs Tango, who snaps out of his shock the moment physical contact is made. His immediate reaction was to pull away, but Jimmy keeps his grip firm but gentle.

“I… I don’t think I’m quite a canary anymore.”

Slowly, his golden feathers envelope both of them. Tango watches carefully, instincts telling him to run, run, you’ll hurt him, but no signs of pain reveal themselves on Jimmy’s face.

“You’re like… a phoenix now,” Tango whispers in awe. The golden feathers look molten and bright with the fire, warmth seeping into his bones despite already being warmer than usual.

“Seems like it,” Jimmy laughs once more, and void Tango wishes to capture the vision in front of him for life. “I came here to ask how you handle your fire, since you were born with it and all, but…”

He motions between them, the gap closer than ever before without fire resistance potions now they don’t have to be cautious about Tango’s heat.

“... this is nice,” Jimmy finishes with a smile.

“Aww,” Tango groans fondly, “I don’t want to let go of you now. Mind me stealing you from your team?”

Jimmy slaps him lightly on the chest, “Don’t you dare! Unless you want Scar to come here and destroy your base again.”

“Fair.”

The two laugh, enjoying each other’s company and warmth.

[fryingpan1234567]

Can u write some malconnor hcs plz??? ❤️🤭 I'm starved fr :)

Ty love u

ah yes my babies I love them sm

it took me a while to get to this but anon I gotchu babe I love me some malconnor at ALL times

they’re givingggg youngest sibling x youngest sibling

I think Connor has always liked the idea of having a motorcycle, but he didn’t take it seriously until Malcolm mentioned someone at his school got one (and was kinda cute)

Connor was NOT HAVING THAT

(he called Travis like “BUCKLE UP WE’RE COMMITTING GRAND THEFT AUTO TONIGHT”)

can’t remember if I said this already but these two could ABSOLUTELY play Ghostface and get away with it

Malcolm would be their supplier and Connor would know all their escape routes and plans B through Z

maybe I’ve already written an au but that’s a WHOLE other thing

anyways I feel it in my Soul that Malcolm is from SoCal, so you can imagine he’s no stranger to parties, even as an introvert (I like to think he doesn’t like people but he’s really good at them— he’s a social butterfly)

the first time Connor saw Malcolm do a blowjob shot (that is a REAL THING LOOK IT UP BEFORE YOU COME FOR ME IT JUST MEANS SHOOTING WITH NO HANDS) he actually almost passed the fuck out

(I don’t condone underage drinking, kids, make sure you’re of legal age before trying any form of alcoholic beverage)

they’re both energy drink addicts and they’ll get each other’s favorites

Connor’s a Red Bull girlie and Malcolm says Monster is his life support

baking together but it devolves into them throwing handfuls of flour at each other and slipping on the eggs they dropped on the ground

(miraculously, the brownies still got made)

Connor pushing Malcolm’s glasses up onto his forehead so he can kiss him better

aside from the point I feel like……. Connor would play lacrosse

if I were to make THAT an au there’s jersey headcanons and going to games and whatever else that comes with it but that’s a WHOLE other circus

anyways they play Minecraft together

lightsaber fights because they’re both nerds

EVERYTHING is a competition with them

“first one to the lake gets to pick the movie tonight”

“you’re on, Stoll”

“good luck, Pace. you’re gonna need it”

“I hope you’re ready to LOSE”

Connor FaceTiming Malcolm during finals season, melting into a burnt out depressed blob at his desk, only to see Malcolm serenely normal annotating a book in his beanbag chair because he’d already finished studying for the night

“Mal,” Connor begged, “help me. Why am I forgetting quadratics. That was a freshman term.”

Malcolm: “Isn’t that a function?”

Connor: “A WHAT (I can’t do this)”

Malcolm, already putting his book away: “Okay… animal crossing then?”

Connor: *inconsolable sobbing* “I love you”

before the first fight of the Battle of Manhattan, after Percy’s big speech and they realize just how bleak their odds are, I like to think these two found each other in the crowd before it dispersed and just. grabbing each other. and not letting go until they have to.

and we don’t talk about the unspoken relief when they first see each other AFTER that first battle because I don’t think I can emotionally handle that one right now

also you know how often they sleep between fights? I know for a fact Malcolm passed out on Connor’s shoulder after at least one of them

fighting back to back tropes but it’s these two annihilating every battlefield you stick them on together

Connor’s immune system is stacked because traveling = tons of sicknesses so Hermes’ kids are super resistant to that, but poor Malcolm’s immunocompromised ass is always getting sick somehow

and like— whatever can affect Connor at all will do much worse to Malcolm, and they find that out the hard way (having to wake up the Apollo cabin in the middle of the night for emergency help because Connor’s mild cold developed into pneumonia in his poor boyfriend)

on a related note, Malcolm is a major germaphobe but not in the obnoxious way my brother is

eughhh in the first ToP book when Apollo accidentally gives the entire camp hay fever, that was not a good follow up week for Malcolm

Connor, who was mildly congested and that was the worst of his symptoms, took care of him the whole time dw

(I reread the Last Olympian today!!)

[sweethoneyrose83]

William Afton dialogue prompts

Cold and calculating: "They never saw me coming. But they don't need to know. It's always easier when they trust you first."

Creepy and ominous: "These suits have a life of their own. But I… I give them their purpose."

Taunting the player: "You think you can stop me? You’re just a distraction. The real work has already been done."

Relishing in his actions: "It's funny, isn't it? They built these places to entertain, to bring joy. And yet, they’ve brought nothing but misery."

Emotionless confession: "They were just children. So easy to lure, so trusting. Their screams were… insignificant."

Dark humor: "They call me a monster. But monsters are created, not born. I just… helped them along."

Vengeful and remorseless: "You think this is over? I never die. I always come back."

Mocking tone: *"The animatronics? They don't hate me. They *need* me. I am their creator… and their destroyer."*

Quiet threat: "You hear them in the walls, don't you? They're coming for you. But by the time you realize it… it'll be too late."

Final moments: "You can't hide from me. You can't stop me. I'm always one step ahead, always watching."

“Do you hear them? The screams, the laughter… they never leave you. They’re a part of me now, and soon they’ll be a part of you.”

“Children are so trusting, so easy to lead astray. They never suspect a thing, not until it's too late.”

“They call me a monster, but all I did was create something beautiful. The others just couldn’t see it.”

“It's funny how they cling to life, isn't it? But in the end, all of them—all of us—end up the same way: broken.”

“You think you've stopped me? This game is far from over. As long as there’s a spark of life, I’ll be there, waiting in the shadows.”

“I never set out to destroy lives. I simply wanted control—over the machines, over them… and now, over you.”

“Death is a door, one I’ve opened many times. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to guide you through it myself.”

“They think they’ve locked me away, that I’m finished. But there’s always a way back. There’s always another game.”

“Why resist? You can feel it, can't you? The pull of the darkness, the inevitability. Soon, you’ll be just like them.”

“I built them to last. No matter how much they fall apart, they always come back. Just like me.”

Cold and Calculating:

"You think you can stop me? I've already won. They don’t scream anymore. They obey."

Eerie Confession:

"I didn’t just build them. I gave them purpose. My purpose. And soon, you’ll join them."

Remorseless Villainy:

"Do you hear them? Their whispers… their cries. They don’t blame me, not anymore. They belong to me now."

Mocking the Player:

"Oh, you think you've figured it out, haven't you? That’s adorable. But you're still trapped. Just like they were."

Haunting:

"There’s no escaping your fate. I made sure of that. You see, I never truly leave. I always come back."

Deceptive Calm:

"You thought it was over, didn't you? You thought the nightmare would end? Oh, how wrong you were."

Sardonic Regret:

"I didn’t want it to end this way. But sometimes… sacrifices must be made. For the greater good, of course."

Chilling Explanation:

"You see, it's not about survival. It's about control. Control over life… and death. That's the real game."

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground episode 37: Bartleby the Prisoner

I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!

The plot (for want of a better word): Time is up for Bartleby’s cushy life on the thin line. Accused of helping the Resistance, Bartleby is put on trial. Will the Sonic Underground risk everything to save Robotnik’s greatest investor, or will Sonia turn her back on the greatest love of her life?

Dun-dun-DUNNNN.

Aleena is so unimpressed with Bartleby and the other aristocrats. Which. You know. We get it. Eat the rich and all that.

Mind you, Bartleby is chugging boiling tea LIKE A CHAMP. I pity his oesophagus, but a SWATbot barges in and arrests him before he can continue doing serious damage to himself. You immediately know something’s up because the SWATbot talks about a jury. Robotnik doesn’t normally bother with juries. So the audience immediately calls Trap. We’ll see how long it takes the characters to get there.

Meanwhile, Sonia is guiding the boys to a ruby mine Resistance Intelligence insists exists. Manic can’t see it, so he doesn’t think it’s there, but Sonia (very impatiently – apparently this is a repeated conversation) points out that illusions are a thing. She is immediately proven correct, with her calculations only off by a metre or so. Sonic asks us to be impressed with his sister. Brace for an episode of GRRL Power.

Apparently these rubies are very pure and will be very powerful in weapons. I am not certain rubies can be used for weapons, but whatever. The point is, this is an important operation for them to disrupt.

CYRUS! Cyrus gives them a new machine that will be used to dig through things. He also informs us that we’ll be meeting TREVOR this episode, so it’s all recurring OCs on deck!

While Sonia details her three-fold plan, the boys are making chilli dogs with the laser and not paying any attention. Because boys are irresponsible. But first, somehow, Sonia gets a live feed of Bartleby’s trial, and (correctly) assumes that he’s been arrested because of his association with her.

For the record, in the trial, Sleet is the prosecutor, Dingo is the defence attorney, a legion of SWATbots is the jury, and Robotnik is the judge. Archie comics had two legitimate kangaroos in their court and it was still a fairer trial, in case that’s not obvious.

Sonia sneaks off to visit Bartleby in his cell, but Bartleby insists she leave before she’s captured. Sonia insists she’s going to rescue him, but takes the opportunity to guilt trip him for not joining the resistance. Even though SHE only joined because she had no other choice. Just pointing that out. Don’t remember that.

