#why did i think they were holding hands ar first glance

[hellzfire]

they are so fucking ugly i cant (affectionate)

[kissitbttr]

you slam your purse down on the kitchen counter, heels clicking towards the fridge.

behind you, toji rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a loud sigh. he shrugs off his coat before hanging it on the rack. “here we go” he mutters tiredly,

you throw a glance over your shoulder and shoot a glare at him. “what?”

“nothing” toji strides towards you with hands on his hips. “just think that maybe you should act your fucking age for once, sweetheart”

and it makes you let out the loudest yet sarcastic cackle in the middle of the kitchen, unaware of toji’s clenching jaw as he stares at you.

“funny you should say that because it was definitely me who’s acting like my own age while my fiancée was out whoring himself out with a skinny blonde skank in green dress during the gala”

oh fucking—

“jesus” he sighs, rubbing his face up and down with both palms. staring at how your body turns away from him, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and closing it with your heel. “this is what is all about?!”

“yeah, what else?” you sass, looking at him while twisting the cap off. “got another bitch you’re flirting with i do not know about?”

thread carefully fushiguro he thinks, don’t forget how mean she can be

“baby..” he tries to talk softly with you, calming himself so he wouldn’t lash out. “she was an investor… it is my job to find a high quality investor so i would be able to extend my business overseas.. why would i be flirting with another woman when i got you there with me tonight, hm?”

you raise an eyebrow, hand on hip. “so are you saying you’d flirt with more if I wasn’t coming with you?”

he gapes. “what the fuck— that’s not what i meant! you’re my woman! why should i even look at other girls?!”

“you just did tonight!” an argument leaves your mouth. “right in front of me!”

“i fucking wasn’t!” he raises his voice. “why would you even think that?!”

“you were staring at her far too long” you point out, eye brows scrunching together, a sign that tells him that you’re not wrong,

toji shakes his head, “we were having a conversation!”

“so you had to look at her like that?!”

“where the fuck my eyes should be looking then?!”

your tongue clicks against your teeth, watching how your man becoming frustrated. “my tits”

and there it is. the smart comeback that toji loves and hate at the same time. fucking christ, he sometimes wonders how on earth could he put up with you for so long.

the answer? ask God.

“you’re being a smarty pants right now with me, mami”

“nope” you pop out the word, putting the bottle down on the counter it creates a sound. “dead serious.” you turn on your heel and move to the other side of the room,

“oh we are not finished” in quick seconds, toji is able to pull you by your hips and draw you to him. causing you to let out a gasp. “hey, hey—how long have we been together, hm?”

no answer. instead, you look away. arms crossed over your chest. but toji isn’t having any of that, his one hand moves under your chin to get you to look at him.

“come on—how long?”

“…three years” you mumble

he nods, locking his eyes with you. “exactly… and when you kept rejecting me because you weren’t saying yes each time i ask you out… what did i do?”

you sigh, eyes closing for a moment. “waited a whole six months for me. sent me details about your whereabouts and what you were doing because you wanted me to know that you’re serious about having a relationship with me”

again, toji nods. the grip he has on your hip loosen, palm squeezing the soft flesh over the fabric of the dress. “now… would i even be willing to throw away our three years spent together for a woman that I don’t even know about nor find attractive? do you not trust me, baby?”

the tone of his voice becomes softer, eyes pleading to let you know that he’s here for you. and it’s always going to be you. he sees a future together even far before the two of you hit your first anniversary. you’re it for him.

“i do, ji-ji” a pout forming on your lips, eyes looking down as you hold onto his arms. “never doubted you one second”

“then why did you do what you did, hm?” he pulls you in closer, arms snaking around your waist. “you know that I wouldn’t leave you—never in a million years—the thought of finding another woman has not even crossed my mind, gorgeous…”

your shoulders come up in a weak shrug, “just don’t like it when girls are attracted to you… it’s pissing me off that they know you’re hot”

he laughs at that, pecking your forehead. “while that might be true, you then know how it feels to be me when i see men gawking over my fiancée. it’s crazy.”

toji earns a small smile from you, blushing a bit. “i guess…”

“you know what goes through my mind when i was talking to the woman tonight?” he asks, watching you shake your head. “i kept thinking about wanting to fuck you in this dress.. so bad.. you were such a distraction I couldn’t think straight” he groans,

with a giggle, you ask “really?” hands moving up around his broad neck and shoulders. he nods with a half smirk. “do you still want to?”

he raises both of his eyebrows, before moving his hands down to your thighs and catching you off guard by throwing your body over the shoulder with one arm. toji picks up the cold bottle of water off the counter and easily make his way upstairs with a giggling soon to be wife.

“you’ll find out soon enough, doll”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Can you please write about a dark/yandere Luke x Child of Ares reader? The reader has anger issues and Luke is like totally in love. How would the reader act if they noticed how Luke is always following/stalking them? IF YOU LIKE TO CHANGE THE PLOT THEN YOU CAN DO SO! THANK YOUU!

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀ℯ𝓇

MASTERLIST

Warnings- LOTSSS of tension, mentions of stalking but nothing crazy,

“C’mon, You can do better than that!” You said to the kid, they picked up their sword and were breathing heavily, sweating.

“Can we just take a break?” The kid complained, leaning against a tree.

“No. Do the Gods take breaks? Do the monsters coming after you take breaks?” You replied. God, this kid was annoying. And if Chiron handed another one off to you, you were going to scream.

“No, but-“

“But nothing. You’re too weak, and you need training. No breaks.” You said. The kid huffed and you got in a ready stance again.

“You’re harsh on them.” You heard a voice say from behind you. You had just wrapped up the training. You knew that voice from anywhere.

“What do you want, Castellan?” You asked him, tone annoyed. You picked up your sword and tools, not even glancing at him.

“Easy, tiger.” He laughed, holding his hands up in defense. You ignored him. “Just wandering around and I saw you with the kid.”

“Mhm..” you rolled your eyes, standing up and turning to him now.

“Well, I’ll see you later.”

You furrowed an eyebrow at him. What was later?

“It’s capture the flag day…” he said, when he noticed your confused expression.

“Fuck.” You groaned, he smirked and left you alone for now.

You conversed with your team, and Annabeth was out sick, so you guys were going against fucking Luke Castellan.

You noticed him glancing at you from afar while you spoke to your team and he spoke to his. He had a shit eating grin that you wanted to wipe off his face, desperately.

You discussed the best plan, changing up some roles. “Any new campers, follow Clarisse.” And with that, Chiron explained the rules, the horns were played and game started. You and Luke looked at each other one more time, you flipped him off from afar and he just kept on smiling cockily before disappearing from your view.

You all went across the bridge, you looking for Luke, who you knew would be the biggest problem out of them all.

You ventured into the woods, you saw some kids, but easily brought them down and left them begging for mercy when they tried to pick a fight with you.

There was no sign of him, he usually didn’t go with the flag holder, because he was always looking for you. Of course you didn’t know that, but he did.

And that’s exactly what he was doing now. He creeped up behind you quietly, and put his sword to your neck.

“Found you first.” He breathed, his warm breath hitting the shell of your ear. His body was now pressed against yours as you stood, stunned.

“Great job, Castellan.” You said sarcastically. He was confused why you said it like that until you grabbed his arm from behind you, using all your strength to throw him onto the ground. He groaned, his helmet falling off next to him.

He went to grab his sword but you grabbed it before him. He looked up at you, cocky smile gone now.

You put your shoe on his chest, a smile of victory now on your face.

The horns started to blow again, and you both turned into the direction of the sound. You huffed, taking your foot off him. He stood up, brushing himself off.

You handed him his helmet and you walked ahead of him, glancing over your shoulder as you spoke.

“By the way, don’t think I haven’t been noticing you watching me, stalker.”

He stood still, stunned at your words. You just smirked as you walked away, already knowing your team had won by the shouts you could hear.