And I know I’ve said it before, but I just want to draw attention to two things. One, Bartleby starts to say “if you’re honestly happier in the resistance –” and it’s pretty obvious this is him being a supportive little idiot. He loves his girl. Two, while Sonic Underground loathes its aristocrats and their willingness to follow Robotnik, I have to remind you of just how SCARED they all are. This episode, and what’s happening to Bartleby in it, is only strange because they’re bothering with a trial, and the series up to this point has made this VERY CLEAR. They DON’T THINK Robotnik can be beaten. They think joining the Resistance is a death sentence. People will do terrible things to survive. This series has no patience for the aristocrats but I love how well they showed why the aristocrats do what they do and arghhh this trashfire is so good sometimes!

Meanwhile, Robotnik admits to the audience that this is all a trap to get Sonia, and with her, her brothers. No one is surprised.

And at the 11 minute mark, Dingo runs his mouth to Bartleby about this being a trap. Bartleby is naturally horrified, but quickly decides he needs to find a way to save Sonia. He changes his plea to guilty so she has no reason to rescue him and get trapped.

BUT. While the triplets and Trevor are on their mission, Sonic has been watching Bartleby’s trial, and so hears the change in plea. Sonia is naturally horrified when he tells her.

But they have a mission, and it’s going badly. They’re basically surrounded, they lose one of their ships and nearly Trevor, and it’s all looking pretty dire, but egh. It works out after some drama, when they find the ruby stash.

Sonia attaches one of the rubies to her keyboard gun and uses it to destroy everything else. Day saved, Sonia immediately steals the digging machine and disappears to save Bartleby. Sonic is unimpressed with her walking into a trap and grabs Manic to run after her.

But, y’know, Sonic’s a bit faster than the machine, so they get there first and are very annoyed to realise that means they don’t get to pretend they’re only there to save Sonia. I admit I snickered at the delivery of “oh great! Now WE have to rescue Bartleby.”

Manic is remarkably useful in this fight, actually sneaking up to hack and disable some SWATbots! Sonia then appears, with her ruby-powered gun, and the triplets come together for

The Song: Justice Calling. Really, really nice drums. I mean, just… NICE beat. Like it a lot. The lyrics are “We’re not gonna take it” with the serial numbers filed off, but there is nothing wrong with that. This is some 80s rebellion pop-rock and I am not complaining.

They save Bartleby, but it’s all proven pointless because in the evening, Robotnik makes an announcement that ‘evidence’ came to light that Bartleby was innocent and always was. So, you know, the status quo is maintained if this episode is shown ahead of the others. BUT the episode itself basically implies that Bartleby IS leaving his aristocrat life to go into hiding. And I don’t think we’re going to see him again. LeDiz is sad about this.

And then we have a Casablanca reference, complete with ‘here’s looking at you, kid’, and it’s very strange.

But we end on Sonic and Manic telling Sonia she’s the best freedom fighter, and I just… nod and accept.

So. The counters:

Sonic implying less than 100% American heterosexuality: 7

Sonia in love with Bartleby: 7/37

Sonia in love with someone who is not Bartleby: 3/37

Sonia’s got super strength: 4

Manic’s thieving Is A Problem: 6

I do believe that's the last time they're going to be added to, but we have another three episodes to prove me wrong! I'll talk about why I've been counting at the end.

I… will also hold off on reflecting on Bartleby and Sonia, but I have to say, rewatching this as an adult, I have a lot more time for him and am a much bigger shipper than I used to be. I’ve always preferred them as a couple over any of her other potentials (as a kid, I would have said Raphie was a love interest but I just didn’t see it this time), but I have a lot of time for THIS star-crossed lovers trope. Which is funny, because I don’t think Sonia DOES. But that ISN’T getting in the way of my ship, and… hm. HMM.

Anyway, moving on.

[drowning-in-cacophony]

Gilded

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt 207: Can We Kiss?

Summary: when cursed like Midas, Jana calls an old love for help

Just when the silence is stretching on too long, it breaks with clipped, quiet words, fingers lacing over one knee tight enough to break knuckles. “Can we- What if I kissed you?”

She blinks, a too quick half-aborted motion, because even the flicker of her eyelashes makes the gold crack over her cheeks. She keeps her hands firmly in her lap, cradled into the bend of her skirt, already turned to that shimmering, impossible gold. It’ll probably be worth tons. Moveable gold in fabric form, the dreams of alchemists everywhere and maybe she’d be more impressed if it wasn’t a consequence of her setting her hands down just to think.

“Why would you kiss me?” She says, lips crackling like she’s got paint stroked over the skin. It breaks into the cracks, exposes more gold anyway. Mari shrugs, a bunched up tight motion. In fact, that’s everything about her posture, from the moment she walked in here and stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, noting the gold spread over one wall, on the couch, on skin. It’s on the mirror too, because apparently looking at her own reflection was enough to trigger the splintering burnished yellow, and isn’t that a shame. She’d liked that mirror. So had Mari, once.

“You said it was like a curse.”

“A booby trap, technically.” And she just couldn’t resist picking up that spell book, could she? A spell book that remains locked shut with spindles of unbreakable gold, tossed across the room to stop the gold from her fingers from coating it in a complete casing, and with it any solution.

Mari fixes her with irritated eyes, and yes. This was part of the reason they’d stopped talking, stopped acknowledging each other at all. It’s like they can’t help it, winding the other up. She overcorrects. Mari argues pedantically back. A wheel, going round and round until they’re both miserable and fighting.

Still. She’d be lying if she said those irritated eyes didn’t evoke some sort of fondness inside her. Mari might be a living nightmare sometimes, with her recklessness and her certain belief that nothing can truly kill her, but there’d been that spark, that core fire of her that’d attracted Jana’s interest, made her someone special. Something treasured. Always treasured, even if they’re never meant to talk to each other again.

But here Mari is in her solar, just because Jana had left a message for some assistance at Mari’s family’s phone. Unasked and unavoidably here.

“Curses usually have one big weakness.” Mari, the resident curse expert. Jana will swear until her dying breath – one that might come sooner than expected depending on how this gold progresses, she’s not too sure if it’ll turn her to a statue or keep her as a living breathing person who just destroys everything and one else instead. She knows what she’d choose, if she set the curse, and it’s hardly reassuring - that she didn't mean for Mari to come when she left the message.

“It’s part of their deal with the fabric of the world. True love’s kiss.” Mari, to her credit, doesn’t even flinch when she says the words. She stares straight at Jana, no hesitation, no doubts about what she’s offering. Jana’s shaking her head before she’s even finished.

“No.”

“No, I’m wrong about curses?” One of their other problems, Mari’s ego, hits. Jana’s fingers twitch; she clamps them down as the gold spiders out some more.

“No, you can’t kiss me.”

“I think I can.” Too well measured, a tone that Jana will fight a losing battle against and try regardless. “It’s part of the deal. Not even the best enchanter can fight that and you know it.”

“I am turning everything I touch to gold. I am not risking-” Jana cuts herself off, or the word does, you laden with too much sticking to her throat. Like the gold, impossibly corrupting, spreading out like a virus, she feels it bleeding through her skin. She shakes her head vigorously, and if her hands weren’t gilded, her knuckles would be white with tension. “I’m not risking it. They’ll be another option.”

“I don’t think there will be. This curse was made for a reason: to stop people from touching that book, which we already know belonged to a very powerful enchanter. It’s going to be impossible to break, if one excludes the rarest thing possible.”

“You want to risk your life on the chance-”

“It’s not chance.” Cold, cutting and aching, Mari’s words like guts on the floor. Jana’s eyes leap up, wide and surprised; despite the revealing nature of her words, Mari’s staring back at her with no shade of embarrassment. Just deadly seriousness.

“It’s not chance, Jana,” she repeats after a moment. “And I’m willing to.”

“You’re being reckless.”

“I’m saving your life. You know, you, the one who protects this whole city from falling into sub-space?” She snorts. “Even if there was a major risk, life for life: you’re telling me mine matters more than all of the city? That it’s not worth trying just in case, for one person?”

You’re not just one person. And isn’t that always going to be the problem. Mari and Jana are clashing opposites, and their attempts to be something more ended in literal wildfire and a hundred different arguments since. With their duties, both know their risks, and both know that this is the best option to try. The enchantment won’t have a weakness: Jana would have found it if there was one, would have never needed to phone.

Yet Jana’s heart aches whenever she sees Mari, even just thinks of her, and the thought of risking-

She can’t.

But, as usually is, there’s rarely a choice once Mari’s got an idea certain in her head. True love’s kiss, one of the rarest things in the world, but they both know Mari’s right. That’s what they are. That’s what they’ll always be.

Gold crackles over her lips.

“Can we kiss now?” Mari asks, eyes laser focused.

Jana stares hard at her, as if to memorise her.

Then she nods.

[sapphictuesdays]

My Personal Bible

Learn who Alexa Chung is, and invest everything you can into her while you still can.

Moisturize. I’m a big believer in Vaseline, 70 SPF sunscreen, and Nivea Creme.

Lipstick is a vastly underrated asset. It’s all you need for makeup honestly. It will always make you look more put-together. Trust me.

I prefer Revlon, it’s not cruelty-free, I have no excuse for this, but it’s inexpensive, doesn’t smudge horribly, and has the world’s-best pigment. Forgive me, father.

Have a signature piece of jewelry. Something you never take off that goes with every outfit. I’ve been wearing the same ring since 5th grade. It’s never failed me.

For writers: write every day. I make sure to, even if it’s just a journal entry. You don’t even have to finish it. It doesn’t have to be beautiful or profound. Just have fun, let those emotions and those ideas come to fruition.

Keep a journal. Write in it every day. None of you will do this. I’ve been journaling consistently for over 2 years straight, the best decision I’ve ever made.

Oranges are the most artistic fruit. They’re the most poetic, and arguably the most common yet exclusive, as they aren’t at their best for very long. There’s a reason there’s so much art about oranges, they are, inherently, an infinite inanimate muse.

I despise the wrong shoe theory, I think I’m far too in love with a classic silhouette.

Try to have at least one main character, coming-of-age moment every day, it makes life feel like it’s worth living.

I know it’s cliche, but don’t follow trends that you don’t like. Develop a personal style, you’ll feel much more comfortable. Personally, I wear a lot of skirts, I always love a plaid or argyle print, and I seldom wear sneakers.

I should probably branch out more with colors, I almost solely wear black, white, red, white, blue, and occasionally, pink. But then again. Personal style.

Put bows on furniture, do not resist the urge to be girly.

The thing I struggle with most while writing is turning aesthetics into depth. I’ve always been the most interested in the mundane. In plotlessness, in simplicity, and close observation. Yet, I yearn for the dramatics, it’s a shame I wasn’t old enough to work on Gossip Girl when it was airing, I'm the perfect candidate.

Heart-shaped is the best type of sunglasses.

Embarrassment is a mindset, my embarrassment complex has never been properly intact, life is far more fun when you barely care what other people think.

Sleep with socks on, don’t resist it. Stop judging people for doing so. We are living far superiorly, have fun waking up and touching the freezing floor.

Life can suck, that’s why God made pasta.

You are never too old for chicken nuggets. Never.

Be cautious when living life “for the plot”.

I literally do not trust people who actually floss every. Single. Day.

Do not call your ex and tell them you love them. Please.

Every single person on this planet should listen to Jeff Buckley’s Lover, You Should’ve Come Over at least once.

The same sentiment goes for Arctic Monkeys AM album.

Christmas is the best genre of music.

Observe the beauty of life. Notice things, people, and their habits, and turn to them when you feel an impenetrable sadness about the world.

If you are warned against someone, believe it, they are not different, and you cannot change them.

Alex Turner is the best man ever invented. It’s no competition, the rest of you can go home.

[rafor]

Chapter 39 - King - The Glitch

She gasped at the sight of my wings. “Oh no! What happened to them?”

I shrugged, trying to act casual. “They’re fine. Just a little different.”

“Different? They’re stunning!” She ran her fingers over the dark feathers, which sparkled with hints of purple and blue. “They look like the night sky. And these spots... are they freckles?”

I chuckled. “I guess so. I don’t know why they appeared. Maybe it’s a side effect of the magic.”

“I don’t care. They’re still soft and beautiful.” She wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my wings. I felt a surge of warmth in my chest.

We were in the throne room, but it felt more like our own private sanctuary. She had dismissed most of her servants, keeping only a few loyal ones for essential tasks. She rarely received visitors, and when she did, she made sure they didn’t stay long. She wanted to spend as much time with me as possible, and I felt the same way.

She often talked to me about her kingdom, her plans, and her dreams. She taught me how to be a good leader, how to inspire respect and loyalty, and how to make wise decisions. She was preparing me to be her king someday.

We also talked about the prophecy, the one that said I was destined to save the world from a great evil.

“Freya,” I asked her one day, “what if they come for me? What if they find out where I am and try to take me back? I don’t think I can live without you.”

She smiled and kissed my cheek. “Don’t worry, my love. They won’t even recognize you. You’re not the same one they knew. You’re a dragon now. A powerful and magnificent one. And you have a new name, remember?”

She had suggested that I change my name to make it harder for anyone to track me down. She had offered many options, all related to darkness or night, to match my appearance. I had resisted at first, but then I agreed to compromise.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll keep my name.”

She pouted. “Come on, Raphael is such a boring name. What about Ater? It means black in an ancient language.”

I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

She tried again. “What about Nox? It means night or something, as far as I know, like your wings.”

I sighed. “It’s better, but I still like Raphael.”

She didn’t give up. She kept throwing names at me, hoping one would stick. “Tenebris? Nocturnus? Umbra? Erebus?”

I interrupted her before she could go on. “Okay, okay, how about this? Nox Raphael. That sounds good, right?”

She clapped her hands and hugged me. “Yes! That’s perfect! Nox Raphael, the night dragon! I love it!”

I smiled and kissed her forehead. “You’re still calling me Raphael, though.”

She giggled. “It will take some time to get used to it. But come on, let’s finish these papers.”

She had already signed the official documents that declared me her consort and mate to the throne. It was a simple process when you had the queen’s authority and approval. My new name was Nox Raphael, but everyone just called me Nox for short. It was a fitting name for me since I looked like a creature of the night.

I met some of the high-ranking officials and nobles in the city, and they all welcomed me with respect and admiration. They accepted me as their future king, even though I wasn’t a wind dragon like them. They trusted Freya’s judgment and saw the potential in me. The general was especially impressed by my skills and abilities in combat and magic. He offered to train me and teach me more about the dragon's culture and the history of the kingdom, but he didn't know that the queen had already moved on with that.

I felt happy and honored by their acceptance and support. And on the day that we announced our engagement to the public, everyone cheered for us.

I had assumed the mantle of King Nox, but we faced a dilemma. How could we inform our allies of this new second leader when we had no means of reaching the Kingdom of Aura? That was until a visitor arrived from there, one who was not an official messenger but someone I knew well. He had defied the Guardians’ orders and left Aura’s side to come here, as he declared. It was Leo, and I was overjoyed to see him again.

He asked to see the queen right away, unaware of my presence. I did not reveal myself, and he did not recognize me in my new form. I could continue to play my role as King Nox without fear of exposure. I stood beside the queen as he spoke, his voice anxious and urgent. He asked us if we had any news of Sol and Cyrus, two of the Guardians. We shook our heads sadly, telling him we had not seen them. He looked crestfallen and defeated. Then he said, “What about a guy who is not a dragon but goes by the name of Raphael? Your messenger told us about a creature that resembled him.” He was referring to me. Freya caught my eye and gave me a subtle warning not to disclose myself. I felt a pang of sorrow seeing Leo so distraught and fearful. I said, “We are sorry, but the creature we notified you about has long departed. We tried to stop him, but we failed.” Leo could barely contain his emotions. He was on the verge of breaking down in tears, but before he did, I asked him, “How are things at the city? Why did you mention the Guardians Sol and Cyrus?” He took a deep breath and said, “They were sent here. They were supposed to arrive, but they vanished.” I whispered softly, so that only the queen could hear me, “And so did our messenger.” I asked again, “What about the city, then?” He hesitated, afraid to tell us the truth. But then he said, “It’s fine, but all the Guardians have left. Akira and the pawns too. Only Aura remains there. And she is about to leave as well, in search of Raphael.” He had just divulged a crucial piece of information to another king he barely knew. What if I were a shadow dragon who had deceived the queen and become king? Of course I was not, but Leo’s words betrayed his desperation and fear.

I retorted, “That seems unlike the actions of someone as sagacious as Aura.” He gazed at me, then inquired, “Your majesty, how are you acquainted with Aura?” I remained silent, so Freya spoke on my behalf: “I divulged her existence to him. He owes his knowledge to me.” He expressed his gratitude, saying, “Thank you for your disclosure, Queen Freya.” He lapsed into quietude, then I turned to Freya and asked, “Should we interrogate him further?” She shook her head and said, “I have no queries for him.” I pondered for a moment before broaching another topic. I asked Freya, “What about the anomaly of the messages not being delivered directly as before?”

At the mention of that, she swiftly addressed Leo: “Prince Leo, do you possess any intelligence regarding the messages from Aura Aetherius being intercepted by someone else?” He hastily rummaged through his little bag and produced a letter. He handed it to us, saying, “This is for you. It is from Aura. I regret to say that I am unable to answer your question, your majesty.” He attempted to utter my name but hesitated, so I said, “You may call me Nox, Leo.” He responded, “It is an honor to meet you, Nox.” He looked more dejected than ever. We were about to dismiss him when he uttered, “One last thing, may I implore your protection?” Me and Freya exchanged glances, then she said, “Are you seeking political asylum?” He affirmed, “Yes, please.” I challenged, “Why should we grant you that? From whom are you fleeing?” He was terrified and explained, “Aura advised me to do so. I do not know her reasons. Please peruse the letter.”

The letter was now in Freya’s possession. She examined it and passed it to me, saying, “I think you should peruse it first.” I opened it cautiously and began reading. It was a letter from Aura, written on a distinctive piece of paper and bearing her signature, that I recognized. It contained information about the changes in the city. It reported the disappearance of the guardians, hypothesizing that they departed in pursuit of the others who vanished and also this Raphael. I felt a surge of importance. It mentioned welcoming Leo into the city and reuniting him with others of his kind. There was also a second request in it, urging us to assist in the investigation by dispatching our patrols in search of the missing guardians and the man who claimed to be a human. After reading it, I handed it to Freya, telling her that she had to peruse it too. During all this time, Leo was still waiting anxiously for an answer to his plea for asylum. I was truly selfish. I was creating more problems than solutions for whatever they feared, and I still wasn’t certain about who they were since I only encountered him, the dark lord, once in a nightmare.

Freya read the message and nodded. “We accept your request to join the city. Ferox will instruct you about our rules.” She turned to one of her servants and ordered him to fetch Ferox. Leo bowed his head and said, “Thank you, Queen Freya and Nox.” He looked exhausted and tearful. Nothing like a wyvern. His head hung low, and his wings drooped to the ground in a gesture of respect. He followed every rule obediently.

We waited until the servant returned with Ferox, then we relayed the order to them. They escorted Leo out of the room, leaving us alone. Freya looked at me curiously. “Did you know him? You spoke to him as if you did.” I nodded. “Yes, I know him. He was the one who taught me about this world when I first arrived. He even showed me a map. That’s why I asked you for one a long time ago.” She raised her scaly eyebrows. “Oh, I see. It’s fortunate that he didn’t recognize you.” I sighed. “Yeah, he didn’t. But I feel so sorry for him now. And did you read the message? The city has changed a lot since I left.” She nodded again. “I see, this city has changed too.”

I tilted my head. “What has changed?” She paused and said, “You came and solved our problem with the health crystals. Do you remember why we had that problem?” She waited for my answer, but I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t know.” She explained, “We are at war with a group of wind dragons who left the city days before you arrived. They were unhappy with my decision to let the wyverns move freely in the whole city, and now they are trying to carve out their own territory in our lands.” I frowned. “So you are fighting them.” She shrugged. “Sort of. We are capturing and imprisoning them. We have to maintain order and authority here.” I wondered if I should praise or criticize her actions, but then I said, “You did well. If they can’t respect someone’s freedom, then they don’t deserve it.” She smiled and said, “Thank you. It seems we share the same ideals.” I agreed. “Of course, and that’s wonderful, isn’t it?” She leaned closer and said, “It is. And I love it.” I replied, “I know, little sweetie.”