[herlondonboy]

i love you, clarisse la rue

summary: part two of unclaimed

warnings: none? it’s short, sorry…

wc: 1.2k

tags: @isnt-itstrange @valenftcrush

the day celebrating your birth came quick. all celebrations had been put on hold with the arrival of percy. clarisse was glad he was leaving so that everything would go back to normal.

once your bag was packed, you mindlessly walked around camp, kicking at rocks as people avoided you like the plague. like if they looked at you, you’d send them to the underworld.

your steps were big as you held a confidence you didn’t even know you had. then you were at the area cabin. before you had the chance to double guess or even raise your hand to knock, the door swung open, clarisse staring at you.

your throat was dry. all the newfound self confidence gone. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t have to. clarisse just knew. always.

“happy birthday,” was all she said. how did she know you didn’t want to talk about it?

tears gathered in your eyes and she pulled you forward into a kiss. a kiss that felt like it would be the last. why would she kiss you like that?

when you broke away, you hugged like there was no tomorrow. and maybe there wouldn’t be. your quest was to protect percy jackson and his friends in their quest. your quest was to get them in and out of the underworld unscathed. even if it meant you had to stay forever.

“i lo-“

“don’t,” clarisse cut you off. ‘i love yous’ we’re rarely said between the two of you. it was something that was known without being said. you love each other. you will always love each, even in death.

“please, clar,” you begged. you needed to say this. she stayed silent. “i love you. all the way to tartarus and back. i have loved you from the moment i first saw you. i will continue to love you even after i die. but i’m not going to,” clarisse caught onto the slight waver in your voice. “i’m not going to die in this quest and we’re going to live happily ever after, okay?”

“okay,” clarisse nodded.

your eyebrows furrowed. “clarisse, say it back.”

she sighed. “you know i do.”

“i know, i just- please.”

“y/n…”

“clarisse,” the tears in your eyes came back, but she still didn’t say it. nodding, you shuffled out of her arms, “i’m going to go find will.”

“wait,” clarisse said, reaching into her pocket. “for you,” it was a metal ring.

you didn’t thank her, just pocketing the ring and walking away. you didn’t go to will. you went right over to the far side of camp where you collapsed.

why didn’t she just say it back?

the afternoon sun bathed the camp in a warm glow as you sought out clarisse again, determined to make the most of your final day together. finding her near the training arena, you noticed a subtle furrow in her brow that betrayed the emotions she kept concealed.

"hey, clarisse," you greeted, trying to infuse a lightness into your voice.

she grunted in response, sparing you a glance before returning her attention to her weapon.

undeterred, you persisted, "i was thinking we could spend the rest of the day together, you know, make some memories n stuff before i go."

clarisse eyed you for a moment, and then, with a nod, she reluctantly agreed. as you explored the camp, you could sense her inner turmoil, but she wore a mask of composure.

in the late afternoon, you led clarisse to a nearby cave rumored to hold ancient secrets. the dim light cast shadows on the walls as you ventured deeper, the air growing cooler. spotting a serpent, you reached down, surprising clarisse.

"what are you doing with that snake?" she asked, a mixture of curiosity and amusement in her voice.

"just making a friend," you replied, holding the snake with a grin. "you never know when a serpent's wisdom might come in handy."

clarisse rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile.

as you left the cave, the weight of the impending quest hung in the air. determined to lift the spirits, you proposed spending the night in the ares cabin with her. wrapped in blankets, you both lay side by side, the subtle sadness lingering between you.

"i'm gonna miss you," clarisse admitted quietly, her tough exterior momentarily giving way to vulnerability.

"i'll be back before you know it," you reassured, intertwining your fingers with hers.

the night wore on, and as sleep eluded you both, you decided on a spontaneous late-night swim. sneaking out of the camp, you found yourselves at the edge of a moonlit lake.

the cool water embraced you, and laughter echoed across the still night. in the midst of the gentle waves, you promised clarisse that this wouldn't be the end.

"i'll come back, clarisse. we'll have more nights like this," you vowed, looking into her eyes.

as you emerged from the water, clothes clinging to your skin, you found a secluded spot on the shore. the moonlit night provided the perfect backdrop for shared dreams and whispered confessions.

with dawn approaching, you held each other close, speechless promises passing between you. the looming quest couldn't erase the memory of that night—the laughter, the promises, and the hope of a future beyond the horizon.

“i love you too,” clarisse murmured, eyes still closed. “that’s a confession, not a goodbye.”

the next morning, you were out of camp with a bunch of twelve year olds, playing protector. you lead them to the nearest bus station.

“you can stay with me, if you want,” you heard, making you falter. your turned your head towards the blonde and rose an eyebrow, willing him to explain. “when we get back to camp… there’s no hades cabin and you said the hermes kids don’t like you very much, and it gets lonely in the poseidon one, so…” he trailed off and you cracked a smile.

“okay,” you said softly. “i’ll keep you company.”

-

you, feeling an urgency in your heart, decided to make an offering to iris, hoping for a moment to speak to clarisse at camp. a small trinket and a heartfelt plea were left at the edge of the rainbow, a silent wish for a connection.

iris, almost immediately let you contact your girlfriend. a glimpse of clarisse appeared in the distance. as you approached, excitement mingled with anxiety. clarisse, always perceptive, furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a cut on your face.

"what happened?" she asked, concern etched across her features.

you explained, "had to fight two furies. it got a bit messy."

clarisse's eyes flashed with a mix of pride and worry. "you're a magnet for trouble, aren't you?"

“i guess it comes with being a forbidden child.”

the encounter felt painfully brief. words exchanged in hushed tones, stolen moments in an alleyway. it felt like time conspired against you, and soon, you found yourselves parting ways again.

sighing, you left the alley, returning to the bustling street. the separation weighed on you. amidst the noise of the city, you couldn't shake the feeling of longing.

as you stepped back onto the street, you asked, "did you mail it?"

percy nodded, a subtle smile widening on his face. the idea to mail medusa’s head to the gods had been percy’s. you loved it. your only wish was being able to see their faces as they received the parcel.

“where to next?” the question fell deaf on ears as annabeth turned to some train tracks. it clicked immediately. a train from new york to los angeles… fun

[twoduelsabers]

push and pull

summary -> why don't his bloodied hands on your body feel wrong? they should be. he should feel wrong, horrifying and evil. so why doesn't he?

content warnings -> suggestive themes, slight nsfw, corruption, denial

her heavy breathing echoed throughout the cave, as she tried to calm her breath. warmness of qimir's body only reminded her further of how wrong this all was, how she shouldn't be here. on this planet, with him at all. she didn't even remember how exactly she ended up like this, under him, in his cot. they were fighting- or at least she wanted to think that they were. that she was, in fact, pushing him away.

now that she came down from the pleasure that he, as the first one in her life inflicted, doubts started tugging at her chest. the hands that were tangled in qimir's hair fell down her sides, and suddenly the cave's walls seemed very interesting. oh how she wished to be taken away by the cold waves that were heard outside, on the shore. away from him.

qimir's expression was unreadable, even when she reached into the force for help. without a word, he shifted off of her, putting his black trousers back on. his back was turned when he ran his hand through his disheleved locks, and her gaze involuntarily dropped to his scar. she winced slightly. she didn't notice it before.

as if he could feel her stare, qimir stood up, walking off in the direction of stacked crates in the corner of his makeshift house, not sparing a glance.

she propped herself up, looking for her top, spotting it thrown on the ground without care. she couldn't say she hadn't expected that, for him to just leave her as she was. the air around suddenly became cold, and she couldn't help but miss his warmth. she still felt a little sore, but she stood up, a little wobbly.

"where are you going?"

qimir's sudden question caught her off guard. when she looked up, he was gazing at her, his head tilted to the side. she didn't know what to say.

with no further explanation, qimir guided her to sit back down, searching for eye contact. but she was distant, constantly avoiding him. he didn't press firther. instead he gently brought the damp fabric he was holding to her skin, wiping away the evidence of their earlier indulgence.

she almost couldn't move, her bewildered gaze noticing the glass of water next to the bed, that he brought too. her brows were furrowed when he withdrew his hands. was this some form of manipulation? it had to be. he wouldn't just do that. she let her guard down before and she fought with herself not to make the same mistake again.

"why are you so surprised?"

his velvety voice cut through the cool air. there was a hint of something in it, that she couldn't quite catch.

silently, she put her clothes back on, not wanting to be so vulnerable. but she was transparent to him already, wasn't she?