That’s why Solara was always guarding us when we were outside. She was protecting the queen from the rebels and probably hunting them down too.

We encountered her again that night. Under the starry sky, we soared together in a romantic flight, and I marveled at the sight of my wings. They glowed with a soft light from the glittery dots that had appeared after my encounter with the dark crystal. It was a stunning spectacle, and the weather was perfect. Summer was approaching, and the chill in the air had faded. We could fly and linger outside without worrying about freezing and losing our mobility. Well, she could, at least. I couldn’t. I had wondered why she had fallen asleep so easily that day when she confessed her feelings to me, but then I learned that one of the factors was the cold. That day, I stayed awake longer until fatigue overtook me because my body functioned differently. Even though I resembled a dragon, I could control my body temperature. I was not cold-blooded. I was unique.

We were not alone on our flight. Solara, the giant fire eagle, accompanied us, and we also befriended a small, silent bird with white feathers. It seemed drawn to Solara, who accepted its presence. The little owl struggled to keep up with our pace, but we did not want to abandon such a friendly creature. Solara helped it by letting it perch on her head like a fluffy hat, and it clung to her without hurting her with its talons.

That day, I asked Solara, “How did you and Freya meet for the first time?” Solara gave me a look that suggested she was unsure whether to answer or leave it to Freya. Freya spoke up and said, “I found her when she was just a hatchling. She was near the kingdom, alone and forsaken. I couldn’t bear to leave her there.” Solara nodded and said, “She’s right. She took care of me until I grew up, and now I’ve returned to my roots.” I asked, “So you prefer living in the wild rather than in the city?” She explained, “I can’t really live in the city. I would attract too much attention, and I’m regarded as a sacred creature rather than a normal being. Besides, no one can really harm me here, so I live here. This is my home.” I said, “That sounds both wonderful and sad. I’m sorry you can’t live a normal life.” She replied, “What do you mean? Isn’t this a normal life? Come on, it’s awesome. I’m free.” She was wild but kind, courteous enough to someone she did not consider an enemy. I no longer feared her. Instead, I felt safe with her and Freya.

We reached the far end of the valley, where we beheld a distant sight of the kingdom. A few torches flickered in the dark, and the night sky was a tapestry of stars. It was a breathtaking and romantic scene, but I couldn’t resist turning it into an opportunity for some honest confessions. I looked at Freya and asked, “What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me asking?” She shifted uneasily and tried to evade the question. “I’d rather not talk about that.” I didn’t want to spoil the mood, but she had posed the same query to me earlier. “What about yours? Will I ever get to meet them?” I shook my head sadly. “No, we’re worlds apart. I doubt I’ll ever see them again. I hope they’re doing well.” She pressed on, “I hope they’re still alive then.” I sighed, “I hope so too. And that they’ve moved on after losing their son. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for them.” She nodded sympathetically, then asked, “I never asked you, how did you end up in this world?” I tried to explain, “I’m pretty sure I died. After that, I don’t know how I got here.” She gasped, “Oh, I’m so sorry. But you don’t look dead to me.” She said that because I had stopped and was lost in my thoughts. I felt a pang of grief for my parents, but Freya tried to comfort me. She wasn’t done with her questions, though. “Do you remember how you died?” I replied, “Yes, but I’d rather not talk about it.” She persisted, saying, "Oh, come on, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.” I glanced at Solara, who was flying beside us. “If I tell you, you have to keep it a secret too.” Solara promised, “You have my word. I won’t say anything.” I relented, “Fine, sit down and listen. I’ll try to make it brief. I was in the military with a platoon in a city during the war of the federations. We were scouting the area for any remnants of the enemy army until we came across a bridge. There, we saw that they had troops on the other side, so we took cover and reported it via radio. I’ll explain what that is later. Unfortunately for us, they spotted us too and launched an artillery attack. But that didn’t do much damage. We were a small group, and we moved quickly to another location. After that, things got worse. They started surrounding the city to capture it. Using our drones. Another thing I’ll explain later. We realized that we had only one escape route left. We ran for it, but they were already on our heels. I decided to play the hero. What a foolish move. And let my platoon go ahead without me. I had the highest rank among them. If anyone had to be brave, it was me. I thought they would make it out safely, but instead, the enemy started retreating. We didn’t know why until it was too late. They had fired thermobaric artillery over the city and us. There was no way to avoid it. We were obliterated.” She was speechless for a moment, then she said softly, “And here I thought I was the sick one. That’s unbelievable.” I said bitterly, “Unbelievable? No, it’s not. Like all wars.” I tried to steer the conversation back to her parents since I had done my part, but she asked me to explain all those new tools she had heard about, so I attempted to make her understand with examples she could relate to, but it was not easy and it took a lot of time and effort until I forgot about my questions for her, and when we finished talking about me, we returned to the palace while our giant eagle was still frolicking with the small cute owl on our way back. Despite everything else, telling my story lifted a burden from my conscience.

[petalsbleedingbeak2]

See when I learned the whole “no nation would accept refugee Jews en mass” thing I figured that was WHY Jews wanted to carve a space where no one could kick them out or kill them. When I learned about the “repeated expulsions from every European country going back hundreds of years” I understood it even more. You can maybe understand why Jews don’t trust a one-state Palestinian solution when the cry is “Israelis should self deport” or “gas the Jews” or “there’s no such thing as an Israeli civilian” or “theres Israeli civilians but they deserve death”. I don’t think it counts as projecting when Hamas’s charter for 30 years of its 35 year existence has been “exterminate all Jews from the region”. The threat to Israeli civilians is not a hypothetical one, it’s one being enacted on purpose by a group that *claims* to represent Palestine

NONE of this is to say that Israel is innocent or justified, but when people say “you can criticize Israel and support Palestine without being antisemitic” like. They’re right, it’s possible, I just wish I saw it more.

Too many people say Israel shouldn’t have been founded, and when they don’t know that no country would take enough of us that were fleeing, I chalk it up to bad education. When I see people say it who KNOW we had nowhere to go and were NOT safe in Europe (see: post WWII massacres/pogroms in many countries - history doesn’t take long to repeat itself and they knew it), all I see is that they would find it more convenient if Hitler had finished the job.

I’ll end this by saying that when I have this conversation with Israelis, I stress the Palestinian side more. I just want to set context that I’m not stressing that side with you because I largely already agree with a lot of what you’re saying. We have a lot in common and in arguments like this it’s too easy to let “we disagree on a few topics (even if they’re very important)” turn into “we are on opposite sides”. It’s almost 3 where I am so I’ll wrap up instead of letting myself obsess over details and phrasing. I’m just some jackass on the internet with no real power over your life, but I am hoping this angle may tint your perspective. Either way, I am hoping the best for you.

Your concerns are legitimate and I understand them, though there are some issues.

I would take the 'Jews wanted to carve a space where noone would kick them out or kill then' argument, haven't it been for a couple of occurencws, namely

- forced displacement of Ashkenazi and other non-Palestinian diasporas to Palestine by the West, effectivelly turning "Israel" into a ghetto based on the ideological grounds of the Holocaust,

- constant attacks and ongoing ethnic cleansing of the Indigenous Palestinians by "Israeli" occupation forces. IOF commit the same atrocities that were carried out on Jews during the Holocaust against Indigenous Palestinians since the Nakba.

Again, Hamas. I call bullshit. Hamas does't speak for the Palestinians, just like IRA doesn't speak for the Irish, Al Quaida doesn't speak for Iraquis, ISIS doesn't speak for muslims. Moreso, Palestinians themselves denounce Hamas. Hamas, for the record, was born as a resistence fraction AFTER IOF occupation of Pakestine. Yet its actions still don't speak for the Palestinians. Neither does Hezballah, or PLFP, or any resistance group. You just cry wolf. Hamas is the IOF creation and zionists are the only ones to blame for it's existence to begin with. Hadn't zionist fascists terrorize Palestine, there would be no Hamas in the first place.

There is no such thing as "Israeli civillians" since "Israel" is not a legitimate state. On top of that, military service is mandatory for IOF by the law, so they are never civillians. They are off duty backup, if you will. IOF doesn't have civillians.

"No country would take enough", again, this is literally what was used as justification for the Holocaust. The entire existence of IOF is ideologically grounded in the Holocaust. Nevertheless, you are purposefully rwisting the facts. No one said there should be no Jews in Palestine. Jews have been in Palestine since forever and have been peacefully living side by side with the Palestinians. The problems started when "Israeli" occupation government started to limit the rights of the Indigenous people and creating this occupational of hierarchy. As always, zionists lie to twist the narrative. You know you are making up shit that utterly misses the point and you're doing it with the purpose of diverging attention from the point into the field of emotions when you can be a crybaby and muddy the waters around the facts. I ain't buying that.

Honestly, I ain't reading any further. You've proven enough that you're an antisemite who ignores Jewish history and want to turn Jews into this genocidal terrorist group.

Long story short,

[footballffbarbiex]

Faking.

pairing: Charles x undescribed female reader Words: 2713 warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f), edging, hair pulling, mad Charles. Probably more but I can’t think straight right now. 

Unbeta’d as usual, so all typos are my own bullshit. Idk why the font is being a dick, apologies. 

_

You chew nervously on your fingernails as you allow your words to sink in. It’s a habit that you’ve never really snapped out of growing up and though you know that you can’t tear them off as they’re acrylic, it’s comforting none the less right now. It doesn’t stop the disapproving expression appearing on her face - though whether that’s from the nail biting attempt or what you’ve just confessed, you don’t know.

“You faked it?” Maddie responds slowly to make sure she understands. You nod. 

“Yes,” You say in a low voice. 

“Does Charles know?” She asks as you pull a face at her that silently suggests she’s an idiot. 

“Of course not. Do you think I’d still be sitting here if he knew I had?” You nervously laugh at her comment. “No. It would hurt his ego too much for sure. You continue to attempt to pick at your nails as you lapse into silence. 

“Are you going to tell him?” She asks as she reaches for her coffee cup.