"i..." she hesitated "...expected you to take what you wanted and and tell me to leave."

she admitted truthfully. on the contrary, something completely different happened.

there was a pause.

qimir wasn't one to mince words either, so he replied directly. the harshness in his tone was more of a habit than genuine hostility.

"is that what you think of me?"

the question seemed silly to her. of course she did. he was a sith. a merciless sith, that somehow...

for some reason spared her.

"i- i did think that."

yet she wasn't so certain anymore. his attentive caresses were screaming otherwise.

qimir looked at her curiously.

"if you have, why did you let me take you here?"

she opened her mouth, just to close it seconds later. she didn't know herself... there was something about him that lured her in, like a prey. something that made her give herself to him, even if it would be ar her own cost.

or maybe, it was the promises that he had made. ones of freedom and acceptance. something the jedi would never give her if they knew her views on the force. if they knew what grew deep below the surface, rooted in her body. something, that they have inflicted.

even when she almost didn't know him at all, she had a feeling that he would understand her.

"i wanted..." she trailed off. "i wanted closure."

but it wasn't the entire truth. submerging oneself in pleasure and vulnerability, was a forbidden fruit for the jedi, one that she was deprived of for her whole life. and qimir had offered it to her.

he sensed her hesitance, uncertainty, fear.

his knuckles brushed against her cheek, and he tilted her head to look at him, his gaze unwavering.

"what are you afraid of?"

she couldn't look away anymore. run, like she always did.

"our paths are different."

yet she wasn't so sure of it anymore- it sounded like a reminder, but not for him. for herself.

a hint of a smirk tugged at qimir's lips.

"are they?" he questioned. "we are both doomed."

he pointed out, his hand idly tracing her jawline.

everything about him, his voice, his soft skin, and warm brown eyes, made her lean into his touch.

then a bitter thought appeared in her head.

"is this your way of ensuring i won't betray you?"

he let out a chuckle, at the remains of her self-restraint.

"i don't think i have to worry about that."

and he was right. with what he had shown her, what he made her feel...

"no." her answer came quick both because it was true, but also out of...fear. what would he do if she chose to leave?

he hummed in satisfaction. his thumb carresed her lower lip, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she can taste the blood on his hands. same hands that he used to make her see the force itself.

"you kill with such ease." the words that gnawed at her throat, finally left her lips. she stilled after she realised what she just said. that was a wrong move.

but qimir didn't seem affected.

"you knew that before you came to me. have you forgotten who i am?"

she looked down. she wanted to. there was so much contrast within him. how cruel he could be, and how tenderly he chose to treat her.

"no."

her reply came, same as before.

"then why question me now?"

her gaze involuntarily dropped to his full lips when he spoke. she couldn't escape him. and what was worse, she couldn't escape herself.

a smirk appeared on qimir's face when he noticed her looking at his mouth. without a word, he used his hand under her chin to pull her close.

"that's what i thought."

he sounded pleased as he pressed his lips against hers again. and same as before, she didn't pull away. he had her wrapped around his finger.

his first kiss was gentle, just like his demeanor towards her, attentive and careful. so much so it solved, at least temporarily, her inner turmoil. and once she let him do more, parted her lips, he used it, as if he was just waiting for her to give in. his hand moved from it's place under her chin to her neck, firmly enough to keep her in place, but not to make her struggle for breath. not yet, at least.

he urged her backwards, back onto the blankets, his movements decisive, and he followed behind, hoovering over her.

she wasn't dumb, knowing where this would lead. she gathered all of her will to pull away.

"qimir-" her breath was short. "we just-"

she was cut short, by his lips pressing fleetingly to hers, before descending to kiss her throat.

"you can handle it." he hummed against her skin, and she believed him.

satisfied, he let his hand trail down her body, enjoying the softness of her skin, before dipping between her legs.

she couldn't help but press her thighs together, still sensitive from earlier, and he smiled against her. he planted wet kisses on his collarbone and chest. as if trying to prove something to her, he used his knee to separate her legs.

it wasn't long before he left her trembling in his arms again. her eyes were watery from the intensity of the moment.

qimir looked down at her, taking in the sight of her dishelved form. he felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing how far he could push her. he gently brushed away a strand of hair that fell across her face, his touch surprisingly tender.

"alright?"

she nodded, but the same doubts as before gnawed at the pit of her stomach, replacing the warm, fuzzy feeling.

qimir didn't seem to notice, and even if he did, he didn't mention it.

she stayed still, with his arm around her waist. she felt dirty in a sense- there was no going back now. the jedi wouldn't take her in, wouldn't forgive her what she let herself do and feel.

she couldn't look back anymore.

being raised in the temple meant never changing your beliefs nor trust.

and now?

qimir's breathing became even after a long while that felt like hours.

she was the one fearing being left alone before, but the roles have changed now- holding her breath, she sneaked out of his embrace, desperately needing air, that isn't filled with his presence.

her ship was wrecked. she couldn't go there. but surely, surely if she focused, she could take qimir's. it wouldn't be difficult to just break in there...

leaving him for dead on this forsaken planet.

she should've done so. for all the jedi he had killed, for all the damage he has done-

yet she couldn't make herself to do so. his dark mesmerising eyes, and bloody hands that he commited so much evil with, were engraved in her mind, not letting her take another step.

or maybe it was qimir himself, who's presence appeared behind her.

of course he'd find her. she swallowed, and forced herself to sound firm.

"am i not allowed to leave?"

she swore she could see him tilt his head stupidly-

"leave or run?" he sounded calm, despite probably knowing her intentions.

she clenched her fists, cursing him.

"i needed to clear my head."

he crossed his arms. stubborn as ever, yet he could see through her. so much anger, disappointment with the order. just like his younger self...

"clear your head from what? from me?"

"maybe." she huffed, finally facing him. "you're in there too often." he could, and have, in fact, get into her head- during fighting and...not only that, seemingly.

qimir didn't deny it. she was intriguing, from the moment they fought for the first time in the ruined temple. her suppressed emotions, that spilled, when she almost buried him alive.

"yet you let me inside of more than just your head."

he remarked.

she tensed. oh, yes, she has, twice today already.

amusement flickered in qimir's eyes, and he moved closer, predator-like.

"and you enjoyed it." his voice was slow and deliberate, making sure she heard every sylabe.

she couldn't even deny that, the noises she made, and pleas she whispered, testifying against her. she took in a breath.

"your point?"

qimir took in her angry, helpless form. she had the resilience of a jedi, that was for sure. but it was only a matter of time until he breaks it down.

"my point is, you want me. you enjoy being with me. why try to run?"

there it was. the confrontation she wanted to avoid throughout all her years of being a jedi. she was raised to be pure, perfect and unwavering. but she wasn't. there must be something wrong with her, right?

she didn't feel like there was in his presence. she felt as if she found one of her own. but still...

"im not used to..." she gestured between them. "this."

qimir's eyes continued to study her, his gaze never leaving her face. he could sense her uneasiness, her uncertainty, practically taste her internal battle- the struggle between her jedi past, and the newfound emotions.

"to what? being desired? being wanted?"

her mouth went dry as he openly admitted that he desired her. this couldn't possibly be wrong, by how it made her feel.

"no need to be afraid. you're not with the order anymore. you're with me."

qimir's voice was laced with honey and as persuasive as ever. how could she say no to these chocolate eyes? how could he be bad, when he made her feel so good?

cold and warm tides in the ocean mixed together, creating waves that crashed onto the shore. waves that over time carved the rocks, that were able to make them fall.

and so have they.

masterlist

[michaelceraifhewasagirl]

I accidentally assaulted Clarisse

NEW SERIES ALERT

summary: A new girl at camp, but…. She’s different..

warnings: minimal swearing

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

Ow. “Ow” is a onomatopoeia, I think, but it didn’t matter if I was grammatically correct, because I had just hit Clarisse La Rue in the head with a rubber axe during practice with the Stoll brothers, and she was now sitting on the ground in a fetal position, holding her head in agony, and staring at me with anger in her eyes.

“Oh my God” I muttered under my breath, as I slowly backed away. “Avery, come back, she’s, she’s not going to hurt you!” Connor Stoll pleaded, but then Clarisse began to get off of the grass and I sprinted towards the strawberry fields. I looked around frantically, trying to see if Clarisse was still following me, but then I caught a glimpse of Beckendorf scolding Clarisse, and I visibly relaxed. 