“And tell him what exactly?” You ask her, voice dropping even lower than before. “Oh hey Charles. You know how we had some amazing sex last night? Well guess what? It was all a lie. I faked it. I never came and I just made you think that I had when you went down on me.” You finish on a sarcastic note and resist the urge to sit back in the chair with a childish huff. “Yeah, that’ll really make him feel happy. He’ll be furious.” 

The thought alone, of his angry face and the way he’d hold himself knowing he couldn’t pleasure his girlfriend would be too much. He wouldn’t take it lightly. It makes you wish you had something stronger than just coffee in this mug.

“Do you really think he will take this to heart?” Maddie asks slowly. 

“Any man would be offended at the best of times. Charles does not take this kind of thing lightly, it would have a huge impact on him. Not to mention make him wonder if it’s happened before.”

“And have you?”

“Of course not, that’s why I’m so ashamed of it.”

“Then why did you?  

“I just…wasn’t there mentally. The sex was good. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good. But have you just been so distanced from what is happening that it wasn’t enough to get you there? I could feel it felt amazing but my mind just wouldn’t let me focus on it, and not in the usual mind blowing way. And he was trying so hard, but when I didn’t…you know, I just….faked it instead to save his jaw and fingers from aching.”

“Well, you need to decide if you want to keep it to yourself and get over it or tell him and hope it goes well.” Maddie takes a drink and you know she’s right. 

_

Freshly showered and shaved, you can’t help but lay on the couch later that night and stroke your fingers over the smooth skin. Snuggling down only makes your legs rub together and you smile to yourself at the visual you’re creating, something Maddie would call “acting like a cricket”.

“What are you smiling at?” Charles asks as he enters the room. 

“Just my smoothy smooth legs. Wanna feel?” You extend your leg as an offer. He grins at you as he makes his way over, his hand outstretched ready to feel. 

“Very smooth. Does it stop here?” He asks, his fingers dancing over the skin at the top of your thigh.

“Nope,” You smirk at him as his fingers dip under your shorts and play with the edging of your panties. “Someone is in a good mood.” 

“Of course I am. We had very good sex last night, I’ve had a good training session today and a relaxing evening so far with you. I’m hoping to continue that evening but with a little added spice.” You feel a pang of guilt as he speaks so happily about last night. 

  “Oh really?” You try to keep your voice light and friendly. Keep the panic from it even though it builds throughout you and leaves a telltale taste upon your tongue. “And how do you plan on doing that?” You ask him. He smiles to himself as he slowly kneels before you. His knees give a little click as he rests his weight upon them. “Are you OK old man? Your knees are worse than mine and I’m on mine more than you are,” you tease. 

“This old man is going to please you in ways no young man can.” He playfully bites at your thighs before kissing his way over with open mouthed kisses and a flick of his tongue to soothe the slightly darkened area from where he’d nibbled. His fingers curl themselves over the top of your shorts and underwear. “Ass up.” His lips never leave your skin as he speaks, only doing so briefly to tug down the material that barely covers your lower half. 

You do as you’re told, acting obediently for him to half strip you. You raise your feet so that the fabrics can be tugged from your feet and dropped to the floor. His lips find the top of your thighs again and your skin tingles with anticipation. You stop yourself from tilting your hips to the direction of his face, forcing him to kiss you where you want him to; need him to even.

“Are you not satisfied with my kisses?” Charles mutters against your skin as he peers up at you. Beautiful eyelashes fluttering against his skin as he watches you, lips continuing to lightly press more kisses to your body, getting closer to where you want him but far enough away to still bring frustration. 

“I am, I’m trying not to rush this.” You respond quietly.

“You want my mouth somewhere else? Didn’t you get enough of it last night?” He asks before nipping at the skin inside your groin. His tongue pokes from his lips as he tilts his head and his tongue brushes lightly against your clit. A low hum escapes your mouth and your fingers thread through his hair, holding him in place as he begins to lick and suck at your sensitive bead.

  You move your body slightly and open your legs further, granting him better access as his tongue dips below, forcing its way between your folds and teases at your dripping entrance. You tug on his hair and moan as the spot that he knows you love is caressed, causing your legs to shake and stomach to tense. His tongue sweeps back up to your clit and you feel two fingers enter, turning upwards and a beckoning motion made.

Charles continues this for a few more moments, building you up just enough so that you’re trembling and panting his name. His fingers thrust into you and curl with such precision you’re unable to form any other words other than yes or his name. Any coherent thought you may have had is pushed from your mind, a very different experience to last night. You can feel your orgasm approaching, your fingers tighten on his hair, you’re seconds away from grinding your cunt against his fingers when he pulls away from you and removes his fingers.

He smiles down at you as he licks them clean and begins to tug at his shorts. All you can do is lay before him, a frown etching onto your face as you wonder why the fuck he’s stopped.

“What’s with the frowny face?” He asks as his hand dips inside his shorts and you watch as he strokes his dick. Usually you would be licking your lips and needing it in your mouth but you’re too frustrated to entertain the thought.

“I didn’t finish?”

“Yes you did?” Charles frowns back at you. “I felt your muscles go tight around me? You tugged my hair and moaned?” He says. “I mean, you didn’t squirt like you usually do but you didn’t last night either. I thought you seemed pretty satisfied…” He trails off and you feel your stomach drop. His expression changes and in that moment you realise that he knows. 

“Well, no. I didn’t last night.” You finally admit in a quiet voice. Charles removes his hand from his boxers and rests both of them on either side of your hips to prop himself up.

  “Because you didn’t cum at all and instead, you decided to pretend that you had. That’s why.” He says confidently, his expression still a mix of amusement and anger. “You seem to forget that I’ve made you lose all control many, many times. I know your every sound, your every moan and the way your cunt feels around my fingers and against my tongue. I know the way your clit throbs when you’re close. The way you taste when you cum, when you squirt. I didn’t need to hear that conversation earlier to confirm all of this.”

“Why did you pretend to not know?” You ask, voice barely more than a whisper as you begin to wonder why the fuck he is being so calm about it all. 

“And miss an opportunity like this? I think not.” Charles shifts his weight and dips his hand back into his boxers and grips himself again. With his free hand, he pushes his boxers down over his hips and exposes himself - making you bite your lip and barely hold back a groan as you watch his hand work his length.

  “You want this baby?” Charles’s gaze remains on your face.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I want it Charles. I want it deep inside me.” You moan softly as he teases the head of his dick within the first inch of you. Just enough for you to feel it but not enough to begin to feel yourself stretch to his width. “Charles please,” You plead with him. 

“You insult me,” he begins to explain himself as he looks down between your bodies as he slowly pulls himself from you before sliding back in just enough for you to be able to feel it again. “You fake your orgasm and boast about it to your friend.” He silences you with a look when you open your mouth to object that you hadn’t boasted at all, “And you think I will let you have your way immediately? Why didn’t you just say you didn’t want to have sex?” He asks. Two fingers find your clit once more and begin to rub small circles alongside the slow, shallow thrusts. 

You bite your lip harder and try to move your hips against him, only to be stopped by his hand pressing down on your lower abdomen, holding you in place and not allowing you to take control to enjoy yourself.

  “I did want to have sex with you! I just wasn’t in the right mood to finish.”

“You have to be in the right mood?” Charles stops his movements and raises his eyebrow, “since when?”

“You can finish every single time if you thrust enough. It’s a done deal, it doesn’t take a whole lot to make a guy cum. It takes a lot more to stimulate a woman. We need to be turned on up here too.” you tap your head. “My mind just wasn’t in it completely so I couldn’t finish.” 

You sit yourself up and kiss his neck. Your lips caressing the soft skin there covering the hard muscle; feeling the way they tense and relax beneath your touch. “Charles? I didn’t cum last night through no fault of either of us.” you kiss him again just above his pulse point, near to where his earlobe is. The one place that turns him on the most and can turn any “no” to a yes. Your tongue lightly licks at his skin before you kiss there again and you can feel him beginning to melt against you.

“Tonight, you’ve stopped me from having my orgasm to teach me a lesson. But please fuck me.” You continue to kiss him, leaving a trail along his jaw, up to his lips where you nibble gently at his plump bottom lip, then kiss your way back down. “Please fuck me Charles. I need you inside me.” He swallows hard and you know he won’t last long hearing you plead like this. “Charles, please. Take me.” He pushes you backwards before his hands start to explore your body. Fingers sliding over your ass cheeks and he pulls you towards him. At the same time, your fingers curl around his dick and you begin to slowly stroke him. “Please baby,” 

A low growl sounds in his throat as he moves quickly back between your legs and presses his tongue to you, flicking his tongue over your clit in little, quick motions that leave your legs shaking immediately. He slides two fingers inside of your pussy, moving them in such a way that they brush against your g-spot with every motion. 

Charles is right, he knows your body's signs too well to pull any kind of shit with him. He pulls his fingers from you and no longer uses his mouth. You whimper his name, the question of why has he stopped is taking shape on your lips as your orgasm completely fizzles away and it’s only then that he starts again. He brings you to the edge again and again before your frustration finally gets the better of you.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m working off my anger.” He responds nonchalantly, closing his eyes and dips his tongue inside you again. Your pussy throbs against him, tired of the overstimulation now.

“Charles I swear if you don’t allow me to-”

“You’ll do what?” Charles opens his eyes and raises his eyebrow.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I faked my orgasm and then talked to someone about it.” You quickly say, “I won’t do it again. I’ll just make you work for it harder. Now please, just fuck me or make me cum at least.” You grip his hair tightly as his tongue darts back inside with a newfound force. He swirled his tongue, lapping everything up given to him while his thumb worked against your clit. Charles continues unrelentingly as your stomach tenses and the grip on his hair tightens as finally, your orgasm rips throughout you and spills over his waiting tongue.

Charles wastes no time to manipulate your body into a position that he wants and needs, barely giving you time to fully come down from your high when you feel him thrust into you from tip to base. Your fingers claw at the sofa, taking handfuls of the plush material as he thrusts hard into you.

Making the mistake of lifting your hand and biting at the soft skin there to try and muffle your moans, Charles growls with annoyance. “Don’t hide your noises.” His hands wrap around your ankles and draws your knees up to your chest, using your thighs and hips as a way to anchor himself as he fucks into you.

 His short nails dig into the skin but you don’t care. Waves of pleasure lick through your body with each of his thrusts and your low moans seem to bounce from the walls of the living room. 

“You feel so fucking good like this.” Charles groans and your pussy tenses around his cock. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites his lip, picking up the pace even more until you’re no longer sure where one thrust ends and another begins. 

“Do that again, I’m so close, baby.” Charles whimpers. You obey, soft walls now hardening around him, holding him within your cunt in a vice-like grip and within seconds, his movements are slowing and becoming sloppy as he reaches his own climax.

  “Never lie to me again,” He breathes heavily, his eyes dark and his cheeks are flush with colour. You press your lips to his before smiling. 

“I promise I won’t. Even if you did look gorgeous while proving a point.” He grins back at you, placing delicate kisses on the tip of your nose and forehead. 

_

Official Charles tag list:  @disneydaddyevans  |  @enjoymyloves

Tagging those who showed interest in this: @pom277​  |  @bumblebeereus  |  @rebekahjonesx |  @s-v-e-l-t-e |  @vinnieswife​   | 

[az-cain]

Rita’s

azriel x reader ≈ 1.2k words masterlist here

something i’ve been wanting to write, i hope you enjoy the blurb. it was actually what made me start writing again and what started a court of strings and shadows (which i can’t see myself finishing :/)

TW FOR: mention of scars

—

you go to rita’s but see azriel and mor and decide halfway through that you need some air, so you either go for a walk or you head to a small corner or balcony or something and just sit there

you’re on the verge of tears when he comes and asks to sit next to you (“i’m sure you’d rather be down there with your family” “i prefer the peace and quiet, actually” “oh”)

you talk for a little about unimportant subjects before falling into a comfortable silence. his hands are on the railing, and you’re admiring them (trying to keep down the dirty thoughts). sadly, he notices and curls them up or puts them in his pockets

“wait, don’t hide them, please. they’re beautiful”

he looks at you like you’ve grown another head and asks why you’d say that

you say you don’t know, then “they look like brushstrokes. they look like they were crafted for you and they’re just- they’re you. they’re a part of you, and they’re beautiful.” but you say it sort of sheepishly because shit, did you just call him beautiful?

he thinks his heart is gonna leap out of his chest, but he’s trying his best to keep his distance because he doesn’t think he deserves you (bullshit). so he simply nods and holds out his hands for you to see. you take one and trace your fingers along the ridges of each scar, taking it to memory. then you hold that in your hand while you trace the scars on his other hand with your thumb.

he hates seeing your perfect skin next to his, but the warmth of your hand in his is too lovely to pull away from. when you’ve finished tracing the scars on his other hand, you let it drop back to his side. you kiss the knuckles of his right hand and the amount of self control he has?? holy fuck dude. he tries to control his scent and his breathing, but you mistake that as discomfort and drop his hand, apologizing furiously and backing up.

“wait, y/n- it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was a nice change to see someone who enjoyed the way my hands looked.” he smiled a little

you couldn’t resist giving him a small smile back. “are you sure?”

“i am.” he held out his hand again, and this time you took it and interlaced your fingers with his.

“is this alright?”

“it is,” he smiled again, and it made your chest burst with joy.

then you walk for a bit and end up back at rita’s. he asks if you’d like to go inside before he slides his hand out of yours, not wanting to deal with his brothers’ teasing. you smile a little at him before entering the building again, he trails closely behind you. you can see his brothers’ faces smirking at the two of you, so you roll your eyes so that they can see it and head towards the dance floor, leaving him to contend with his brothers. a slow song comes on and you realize that you have no partner, but as you’re heading back to your seat to have another drink, azriel approaches you. he holds out his scar-mottled hand and asks you for a dance almost timidly.

“are you sure?” you ask him bc you don’t know if he’s asking out of courtesy or because he really wants to dance, and he nods.

so you dance for a little while, slow steps with his hands on your waist. you move a step closer to him, and look into his eyes for confirmation before laying your head on his shoulder. the two of you stop moving around and just sort of sit and sway. the song ends and you break from your trance, stepping back reluctantly. he squeezes your waist once before he steps away and goes to the table, afraid to lose his control on his emotions and just kiss you right there on the dance floor.

you see rhys and feyre scold him for something, but you’ve got no idea what. you shrug off that tight feeling in your chest and head back to the table yourself, sitting beside azriel and asking for a drink.

as the night continued on and he left the table, you couldn’t stop thinking about azriel’s hands and the way they’d sat on your waist, barely touching your skin through the slits in your dress. by the time the night ends, youve decided to talk to him again. you try to catch him as you’re walking out of the dance hall, but he doesn’t seem to be there. rhysand seems to notice your confusion and steps back to talk to you and explains that azriel was just grabbing something from a store nearby and that he’d be happy to show you where if you’d like to join him.

you thought about it for a moment before thanking him but shaking your head no. you didn’t want to crowd him, especially after prodding him about his hands tonight. you didn’t want to seem overbearing, because you knew that you were just friends. just friends. you and rhys rejoined the group, walking behind the others still, talking about the night. he asked about azriel and if you thought he was alright tonight.

you said that you thought he seemed out of place at first, but he was a lovely dancer. rhys teased you about dancing that close to him that it was no longer dancing and that you may as well just cuddle before the night’s end.

the group walks along the rainbow and azriel emerges from one of the buildings. by then, rhys had gone to talk with his mate and you were taking in the sights alone. az greeted his brothers before falling back to stand with you. mor gave you a disdainful look before azriel glared at her (much to everyone’s surprise) and put his hand on your shoulder, apologizing for her. you nodded and said that you understood. the group decided to fly back to the house (all except mor, who winnowed). feyre shapeshifted to grow her wings, nesta clutched tight to cassian, and azriel offered his hand to you. you stepped close to him and he scooped your legs with one arm and held your shoulders with the other. his mighty wings flapped and you lifted off the ground. you let out a small squeal and watched the world disappear beneath you.

az looked down at you in confusion “i’ve never seen someone without wings who enjoyed flying from the beginning.”

“it’s always fascinated me, what can i say? i’ve been trapped underground my whole life.”

he gave you an odd look, though not a bad one. it looked like he was trying not to smile. you brushed it off and continued watching the earth beneath you. sadly though, you landed at the house of wind rather quickly. “if you actually enjoy flying, we can do it more often.” he offered, and you smiled brightly.

“i’d like that.”

you headed to your room and fell asleep, wishing he was beside you.

masterlist here

[rpmemes-galore]

star wars: episode v - the empire strikes back ... sentence starters

“I know.”

“Punch it!”

“I won't fail you.“

“It’s not my fault!“

“I am your father.“

“You're trembling.“

“You are reckless!“

“That is why you fail.“

“Laugh it up, fuzzball.”

“I am not a committee!“

“I want proof, not leads.“

“Never tell me the odds.“

“Never tell me the odds!“

“Then I’ll see you in hell!“

“I don't...I don't believe it!“

“But you cannot control it.“

“Yes, Your Highnessness?“

“He’s no good to me dead.“

“The first transport is away.“

“Impressive. Most impressive.“

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

“He is as clumsy as he is stupid.“

“You were lucky to get out of there.“

“You make it so difficult sometimes.“

“Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh!”

“You have failed me for the last time.”

“This deal’s getting worse all the time.“

“You are beaten. It is useless to resist.“

“I can't keep the vision out of my head.“

“You certainly have a way with people...”

“Your weapons, you will not need them.“

“Control, control, you must learn control!“

“Would you please stop calling me that?“

“Would it helped if I got out and pushed?“

“You don't have to do this to impress me.“

“They're my friends. I've gotta help them.“

“You must unlearn what you have learned.“

“A great warrior. Wars not make one great.“

“No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!“

“I thought they smelled bad on the outside!“

“You have to take care of her. You hear me?“

“Search your feelings; you know it to be true!“

“A death mark’s not an easy thing to live with.“

“Join me, and together we can rule the galaxy.”

“He told me enough. He told me you killed him.”

“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.”

“Scoundrel? Scoundrel... I like the sound of that.“

“How ya feeling, kid? You don't look so bad to me.“

“Perhaps you think you are being treated unfairly?“

“Hey! Save your strength. There'll be another time.“

“What if he doesn't survive? He's worth a lot to me.“

“My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained!“

“There's something not right here... I feel cold. Death.“

“It could mean anything! If we followed up every lead...“

“I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.“

“Being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited.”

“If he could be turned, he would become a powerful ally.“

“Well, I guess you don't know everything about women, yet.“

“Why, you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking, nerf-herder!”

“I had no choice. They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry.“

“Afraid I was gonna leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?“

“There isn’t enough life on this ice cube to fill a space cruiser.“

“You do have your moments. Not many, but you do have them.“

“Some day, you're gonna be wrong. I just hope I'm there to see it.”

“I promise to return and finish what I've begun. You have my word.“

“You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive.“

“I’m standing here in pieces, and you’re having delusions of grandeur!“

“Come on. You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me.“

“This may smell bad, kid, but it'll keep you warm until I get the shelter up.”

“I'm sure he'll be all right. He's quite clever, you know... for a human being.“

“You like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.“

“You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm all right.“

“That's a good story. I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight.“

“You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake. Well, this could be it, sweetheart.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Infatuation

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, cheating, fingering, scary Clark.

This is dark!Clark Kent and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Kents’ maid stumbles in on an awkward conversation.

Based on these drabble requests:

Clark Kent + “You can’t hide…” + maid AU + Maid overhears Clark saying some concerning things about her and tries to avoid the inevitable. Feel free to add as many dirty kinks as you like, love ;) @lokislastlove​

The sponge grew cold in your hand as you stood beside the door, an inch or two between it and the frame. You hid in the corner as you listened, the shock paralysed you as you tried to process the words. It couldn’t possibly be about you. It couldn’t.

“Clark, you have to realise this is wrong!” Lois said, “it’s inappropriate, it’s unhealthy… it’s… it’s disgusting.”

“They’re just pictures,” Clark replied calmly, “it’s like buying a Playboy. You’re still my wife.”

“Playboy? You’ve been following her… you--” you heard the slap of filmy sheets and her frustrated grunt, “I’m firing her, right now.”