Okay, quick Backstory: two days ago I nearly got killed by a big bear-wolf thing. A goat-child told me that my mom fucked a Greek God and I’m the offspring. If that makes sense. I thought my mom was Hindu, can multiple Gods exist at once? Anyways, the goat guy brought me back to this cool camp and I got to talk to a horse man and a LITERAL GREEK GOD but he was an asshole so I don’t really care about him to be honest. Fast forward to now, this is my first day training, and I somehow managed to injure 5 people, including myself. 

I was sitting down under a tree, trying to catch my breathe after running a fricking marathon trying to not get stabbed by Clarisse, when I noticed one of the Stoll brothers coming up to me, Connor, was it? “Hey, Avery,” he greeted 

“My name is Aikaterini”

“…Can I call ya’ Avery?”

“No”

“Fair enough,” he nodded, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” I responded “She’s just… She’s terrifying” and Connor chuckled.

“She’s not that scary, give her a chance, she’s tolerable” he said, and gave me his hand to take to get up off of the dirt, and I took it and dusted off my pants when I was off my butt, “She wants to kill me” I retorted and Connor grimaced. “Stay outta trouble, okay? And be careful”, I nodded and he offered a hand on my shoulder as comfort before heading off somewhere to scold an Ares kid, or kill a small child, one of the two.

I awkwardly walked to the Hermes cabin, in which I was staying in, since my father hadn’t claimed me as yet. I hope he does. I heard a lot of undetermined kids get stuck at the Hermes cabin because their bitch-ass parents didn’t claim them. Anyways, I was like, an Inch away from the cabin, before the boat goy came up to me, wait, no that didn’t sound right, anyways, he came up to me, “Chiron needs to talk to you” he said and he practically dragged me by my arm towards a big building “Who’s Chiro- woah! Okay, so I guess I don’t get to say no”

We arrived inside the building and I paled at the sight of the old horse guy. “Aikaterini Balakrishnan, how are you? Getting along well with the rest of camp?” I could tell that he was trying to make conversation, but I couldn’t focus when there was a 7-foot centaur standing infront of me “I… uh… yeah” was what I managed to choke out before glancing around the room, and noticing that the asshole of a Greek God was sitting at the table, with a irritable look on his face and I rolled my eyes.

The centaur sat down on his hind legs and offered me a seat at the table, where I noticed that they were playing a card game “You’re playing Pinochle.” Chiron raised an eyebrow “Why, yes, do you know how to play?” “Yeah, my mom taught me, well, actually, she taught me Bezique, but I taught myself how to play Pinchole” Chiron nodded in approval “You know how to play Bezique as well, that is quite impressive for a girl your age” I blushed in embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess, why did you call me in here?” “Ah,” he put down his pack of cards and looked at me.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” He asked

“Friday” I responded confidently

“Yes!” He clapped his hands excitedly and I squinted my eyes “Huh?” Mr. D groaned and stepped out of the room, and Chiron waved him away “Don’t take him on. Tomorrow is Friday! Which means we are playing capture the flag!” He explained and I pursed my lips “You guys actually do things in this place besides trying to impale people or set people on fire?” And Chiron grimaced, “Now now, girl, what happened yesterday with Sanya was a mistake, she was just trying to make a sword and her hair caught on fire, it was a, what is it you children say now-a-days? No biggie” I raised my eyebrows “So why don’t you go find a group to be apart of, huh? Get out there, make some friends, I heard you were training with the Stoll brothers, cheeky bastards, aren’t they?” I furrowed my eyebrows “No, no, they aren’t cheeky, they seem really nice” I said and Chiron chuckles, “That is until they steal a family heirloom from you” “Why would they steal from me?” Chiron seemed suprised I didn’t know about these things, “Aikaterini, their father is Hermes, the God of thievery” “I thought he was the God of messengers?”

Chiron looked at me with a thoughtful look on his face, “Has your mother not thought you anything about your roots?” “Not really, I’m Hindu, I grew up believing in Hindu Gods, now, I don’t know what I believe.” If my mother knew that, that Greek Gods are real, and not just fiction, then why would she grow me up with a religion?” “I am sure your mother had her reasons, that of which, I do not know, but you will come to find out anyways, now, I’d like you to meet some people, if that’s okay with you,” I nodded. Chiron called the goat boy, in which I learnt his name, being Grover, into the room, “Yes?” “It would be appreciated if you could kindly locate our respective leaders, those being one for Team Blue and another for Team Red." Grover nodded and came back into the room shortly with a two girls, a pretty one, with long box braids, and then Clarisse.

“Ladies, we have a new camper joining us, I’m sure you have seen her around, I am going to be making a public announcement soon, tomorrow, before the tournament, but for now, you can introduce yourself to her, and maybe recruit her to your team,” Chiron smiled and I looked at them and awkwardly waved, “Hi, uhm, hi Clarisse, sorry for hitting you, uhm, at- at the uh, the axe throwing thing, sorry” I swallowed nervously “My name is Aikaterini, it’s long, I know, you can call me, Kat, or whatever” my voice cracked and I made a mental note to hit myself in the head with a bat later.

“Hi, I’m Annabeth, I’m blue team leader” “You’re not joining the red team”

“Clarisse.” Chiron butted in, “Atleast see what she can do before you make a decision, now go on, bond, I want to finish this game of Pinochle.” We left the building and Annabeth made conversation “So, do you have any special training? Or any training at all?” “Uhm, I can do kumon?” Annabeth looked at me, a puzzled look rested on her face “What is that?” “It’s like… maths” and Clarisse snorted, Annabeth glared at her, “I mean, physical combat. Do you know any form of self defence?” “I, I can dance?” Clarisse butted in “Yeah, no, Annabeth, you can have her on your team.” I looked down in embarrassment, God, I wanna go home. “What kind of dance can you do? Ballet?” “Kuchipudi,” “Okay, I don’t know what that is, how hard do you have to train for that?” “Not as hard as ballet, probably, but if you saw me do it you would be terrified” “You can’t be any scarier than any monster I’ve ever fought, if you put the same energy that you put into dancing into training, then you’ll be a pro in no time” 

I smiled at her, she was nice, unlike Clarisse, who was walking away, I didn’t mind though, being on the blue team seemed like the better choice. I guess we’ll see how the tournament goes tomorrow, but for now, I’m going see if I’m any good at hand-to-hand combat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hey guise 😁 I hope you enjoyed the first part of this Pjo fandom seriesssss 💗💗 nones of the characters in this stories except my oc’s (Aikaterini Balakrishnan) that were used in the story so far are mine. I wanted to add a Desi character to this story because they don’t get enough recognition 💗💗 Please lmk what you think about this in the comments and lmk what else you would liek to see in this series 💗 idrk where I’m going with this but I am not gonna let this story go to waste, I’ll try to get it done but I got school and stuff so 😪😪 thanks for reading 💗

[mayullla]

Title: Another daughter

Character(s): Mozus Trein (Twisted wonderland)

Summary: Including Yuu, it seems that Crowley had found a small child too playing in the gardens of the school. Not knowing what to do with the little girl he gave you to the professors to deal with while he excused himself. They didn't know what to do with you at first but it seems that you slowly shackled their hearts.

Warnings/tags: Child! fem! reader, this is mainly fluff with tints of platonic yandere so obsession and possessive themes

Many wondered where the head mage went off to when the mirror was appointing each student to their new dorms. While the Prefects acted natural some not even caring a lot of the students could see the frustration in some of the teacher's faces as they continued to look at the door waiting for the headmage to come back from looking for a new student.

He was late, taking a while to find this student that supposedly ran away from the ceremony.

So when everyone thought that maybe he would not come the doors opened revealing the headmage and... some company.

It was the student that he seemed to be looking for… as well as a cat... and something in his ar- Why was the headmage holding a child!?

Crewel was so close to lashing out at the headmage at the whole situation but was somehow able to hold it in glaring at the poor man who had to explain where he went to the prefects telling the new student to stand on the platform as the cat gets kicked out of the building and then was unable to be sorted into a dorm because the student was magicless.

The small bundle from his arms laughed cheerfully at the whole situation. No one was able to get their eyes off the whole situation it was a mess.

A mess!

Yet somehow... somehow everything worked out in the end, as Crowley sent all the students away also telling this magicless student to wait as he hands the teacher the small kid that he found.

Almost all the teachers were glaring at him telling him to explain what happened the time he was gone, except he gave the most half-hearted hurried answer tossing the small child that he found in Crewel's arms and making a run for it to the magicless student.

"Won't you explain yourself?" Professor Trein's voice was low quiet but threatening as he glanced at the kid in the headmage's arms.

"Look I am as confused as you are. But look after this child for me while I deal with the other for now." Crowley started flustered "The small child is just the same as that magicless student and I can't seem to send her back too!"

Quickly the headmage managed to escape with the magicless student leaving in an empty room the teachers as they stare at the small body that was held in Crewel's arms. The doe-like eyes stared back at them, looking around rather confused.

They soon found out that you were from another world, that like that other student, you didn't belong here and were unfortunately unable to go back. "How did you come here little one?" "Hmmm? I don't remember... I just saw this big carriage that was pulled by a horsie that was soo cool!" You told them waving your hands to show how big it was. "It was so pretty!"

"What should we do with her then?" Sam asked pointing at you. "I am not really sure. To be honest, I still need to do some research to send them back to their own world." The headmage frowned as he crossed his arms, trying to think of some sort of idea about what they should do with you.

"Hah, you aren't saying that we must take care of the child? We already have to look after the students." Professor Trien sternly said, Lucius that cat meowed almost as if agreeing with his master.

"But then I must pay to send her to the orphanage, I need to keep up a face...." Crewel mumbled to himself reasoning as to what he should do with you, the voice was getting smaller and smaller as he continued to weights the pros and cons.

"What is he doing?" You asked Professor Vargas now in his arms after Crewel quickly tossed you to him.

"-Yes! Yes. Let's keep her here after all she was called here by the mirror so it should be our duty to take care of her and watch over her till she could get back home. Yes Most certainly, I am the most charitable person alive for doing this."

So somehow in the end much too many professors' headaches. You were to be watched over by one of them as the headmage figured out how to send you back to your world. Crewel threatened and so did the other teachers that the headmage better find the way back, leaving the headmage stuttering a promise that he would.

"So who is watching over the puppy first?" Crewel asked, Vargas was first to say that he would help, stating that he would train you to be fit and to build muscles just as his which was promptly ignored when they glanced at your small frame tinier than the man who was holding you and if not careful could probably squash you.

"Huff... I will take care of the small child. Unlike you lots I have daughters of my own that I took care of. She will be better off in my watch." Trein sighed as he told the other professors that he would be the one to watch over you. It made multiple teachers sigh in relief as they themselves didn't want to watch over you so seeing that someone actually volunteered for the positions made their hearts at ease.

Vargas placed you down telling you to head over to the professor who had a frown on his face looking at you. Most of the teachers wondered if you would be frightened by him seeing that he was after all feared by many of his students.

But took one glance at him and smaller cheerfully "Hello mister! What is your name? Your cat is so pretty and very fluffy!"

The cat made a dry meow at your comment while the professor himself stared at you. Quiet both of you were for a moment leaving the teacher anxious as to what would happen next but the professor only huffed stating his name as well as introducing the other teachers in the room along with the headmage.

"Follow me young one for now on you will be with me."

So you did.

It was interesting, to say the least... as the students all watched you follow Professor Trein wherever he went. Staying in a corner of a room drawing or maybe even studying after the professor made you something to do instead of sleeping in all his class feeling bored.

His steps slowed down a little for you giving the students a chance to run and make it to their next class with him. And while this was something none of the students believed when one of the guys saw it, they saw Trien have a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

Only to turn it back down to a frown when he noticed someone staring at him.

It was almost a funny image as you carried Lucius around in your arms. The cat was too big for you almost touching the floor with its hind feet while you carry it around. They wondered why the cat has yet to hiss at you some even trying to get you away from the cat only to be hissed at.

It was funny for most of the teachers really when you would ask Trein many questions, many that were really dumb while some repetitive. The cat Lucius tucked in your arms meowing in dislike at the fact that you are treating it almost like a doll yet at the same time rather looked rather comfortable.

And while they would laugh a bit if not pity the old professor they felt like they were silenced when they saw the affectionate smile the man had on his face when he looks at you. When you would eat a cupcake and have cake crumbs in your mouth, the old professor would lightly scoff at you while cleaning your mouth with a napkin he took everywhere with him.

They have heard that he had two children both of who were already old. That he was the one who take care of them alone as he was a widow. And pondered if all this affection was because of his past.

While they knew about it they never really saw it in their mind that Professor Trein would act so affectionate when he was so strict with all his students.

Vargas saw how the old man always glance back when he thought that nobody was looking to check to see if you were following along and not getting lost after you gasp at the students flying in broomsticks. You lightly pulled on the professor's clothes asking him if people could fly on broomsticks and if you too can also become a witch.

The old professor told that while yes people here learn how to handle flying on a broomstick he would not let you fly on them just yet stating that you were still too young to fly on them and that maybe in the future you could. The hope in your eyes as you raise your pinky finger asking him to do the same. You asked him to make a pinky promise with you and while the professor looked down at you for a moment he then squatted with one knee touching the floor as he raised his pinky finger.

The scene made a few students who were flying on brooms bump into each other in shock at what they saw. Some were unable to control their brooms when they saw the old man get down and show his pinky finger to you. Really that class had a lot of accidents as even some who were on the ground got hurt because they didn't check the sky to see another person on the broom heading towards them unknowingly as they continued to stare at the two of you in shock.

While Vargas had sent almost half of the students to the infirmary he could not get that memory of his mind while it was cute of a situation if not that mildly amusing. He could not help but wonder if it was alright to lie to a small child like you when you would at one point be sent to your home world where magic isn't real. That you would not be able to hop on a broom one day and fly.

You didn't belong to this world and you need to go back home. And making a promise like that was rather cruel.

But it seems that Professor Trein had a different idea. Because to him, you belonged to him now. You were his own daughter. 

It was a slow thing at first, he only looked after you because it was a duty that he placed himself in. He was the only one who could probably watch over you, lacking fate for the headmage or others to take care of a small child and not care for their needs. It was slow but he started to care for you as much as his own children, he grew to miss the past when they were small enough to fit in his arms.

There were too many mistakes that he had made in the past, as a single parent, and while if he could he wished to go back to the past he knew that it wasn't something possible less he wanted to pay a big price.

He thought that he could use his past mistakes as an advantage to watch over you better than he had done in the past with his own two children. When did he start to become obsessed over it was hard to pinpoint.

He treasured you, he treasure you so much as you followed him around with his cat right beside you. 

You had become a chance where he could right his wrongs.

Note: Yes I did write something similar to this and it is here. Only that this is more Professor Trein focused. Hope you liked it!

[tdinyomomma]

TDWT- Cody X Reader- The Award Winning Actress (Chapter One)

“[Name] you look good, let’s go.” My agent shouted from outside my room as she was heading in.

 I roll my eyes, placing a medical mask on my face. Due to me going to a crowded award show there was no way I was not wearing it. I normally don’t unless there’s a huge, huge crowd. I also had a mini hand sanitizer on the belt loop of my jeans but I always have that on me. 

“I know I look good but people need to know it’s me showing up.” I step back from the mirror and check myself out.

“I’m sorry hun, but you’re the only actress I know that shows up to crowded places like this wearing a mask. I think they’ll recognize you perfectly.” She comes up, rubbing my arm. 

“Also, the limo is waiting so come on.”

I let out a breath, following her out of the building.

We get to the award show, I step out of the limo, immediately cameras are flashing. I notice a girl with magenta hair jump over the rope and excitedly runs up to me. 

“You’re [Name] [Last Name]!” She yells grinning, I awkwardly smile from beneath the mask. 

“Uhm, yes?” I glance around, wondering why no security has snatched her up from the carpet. “I’m Sierra! Huge fan, besides all my total drama blogs I have like six of you!” She exclaims, trying to grab my hands but I back away. 

“Thank you?” I raise a brow, this girl seems psycho. “Did you know Total Drama would be here tonight?” She asks me. 