“You can’t do that--”

“For her own safety I will,” Lois insisted, “and then I’m leaving.”

“I pay her, you don’t get to--”

“You need help!” she shrieked, “you understand that? Help.”

“You need to leave, Lois, if that’s what you wanna do,” he said curtly, “I’ll see you out.”

You heard a high-pitched zip and the door opened. You flattened yourself to the wall, stunned that neither noticed you as Lois stormed through with a suitcase and Clark followed. They continued to argue. Your heart rate spiked and you sidled down the stairs only feet behind them as they headed for the front door.

You had to get out before you were found out. You doubted either of them realised you were still there. You went to the kitchen as you heard their voices at the front door and you packed up your bucket of supplies carefully.

What was Lois talking about? Pictures? Maybe they weren’t of you, but it was your name which called you to eavesdrop. Clark was following you, spying on you. Why? You were just a maid and he was married to her. Lois, an established and beautiful reporter. A woman who could be proud, not some maid knuckle deep in other peoples’ grime.

The door slammed and you heard Lois’ car. You went to the back door, ready to slip out. You pulled it open but another barrier met you. Clark stood on the back step as if waiting for you. How had he known. You stumbled away from him as he stepped inside.

“Hey, I just finished up for the night,” you said shakily.

“You heard all that, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice so even it sank into your veins.

“Heard what?” you lied.

He chuckled and reached for the bucket. You let him take it only because you were too afraid to resist. He took it and placed it on the corner of the counter. You took another step back and looked around.

“I really should go, I have an early morning on the opposite end of town--”

“You heard,” he repeated.

“Heard… what?” you echoed breathily.

He smirked and you nearly tripped over your own feet. You turned and rushed through the kitchen and down the hall. You got to the front door and a sudden red flash had you staggering back. The white trim seared and amber bits fell burning to the carpet. 

You looked over your shoulder as you pushed away from the door. Clark’s eyes shone an inhuman red as he walked slowly but steadily towards you. You fled into the next room and ducked down as you feared another blast, foolish as you knew the couch wouldn’t stop him.

Your heart was in your ears. Who was he? What was he?

“You can’t hide…I can hear your pulse,” he said as his footsteps continued closer and you ran out and as good as fell through the other door that led back into the hall, “I can see you… even with these walls between us.”

You made for the door again and he stepped back out in front of you. You collided with the wall of muscle and his hands settled on your arms. His eyes had returned to their usual blue but his pupils were dilated and endless.

“You’re…” you gasped, “you’re supposed to be a good guy.”

The realisation of who he was, the connection of the dots; his physique, his eyes, the red beam, the fact that Lois had the exclusive on all of Superman’s greatest deeds. She knew too and she must know she couldn’t stop him.

“I am a good guy. You think I want to hurt you?” he guided you back and angled you until your heel met the bottom stair. You shook and grabbed his wrists as his large hands went to your neck.

“I don’t know what you want,” you tumbled back as he tried to force you up, “but I want to go home.”

He caught you and pulled you back to him. He had you over his shoulder in an instant and his ascent hostled you with each step. You beat on his back and scratched the wall.

“Clark, what are you--”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he pet your thigh, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Put me down, please,” you cried as he got to the top and turned down the hall, “please.”

You tore a framed photo from the wall and it clattered behind him. He kept on as if he didn’t even notice and entered the bedroom. He kicked the door shut and tossed you down on the bed you’d made only an hour earlier. You bounced harshly and rolled over. You crawled towards the edge and he caught your ankles. He pulled you back easily and you whined in terror.

“Don’t do this,” you begged as he flipped you onto your back, “please, don’t--”

He straddled you beneath him as you smacked at his thick chest and shoulders. You flailed your legs as you desperately tried to wriggle out from the vice of his body. He grabbed the top of your button-up shirt and you clung to his hands. You couldn’t stop him as he tore and the buttons flew into a scatter.

“Clark,” you mewled, “Clark, please…”

“I’ve been thinking of this for so long,” he purred and bent over you, his lips pecking along your throat and chest, “sometimes I just watch you when you’re here and think… think about what I wanna do with you.”

“Please,” you pushed on his head, your fingers twining with his thick curls.

“And I…” he exhaled and slid the straps of your bra down your arms, “think about this…” he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled as his thighs moved lower atop your legs, “even when Lois is here…”

You croaked and trembled helplessly beneath him as his hands roved as fervently as his mouth. He pushed a knee between your legs and lifted his head to hover over yours. His breath danced over your lips and he kissed you as his other leg pushed yours apart. His fingers hooked in the back of your pants and you whimpered into his mouth.

“Shhh,” he drew back and caressed your cheek as he peered into your eyes, “it’s okay, I just want to love you.”

You whined through your teeth in frustration as his body weighed yours down. He tugged your pants down over your ass and sat back to tear them down your legs, quickly pushing them back around him. He played with the elastic of your panties and pressed his fingers to the crotch, rubbing through them as he kissed you again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as his lips dragged down your jaw and he slid your panties aside, his fingertips quickly found your clit again, “I only wanted to keep you safe… keep you mine.”

He dipped his fingers into you and the heel of his hand pressed firm to your bud. You gasped and turned your head away as he nibbled along your throat. He teased you until you were wet and pulled his hand back to fumble with the front of his pants. The panic swelled in your chest again as he wiggled his hips and freed himself over his fly.

“No…” you shoved his shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance, he looked into your eyes and you framed his face with your hands, “please, don’t--”

He impaled you with a grunt and you cried out. Your fingers curled around his jaw as he jerked your body with each thrust. His eyes rolled back as he was lost in the smoke of his lust. His hips moved harder and faster each time your walls twitched around him and his growls filled your ears in a horrid drone.

“It hurts,” you gulped, “Clark--” You sobbed and tugged his hair as he bit at your neck and groped your chest, “you said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He purred and ignored your protest, your cunt ached around him as he battered your thighs. You hit your head against the mattress in defeat and grunted. He pushed you deeper into the springs and your body bounced against his easily. You slapped his thick arms and closed your eyes, turning your head away as you tried to escape his grasp.

You were trapped, tortured, and terrified. You could only wait for it to be over. You could only hope when it was, he’d let you go.

💗💗💗

Reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed. Thanks for reading.

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground 06: The Price of Freedom

I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!

This is episode 6: The Price of Freedom, which is Sonia’s world building episode! It shows a little bit of how the aristocrats live, and what they have to be willing to do, consciously or not, to maintain their lifestyle.

The plot (for want of a better word): Frustrated with life on the run, Sonia goes to visit her best friend Mindy LaTour. Mindy reveals her latest project: fashion watches! But not all is as it seems! It turns out Robotnik has been using Mindy’s watches to spy on her customers. Will Sonia be able to help her friend escape Robotnik’s machinations?

THE DRAMA.

Sonia has a new outfit! It is immediately ruined, along with her bike. RIP both.

I actually vibe with Aleena’s narration this time. She points out that you can get so caught up in running that you lose sight of why running is worth it. It’s important to take breaks and remind yourself of why you do things that you do. …like watching a show to remind you why you started writing a fic twenty years ago. …huh…

ANYWAY.

Sonia… sweetheart, they are the authorities. Them calling 911 will do nothing. Also, you’re on Mobius, there is no such thing.

Honestly, I know they’re dumb boys in a 90s cartoon, but if Sonic and Manic could show just the slightest hint of emotional empathy to their frustrated sister right now, I would be so impressed. Though it is nice that they’re cheering her win rather than mocking the fact she got stuck in a tree.

But to be fair, she gets personal before they do. And then proceeds to forget that she’s a literal fugitive to go visit her best friend.

I love Mindy and her father as world building devices, by the way. Because it’s again quite believable: raised taxes as a result of Robotnik ramping up his efforts against the resistance means the idle rich can’t afford to be idle, and Mindy’s father is forced into corrupting his own daughter’s design to make surveillance equipment, or (as Bartleby saw with Lady Windemere) they both risk robotocisation. If they choose principles instead, they immediately have to go on the run. They give up their lives, their homes, everything they have, with no particular reason at this point to believe they’ll survive. It’s… a lot to risk.

I am not a fan of Sonia’s nightmare however. It feels like time filler which could easily have been spent with Sonic and Manic following SWATbots to the factory, or discussing Sonia and her lifestyle choices, or whether she really belongs in the resistance – you know, world building?

Anyway, stop thinking, LeDiz, Sonic and Sonia are somehow talking through their medallions, despite Sonic wearing his medallion. One of these things is an animation error and I am not going to ask which. They make up and it’s as cute as you can expect from this show.

The SONG: Money can’t buy (the things you really need). A rare song to be sung by someone who isn’t a royal triplet! Very um… I mean Mindy’s a whole reference to Cindy Lauper. It shows.

I do love this so much though: “I don’t need manicures!” “You don’t?” “Well, I could cut back! I could definitely cut back!” Sometimes even the Trashfire can be funny.

And she thinks being in the resistance is a game and it annoys Sonic so much and it’s GREAT. I just love Mindy so much…!

Aaaand they are promptly caught and doomed. DISTRESS. Except Sonic’s escaped this time so it’s okay.

Don’t know how he got up to the flying ship, but WE DO NOT QUESTION. He’s here to Save The Day As He Must.

…I was wondering (because it’s been a while since I watched these) what the Hedgehogs were doing to the watches. I am impressed that Manic and Sonic apparently know how to reprogram – normally that would be a Sonia The Accomplished Everything skill, but I suppose Manic’s a wrenchhead and Sonic learned from Uncle Chuck. Stop questioning.

Also don’t know how the watches got up onto the flying ship, but again, stop questioning!

(MegaDrive controller’s a nice touch though)

But Mindy and her dad are now on the run. We will never see them again.

This is not the last time we will see a character that has been manipulated by Robotnik. It was a bit of a running theme. But this episode did a lot to help build the aristocratic perspective in my head, I think. It’s all about choices and perspective, and what you’re willing to risk and for what.

Still a terrible show though, let’s not forget.

But I love Mindy. I LOVE MINDY. She's so terrible and childish and PERFECT at what she is, and she gives great insight into who Sonia was before the Resistance. She's such a powerful world building tool. I so wish we could have seen her again. Ahh, my good show That Could Have Been...

Come back tomorrow for more if you're interested!

[mhevarujta]

Having finished my reread of F&B and with every episode we're given, I realise more and more that I'm not team Green in the strict sense. I'm mostly anti-Black and it's not even because I hate the Blacks as individual characters. Both Greens and Blacks are awful with few exceptions on each side and none of those exceptions being the main players and I'm definitely not blind to the Greens committing warcrimes later. 

But the main reason I am against the Blacks is this:The Targaryens were conquerors. They were foreigners who came in with fire and blood and either destroyed those who opposed or were met without resistence by those who wanted to survive (there are in-betweens, but I'm leaving it to the main reactions). When Aegon and his sisters had the throne, it was Aegon who was on the throne and who ruled. Visenya and Maegor took out competition to maintain the throne. When it came to inheritence laws, the Targs did NOTHING for women. Even when it comes to basic respect of women, queen Alysanne (who was very much ahead of her time), had to fight tooth and nail against the right of first night and was horrified by her own house's practice. BUT, Jaehaerys DID push for incest rights instead (like, yes, he was a decent king compared to most, but pick your battles man). When Alysanne, tried to push for Rhaenys, a woman who would actually make a good queen, she was denied by her own and a council was called so that Jaehaerys wouldn't even have the subversion of his granddaughter on his hands.

 In the show Aemma would die either way, but Viserys did not bother to ask permission or to give her the respect of telling her what would happen so that she'd be prepared when they cut her open. Rhaenyra and Daemon's actions are constantly against the king's orders or against things that the Targs themselves have established and perpetuated.So, am I supposed to hate anyone who has ambitions that go against the Targs' interests? They had enforced themselves and supported the very traditions that are now used against them. If anything, I actually dislike Otto for what he did to his family for example and not about him wanting to rise socially. Why is anyone from the high houses wrong for wanting more during a dynastic rule that expects them to shut up to anything they decide if they find an opportunity for more? Vaemond was not a green and I hate his demeanor, but am I supposed to hate him for advocating for the inheritence system that suiteed him when the Targs themselves were keeping going this very system for centuries? Am I supposed to hate characters who commit high treason when the king makes high treason the act of speaking against high treason to further personal interests? Am I supposed to root for Rhaenyra to get what she thinks she's entitled to, despite making conscious choices that put her in a disfavorable position, when she later chooses to not further other women's rights to serve herself?

My point is that while both sides are awful, my reaction to most things that happen to the blacks is 'cry me a river', because the Targs have been the architects of the opposition they're meeting and are no more righteous than anyone else.In terms of characters though they're definitely complex and fascinating. I just think their actions are romanticized by their audience in a way I don't understand.

[shemarmooresfedora]

A Bump in the Road

Summary: You and Spencer had kept your relationship a secret from the team until something changed your plans.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: brief mentions of a case but other than that, just pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: this is the first of my 3 fics for me and @samuel-de-champagne-problems 500 follower co-celebration! the prompts for both of us today were: Accidental Pregnancy, Reader/Spencer looking for excuses to hold the other’s hand, “I need to talk to you…like right now”. To see her fic today and our upcoming prompts: click here!

Masterlist

“Prentiss, Morgan, you go to the neighborhood of the victims. Y/L/N, Reid, go downtown and just look around for anything strange,” Hotch stated, “I need you all to look casual while scoping out the area so try to look like normal citizens and don’t flash your badges.”

Derek raised his shades to put them on but Gideon gently grabbed his arm to stop him, “Less official.”

Emily let out a chuckle, “Let’s go, Morgan.”

“You ready, Spence?” you grabbed the keys.

“Yes, lov- ,” he played it off as a cough, “Yes, Y/L/N.”

“That was a close one,” Spencer said as he adjusted his satchel as you walked out of the police department together.

“You’re the one who keeps almost calling me ‘love’ in the conference room in front of the whole team! And on the jet!” you added with a giggle.

“It’s not my fault!” he insisted, “My brain short-circuits whenever I look at your beautiful face.”

“You’re hard to stay mad at,” you playfully rolled your eyes.

You and Spencer had been dating for about 4 months now. You decided to keep it a secret from the team until your six month anniversary. You didn’t need the teasing at the beginning of your relationship when things were still a bit new and awkward. But now, you both had said ‘I love you’ and you were practically living at his apartment when you weren’t away on cases. It was perfect.

-

You and Spencer were walking down the sidewalk downtown, looking for anyone who seemed to fit the profile.

“Hmmm we seem too official,” you smiled, grabbing his hand, “I guess we have to act like a happy couple. You know, just for the case.”

“Yep, just for the case,” Spencer squeezed your hand, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“For the case,” he grinned.

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him back in for a much longer kiss on the lips.

“For.” you planted butterfly kisses along his jawline, “The.” another kiss, “Case.”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hotch,” he said before swiping accept and putting it on speaker phone, “Hey Hotch. You’ve got me and Y/L/N.”

“Morgan and Prentiss caught the unsub trying to grab another victim off the street. They fit the profile to a tee. We’re bringing them in for questioning but we’ll take shifts. You and Y/L/N can go back to the hotel and get some rest first.”

“Alright, thanks Hotch,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Oh I think there’s one more thing we have to do when we get back to the hotel room…for the case,” you winked, pulling him back to the SUV with your hands still interlocked.

-

You were in the bathroom stall of the sixth floor, anxiously bouncing your legs up and down.

The timer on your phone started vibrating, indicating the time was up. You stared at the stick in front of you, waiting to be flipped over.

You flipped it over quickly like ripping off a band-aid. Two lines. The second one was faint but definitely there. You were pregnant. 5 months into a relationship with Spencer.

You rolled the test up in toilet paper before placing it in your purse. You washed your hands and splashed some cold water on your face. You took a deep breath before walking back into the bullpen like you hadn’t just received life-altering news.”

You grabbed a random file from your desk as you passed by and approached Spencer’s desk. He looked up from his paperwork with a soft smile as he saw you coming.

“I need to talk to you…like right now,” you whispered, “About the Johnson case,” you spoke a little louder so no one would question what you two were whispering about.

Spencer began to stand and grab his jacket to follow you but Penelope came charging into the room, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards her bat cave.

“Actually, Penelope, I have to ask Spencer some questions about a case. I’ll come find you in a bit.”

Spencer nodded to back you up.

“Trust me, the news I have is wayyy more important,” Penelope continued to tug at you.

“Penelope, I really need to finish this. Just give me the highlights now,” you resisted her pull.

“I found a pregnancy test box in the bathroom and I didn’t find the stick. I’m no profiler but usually people would only keep the test with them if it’s positive,” she confessed, “Someone on this floor is pregnant!”

Your eyes widened and you mentally slapped yourself on the forehead. How could you forget to throw the box away?

You made eye contact with Spencer, shooting him a sheepish grin as if to say ‘surprise?!’

Penelope started to drag you along again but Spencer grabbed a hold of your other arm.

“Actually, Hotch really needs her to get this done, Garcia. I promise she’ll be over as soon as we finish it.”

Penelope and Spencer were engaged in an intense staring battle with you in the middle.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll just have to gossip with Morgan! Now you don’t get to know all my theories,” Penelope huffed.

“I’m sorry, Penelope. I’ll make it up to you at lunch tomorrow.

As she clicked away with her high heels on, Spencer pulled you into a supply closet.

“You’re pregnant?!” he asked.

“Um, yeah I am. I understand if this isn’t what you want though, it’s not really the timing either of us had in mind,” you spoke softly, rubbing your arm.

Spencer pulled you in for a hug, “I’m happy if you’re happy. I’ll support whatever decision you make. I can schedule you an appointment at the clinic and I’ll be right by your side the whole time. But if you do decide to have this child, have no doubt that I will be there every step of the way with you in raising them.”

“I think I’m going to keep it,” you smiled softly.

“We’re having a baby?” Spencer beamed.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Spence.”

The closet door swung open, revealing a confused Anderson.

“I don’t know why this is so emotional for you, Reid. We’re out of paper clips,” you crossed your arms as Spencer wiped his happy tears away.

Anderson grabbed some extra staples and scurried out of the closet.

“Most women tend to find out they’re pregnant from 4 to 7 weeks and we’ve been together for 15,” Spencer stated.

“Even your sperm is smart. They managed to get past my birth control so quickly,” you laughed.

-

You and Spencer decided to wait to tell the team until the end of your first trimester. After that, you couldn’t put it off any longer because you were beginning to show slightly if you wore tight shirts. Also, it was killing Spencer to have to pretend that his child was not inside your tummy all day.

You tried to schedule ultrasounds before or after work but sometimes one of you would have to take the day off in advance for ‘a family thing’ while one of you would mysteriously ‘fall ill’ the day of.

Your doctor had just given you the all clear that the baby was perfectly healthy at the end of the first trimester so you were ready to tell the team.

You wore a tight shirt with a jacket over it for the announcement. You let go of Spencer’s hand right before he entered the bullpen.

“See you on the other side,” you winked before sneaking off to the other entrance of the round table room.

You heard Spencer ask if everyone could join him in the conference room for a special announcement.

“What’s all this about, Kid?” Derek asked.

“I have been dating someone for just over 7 months now and she is amazing, beautiful, smart, kind, and I love her so so much. We found out about two months ago that she is pregnant. We actually just got back from the final ultrasound of the first trimester,” Spencer announced.

The team was speechless for about a minute.

“Congratulations,” Hotch finally spoke for everyone.

“WHO IS IT?” Penelope asked.

“She’s actually right out here. I have a feeling you’ll like her,” Spencer smiled.

You stripped off your jacket so your belly bump was on full display as you entered the room.

“Hi guys,” you waved as Spencer wrapped his arms around you from behind and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

The team erupted into gasps and cheers.

“You…and her???” Derek couldn’t seem to process this new information, “How did a group of profilers miss this?”

“Because my boyfriend is a genius,” you grinned up at him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No, my girlfriend is way smarter. She scheduled all of the ultrasounds and how to get the time off,” Spencer smiled down at you.

“Okay, we’re both geniuses so the baby will be a genius too,” you concluded.

Spencer bent down to give your belly a kiss as the team ‘aww’ed.

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