“Who?” I adjust my mask, then fold my arms at my chest.

“Chris McLean’s reality show cast!” She says and that’s all I needed. 

That Chris guy begged me to go on his show in the first season, and second but of course I was too busy for that. I had upcoming big movies I was starring in. But for this next season no one knows that my agent actually signed me up for it since I don’t have anything coming up anytime soon. I wanted to take a break but it’s whatever I guess.

“Oh, right. I’ve heard of that.” I nod my head. 

“I need to get inside though, thank you for the questions.” I politely moved past her, “Of course! I love you [Name]!” She screams after me and I wince from the noise.

I get inside of the building, getting to my seat and I look at the names of who I am sitting by. I let out a tiny groan seeing “Chris McLean” in bold letters.

“Oh,” He pops up behind me, taking a sip of some drink. “What’s up, [Name]!” He goes to high five me but I stare at him. 

“Right, germaphobe, not liking of the germs.” He slyly puts his hand into him pants pocket. I look around him, “Where’s your cast?” I scrunch my face in confusion. 

“Right over there, sweetheart.” He points to a table full of… different looking people, well one is a fucking bear and another is a gorilla. My eyes widen then I turn back to him and give a dirty look. “I was told I was working with humans, Chris.” I glare at him. He gets closer to me.

“Don’t worry, we’re using the original crew but I gotta get attention somehow.” He winks, I unconsciously sigh, and I hear him chuckle underneath his breath.

We take our seats just as the music starts. It was very long, and boring. I won three Gemmy awards, which were my only nominations so I finally got to sit back at my seat and watch the rest of the show.

One of the guys that came in with Chris was now on the stage announcing the next award. 

“Next up, best reality ensemble!” He grins, holding a white card. “Envelope please? And the winner is….” The drumroll plays as the dude takes forever to open the damn thing. 

“Golden Oldies in their undies!” He throws his hand up, we all cheer for the winning ensemble. Once it calms down there’s just one more announcement. 

“And the Gemmy for the best reality show host goes to, once again. Chris McLean!” The guy shouts, Chris gets up from his seat, walking onto the stage. 

“Wow, hey, thanks again.” He laughs. “But I couldn’t have done it without a great bunch of people from Total Drama Action. The interns, the caterers, the camera crew, and the real stares of the show, my stylists.” I look around but nobody questions why he didn’t thank the teens that even joined the show, also we’re supposedly lied to about what it even was.

“Tomorrow, I’ll introduce the cast of my new reality series, Total Drama Dirtbags on the Orpha show.” He smiles cheekily, he goes back to sit at our table.

The next day, I’m on the bus with that one random crew Chris has. 

Suddenly another bus hits ours from the side, knocking the boy who I learned is named Alejandro from his lazy driving into a more serious and focused one. He looks panicked as he grabs the wheel, I lean up behind his seat. 

“What’s happening?” I questioned. “If I knew, don't you think I would have a handle on it, princess?” He snaps back and I squint my eyes, the bus now in front of us, the back emergency door swings open to reveal some goth girl.

 Then she moves and some caramel or chocolate candy splats onto our front window.

After the second splat Alejandro turns on the wipers. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this!” He shouts, now fully focused in. 

“Ha! You messed with the wrong reality show cast, mister!” A girl wearing a maroon red crop top smirks.

The red eyed gorilla growls, throwing his fist in the air outside of the bus, but instead of being intimidating he got chocolate and caramel to the face. I cross my arms watching in disgust.

“Can you do something?” I quizzed, wanting to take over the stupid bus but I didn’t know how many germs were on that steering wheel. “Just watch, princess.” He goes back to his lazy driving, earning some sort of cool back as the cheap bus in front of us was going off of the road now.

My eyes widened, noticing the cliff that they were just feet away from now, a tire popped off on the right side as well. “They aren’t gonna make it.” I grab onto Alejandro, squeezing my eyes shut, hearing the sound of the bus tipping over.

After the silence of not hearing a crash, I carefully open my eyes, glancing over to see Alejandro smirking, I shove him away causing him to grunt and I use a lot of hand sanitizer. 

“Gross.” I mumble.

Alejandro kept driving though, he didn’t even stop to see if they were okay. 

That whole night it was on my mind… sort of. If they’re dead or hopefully just injured it meant I didn’t have to do this stupid show. No offense to them but I have better things to do then win a decimal percentile of the amount of money I have.

Did you guys forget, I am a world famous, award winning actress?

Anywho, the next day I guess Chris went and got most of the teens, he took us to this set and had Alejandro and I cook pancakes. Me… cook pancakes. I don’t know what my agent signed me up for but I am certainly not liking this treatment.

Al and I take plates of the pancakes and place them down, well I slam them down pretty much. Alejandro goes back to the kitchen but I just sit down at one of the tables, watching the teens gawk from my existence. 

I smile a little bit but before they can even say anything or fangirl Chris decides to declare something. “I have an announcement.” He grins, “Now we all know that nobody does drama like you guys.” He then winks at me and I roll my eyes. 

“Duh, but what happened to Total Drama Dirtbags? And why is a world famous actress here with us?” That one girl that wore the maroon red crop top from before questions the host. 

“It was a trick, there never was any Total Drama Dirtbags.” Alejandro speaks up from the kitchen. Someone’s salty. 

“Is that true?” She asks. 

“Well, mostly.” Chris shrugs.

“I did come up with the name. But anywho, I needed to find out if you kids still had it.” Chris does finger guns. 

“What about Alejandro? And again why is this world famous actress here?” The girl repeats herself, and I’m thinking she doesn’t really like the fact that she had to.

“A dupe just like the rest of you. I needed someone on the inside. But to make it up, I told him he can join you guys next time. And about [Name] here-” 

“He begged for me to be on the show, calling and emailing my agent and even my parents. He got my agent at a good time and I guess I had an opening so she signed me up on a contract I can’t back out of.” I cut him off, leaning back against the table.

“Whoa! You have your own lip gloss line!” A blonde yells from across the room, startling me, she was excitedly clapping her hands. I nod but before I can speak up a kid spoke up. 

“Hold on, what next time?” Noah asks, I only know his name because he was Chris’s assistant one of the times they came to my agent’s office.

“A no-holds-barred race around the world in a jet!” The host declares, chuckling.

“After all the crap you put us through? As if.” That goth girl scoffs. 

“Don’t you wanna be famous again?” Chris taunts, basically holding bait over their head. 

“Pass.” A boy with a green mohawk says, hands behind his head. 

“What about cash?” He pulls out two large green bags of money. “The chance to win, oh, one million dollars?” After those words they all start cheering.

I was again hoping they stuck to not wanting to do this but oh well. I guess we’re celebrating now.

“Looks like I’m back for another season. And I’ll be keeping a much closer eye on Gwen. So not trusting that boyfriend stealer.” Courtney proclaims.

Harold puts his arm around Leshawna who gasps. “Get your hands off of me.” She shoves him. He falls to the ground. “Oh, I thought we could form an alliance. Check it.” He gets back up and starts beatboxing, even putting her name in it. She slaps a hand over his mouth to stop him from going any further.

“OMG, this is my first confessional ever. I am so excited. I never thought I would be on Total Drama, my favorite show in the whole world. And I’m doing it with [Name] [Last Name] my all time favorite actress! Talking to all my favorite tv stars is so fab.” Sierra grins. “Now I will finally put to rest all those Cody and [Name] blog questions like how many freckles does Cody have on his back? What kind of shampoo and perfume does [Name] use? How many times does Cody sleep facing west? And what songs do they sing in the shower!?? Ohh, my. That last question will definitely be a six-month analysis. Oh yeah!” Sierra the official new weird girl, stalker thinking about her two celebrity crushes.

“Ho, ho, homies. Get in the focus and take notice. I’m what is. Oh, yeah, that’s show biz, uh-uh-uh-uh-uh huh!” Ezekiel tris to be smooth by leaning back but ends up falling backwards.

“I miss you already Geoff! Wait for me, schmoopie poo! I’m gonna win it for both of us!” Bridgette then holds her face, crying into her hands.

“You know what they say. Third time lucky. This could be my season!” Gwen points to herself confidently.

“Hey, I’m game. Bring it, Chris.” Duncan swings around a knife before stabbing it into the vanity in front of him.

“Watch out, Total Drama nerds. The new guy is going all the way to the top.” Alejandro points a finger in the camera.

“Don’t you worry, mama. I’m gonna win this one and buy you a big old house and maybe a new bus.” DJ rubs the back of his head.

“Mm, pancakes.” Owen disgustingly eats, squirting syrup into his mouth.

“I can’t wait to find out where we’re going first. 23 percent of my bloggers say we’re going to India. And 10 percent say that Chris is lying to us and that he’s actually going to film us in an old bomb shelter. Ha! As if.” Sierra blows raspberries, not believing it. 

“I’m a third generation Chris McLean scholar okay? I could tell if he’s lying to us by his vocal range and body language. Only someone who has an extensive knowledge of Total Drama could catch that. BTW did you know Chris wears 32x31 pants? And only buys them at strutty’s pants and jewelers? He also has three dogs named Banjo, Todd and-” 

“Sierra, get out, I have to go next.” [Name] is heard from the outside of the dressing room. Sierra's eyes light up. “That’s [Name]! Ah! OMG!” She fangirls. [Name] enters the room with a bored expression. 

“Before I go, did you know [Name] is from France!” Wee- wee!” She giggles but then [Name] is standing over her, sighing. 

“Go, please.” The actress points to the door. 

“Oh right! Of course! Want me to wipe down the seat? I know you’re a germaphobe because when you were a kid you-” “Get. Out.” She cuts the psycho girl off and the taller girl finally leaves, giggling.

[Name] lets out a breath, quickly wiping the seat down and just as she sits down the camera dies.

First chapter is out! also I was supposed to post this last night but I was super sleepy and ended up sleeping almost my whole day away after work so. I apologize but here this is. I hope to maybe get another chapter out tonight but it might be tomorrow and then the next day will be a post for Heather's story:)

Link to other writings

taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

@marsyay78

@ghostdoodlen

@tulipatheticee

[caesarinsalata]

[BLOOD WARNING!] PART 1

Strap in for another short read!

I was planning to wait to post this, but I'm curious how this will translate to people 🤔

Part 1: 5 years later

“Hohenheim! Where is Hohenheim?!”

King Xerxes punched the arm of his throne, coughing right after. His subjects frantically whispered amongst themselves. Wondering who last saw Hohenheim.

“Your highness! He’s here!”

Hohenheim came into the throne room escorted by a guard, not looking too happy.

“Hohenheim! You know I detest waiting.” Drumming his fingers.

Hohenheim sighs, stepping up to the base stair of the throne platform. “Yes, yes, I know, your highness. What was it that you needed? I’m very busy with many of your requests.”

The King exhales through his nose. “I’ll choose to overlook that tone. How close are we to immortality? I haven’t got forever, Hohenheim.”

Hohenheim clears his throat, wiping his hands on his clothes. He hated these updates the King forced him to report every other day like this sort of thing he was attempting to give him was achievable overnight. “Your Highness, we’ve been through this. It takes time to gather the resources and the science is complicated.”

“You’re-” The King coughs into the back of his hand. “You’re just making excuses! Where is that Dwarf? He knows a lot more than you and doesn’t make excuses!”

“Everything we know about this immortality nonsense is from him! Of course he’d know!” Hohenheim was getting frustrated with this whole immortality thing! At first he was all for helping The King, but the more information he gathered about this supposed immortality was just driving their King crazy. Crazier than he already was, he didn’t particularly favor their King as the years went on. Too many people were way too obsessed with this immortality thing once their age began to surface.

“Hohenheim.” The King suddenly stood up. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“The Dwarf has already told you how this will work! It’s bound to take a handful of years. Especially when you order the death of your own people from all across the country!” Hohenheim was getting irritated. Why did he go along with this make believe? No King should live forever regardless. Being in power had a nasty habit of corrupting people.

“Hohenheim! Have you forgotten your place? Need I remind you? I am your King!” The King had a coughing fit and sat back down. The nearby subjects inched closer in worry. Wheezing out the words, “I’m fine…” and glaring down at Hohenheim. Seeming to think of something devilish, he turned to his right hand guard. Glancing to Hohenheim. “I think you need a reminder…” Clapping his hands at the guard signaling him to leave.

“What does that mean? Your Highness, just be reasonable!”

“We’re passed that now, Hohenheim. You obviously need some inspiration and a reminder of your mortality.”

Hohenheim was just confused now.

Moments later the guard returned with an 11 year old holding his hand. It was Edward. But he wasn’t bothered to look up from his book he was holding in his other hand. He was guided to the middle of the throne room.

“Edward? Why is he here?” Only then, Ed looked up and around. Not really caring about whatever was going on right now. His gaze went from the King to Hohenheim then back down to his book. “Your Highness, he can’t be in here.”

“You’ve left me no choice, Hohenheim. You obviously haven't sacrificed enough yet to understand the gravity of what immortality will do for this empire!”

Hohenheim’s breath caught in his throat. “What are you planning to do?”

“Don’t worry, I won't kill your eldest son.”

“Wha-?” Hohenheim lurched forward but was stopped by the other guards. “Ed! Get out of here!”

Edward whipped his head up, startled by Hohenheim’s exclamation. Feeling the tension in the room, he was only able to tug at the guards hold on him. “What the- What the hells going on here?” Dropping his book when another guard grabbed his other ar. He fought against their hold to no avail. Guided to the ground, they held him down despite his kicking and cursing.

“Good timing too. You haven’t been teaching your boy proper manners. Proceed.”

“What are you doing??!!” Hohenheim fought against the guards holding him back, one of them elbowing him in the gut causing him to double over.

A guard unsheathed his sword and stepped closer to Edward.

Understanding the situation finally, Edward’s eyes grew wide. He was suddenly scared out of his mind. “Get that thing away from me! What the hell is this?!”

“Ugh,” The King groaned, leaning his head on his hand. “Children are nothing but annoying nuisances.”

The guard held the sword in both hands over his head. Edward could tell from his face he didn’t wanna do this. Whatever it was he was going to do to him, it wasn’t going to be anything good for Ed. He couldn’t hear Hohenheim yelling his name while he struggled against four guards. His heart throbbed in his ear.

This is bad.

He’s got to move.

He’s got to do /something/.

NOW!

Ed started to kick and scream more ferociously, startling the guard and throwing him off his aim. Depending on what he was actually aiming for, that is. The sword came down and all Ed could hear was his screams and the slice of metal getting clean through flesh and bone. He choked on his own tongue when the sudden pain sent a shock through him. A moment of silence passed over him before he sucked in as much air as possible, stifling a choked gasp and screamed from the top of his lungs. The guards had let go of him and backed away, guilt plastered all over their faces. His hands shot down to his dismembered leg. Trying to lift himself to see how bad it was, the color of deep red was all he could see. Everywhere. All over the place. Barely making out Hohenheim sprinting right at him, tears in his eyes. He lifted Ed's upper half up, desperately trying to keep him from passing out, but the shock and pain were too much for such a small boy to handle.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO SAY ANYTHING BABE"

Another Logan story, cause why not honestly

(Here you have another soft and cute story about him @loganhowlettshousewife I hope you like it) 🧡

Logan has stolen Scott's bike, again.

But this time there is an explanation.

He had a date.

It turns out that the new chemistry teacher at the X-Mansion had not been oblivious to the glances he threw at her when they met in the hallways as she had led him to believe. Logan knew that she had feelings for him. He didn't know exactly if it was curiosity, fear or simply friendly affection.

Every time they talked, the sweet smell of tension that emanated was palpable, so he decided to ask her to spend the day together.

Despite being a teacher, a job that requires you to be outgoing, she was shy with him. Her blushes were common every time she spoke to him and her tongue was tangled, thus demonstrating how much his closeness affected her.

Howlett didn't think she would accept, but to his surprise she did.

That's how they had ended up on Scott's bike, heading to the forest outside the city. Logan wanted to take her to a specific place, so he left the bike in the parking lot and gestured for her to follow him.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked once. "You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?"

"Believe me, princess," he murmured. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd know."

"Don't say that," she whispered timidly. Logan stopped, leaning against a tree in a casual manner.

"What?" he asked amused.

"Princess," he muttered, blushing violently. "I don't like you calling me that."

"Okay, keep lying to yourself," he paused. "Princess," he concluded, leading the way again.

"Logan!" she shrieked after him. He smiled amused. "How much longer?"

"We're there," he said, looking at the landscape in front of them.

She gaped at the image before her. It was a river.

A river in the middle of the forest. And he had brought her there.

"Logan," she murmured, moved. He could see the exact moment when one of the walls behind which she was hiding broke before him. "It's beautiful," she whispered, looking at him. "How did you know of its existence?"

"I came to see it a few days ago," he said. "In one of our conversations, you said that you felt more comfortable surrounded by your element." He pointed to the water and the plants. "This place seemed the most suitable for our date."

"Thank you," she whispered, noticing how her heart warmed inside her chest. "It's very kind of you."

The young woman raised her wrist with her palm facing up. Instantly, the plants in the place responded to her call, stretching and contracting until they formed a fluffy towel where they could both sit. Logan sat down next to her.

For the first few minutes, they devoted themselves to observing the river in silence. They just stood there listening to the sound of the water hitting the rocks, as well as the whistling of the air between the branches of the trees.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the silence. He watched her closely. "I'm supposed to say something, but I really don't know what to say." He sighed. "I'm not very good at these things."

"You don't have to say anything, babe," he reassured her. "It's okay."

"Okay," she sighed, raising her wrist again, this time to draw water from the river toward her.

Logan watched in fascination as she shaped the water into a rose. She handed it to him.

"It's for you," he said, "as a thank you for what you've done for me."

"It's beautiful," he whispered, holding it in his hand.

Suddenly, the air became thicker between them. Logan could feel his pulse racing, the blood pooling in his cheeks and lower abdomen.

-Logan… -she whispered as he slowly approached her lips without touching them-

-Hm? -she murmured, looking away from her eyes to her mouth-

-Kiss me -she muttered, causing a guttural growl to come out of Logan's throat-

His lips connected with hers in a tender kiss full of need. He held her face in his hands, bringing her closer to him, while she put her arms around his neck to support herself. He could feel her muscles contracting under his touch.

Suddenly Logan felt a great torrent of water soak them both. He separated from her for a few moments, holding her by the shoulders. The river water had poured over them, which had only one plausible explanation.

-I'm sorry -she murmured, looking at him with shame reflected in her eyes- when I'm nervous, it's hard to control my powers

-So nervous, huh, princess? -she smiled mischievously- I wouldn't call it that, I'd say you're…

-Don't you dare say it, Mr. Howlett -she reprimanded him, raising her index finger in the attitude of an angry teacher, which only excited Logan-

-Okay, I won't say it -she whispered, approaching his mouth again-

[sorikkung]

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 5: attitude? right back at you!

word count: 9.2k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: lots of manhandling, bondage, mild cnc, edging, overstimulation, usage of vibrators, lots of powerplay (brat taming)

a/n: gonna start putting a/ns at the bottom now so the posts don't get too long!

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

prev | masterlist | next | character checkpoint!

“Oh, there you ar-“ 

“You.” 

The anger slashed all across Chan’s face dims slightly just at seeing Felix again, and it reminds you of the very same face Eric gives him – hell, even Changbin. It’s no wonder he acts like an entitled brat when it comes down to it, if he’s so used to everyone tripping over their feet to fawn all over his pretty face and stupid freckles, but he’s in for an ice-cold awakening to the fact that not everyone will fall for his charms so easily. No, leaving him high and dry isn’t enough – you need to rub salt in the wound and piss on it. 

Chan only gets to look at you with a split-second of surprise before you’re grabbing him by the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt and yanking him away from his argument with Eric, who says something that sounds mildly appalled but you pay it no mind, instead hyperaware of the daggers Felix glares into your skin from the side. He’s clearly waiting for you to try something, and so is Chan, body fully tense and sizing you up, trying to stand taller to give him more of an angle to look down at you from. 

Frankly, you did not think this far ahead. 

“What, that eager?” he scoffs, and it’s almost shocking how cocky he sounds so naturally, compared to the non-confrontational flounder he had when you first met and the desperate attempts to be at least relatively civil since, but evidently, he has had enough of holding back. The prospect would be a lot more exciting if you had any sort of game plan, or if you were still toying with him like that first night instead of being as genuinely bothered as you are now. 

Though as far as a last-minute game plan goes, pissing Felix off and using his best friend to do it is a pretty damn good one. As good as it’s gonna get, anyway. 

“Yeah, actually,” you admit, doing your damn best to make it sound less like an admittance and more of a sarcastic taunt as you buy time to think of a clever enough response, backing him up without much resistance to the nearest wall, shoving his back against it. The way he seems to have absolutely no complaint with being manhandled around and pliantly letting you do so, has something inside you burning up at the seams. “About as eager as you were in that chair at the Prism, blushing and hard for me. Tell me, Chris, do you like being watched?” 

Testing the waters, you grab his chin and roughly turn it in Felix’s direction, casting a glance over your shoulder to challenge him before turning back to Chan, who still makes no move against you. He doesn’t even lift a hand to push you off or step away. You lean in right next to his ear, his jaw still firmly in your grasp, “Do you like the thought of him watching you? Is that why you’re letting me touch you like this?” 

“No, I just think it’s funny,” he snickers, and you pointedly do not like how smug he sounds when he’s supposed to be easy to fluster. His ears still get tinged with red, but he does a spectacular job acting unbothered and its awfully convincing. “That once again, you’re trying to tease me for being eager when you’re the one who invited me to the show, then up on stage, now this… so, who exactly is the eager one, again?” 

If it wasn’t so infuriating, maybe the giggles that followed would be arguably cute, but you’re more focused on the fact that your metaphorical hold on him is very rapidly slipping. Musicality may be one thing, but you’ll be damned if his meek ass beats you in sheer dominant sex appeal, too. You know he’s at least somewhat into you, surely, as he admitted he liked what he saw from the start and willingly showed up at the Prism, so it can’t just be that. 

Good god, Bang Christopher Chan might have actually just gone and grown a backbone. 

“I don’t know, Chris, I sure haven’t had anyone less than eager be so pliant for me like this, so you tell me.” 

“Why do you want me to act up so badly, huh?” He deliberately swerves your obvious provocation of his English name to keep digging at you. “Did you enjoy getting smacked up by Changbin that much? It’s like you’re just dying to be put in your place.” 

“Oh, you really think you could do that?” 

He shrugs, cocking his head to the side. 

“I could fuck around and find out.” 

There is not a second of hesitation. The conviction in his voice is as clear as it is stupidly, effortlessly hot – he’s clearly ready to put his money where his mouth is, not just that he could but he would. 

You should have given yourself more credit. While it initially seemed like Bang Chan was a difficult man to truly get a rise out of – at least, one that he doesn’t hold back for the sake of being polite – you’re simply just too good at it. Either that, or he isn’t as much of a sweetheart as he appears, which, frankly, would only make things far more entertaining. After all, a provocative asshole repeatedly fighting a backless people pleaser is basically just bullying, but a provocative asshole fighting a provocative asshole? Now that’s a brawl. Meaning you could afford to get a whole lot messier, not limited to the physical kind, and that’s something you haven’t had the chance to do justifiably in a damn long time. 

How exciting. 

“You could. I think the ‘find out’ part will be a lot more fun for me than for you, though. See, why I’m doing this is obvious and simple – I like playing with my food.” You tilt his head this way and that, just to emphasise his place; your plaything. He can’t forget. Not him too. “I’ve always been the type. Getting under your skin, driving you mad, making things hard for you on purpose – in both meanings of the word, that’s my thing – but you? What does letting me have my way with you, gain you, hm?” 

He’s surprisingly quick on the uptake, and you’re starting to realise you may have underestimated him and his wit and will to step up to the challenge in terms of your silly little mind games. He doesn’t take the bait and deny that he is in fact, letting you toy with him – you have half the mind to think he enjoys it, being toyed with. It’s always the leader types who crave to submit – but nothing could have prepared you for the gall of his answer. 

“To see how bad you want me.” 

Felix and Chan have more in common than you initially thought, you notice. Both try so, so hard to avoid conflict, but when you push them far enough, they show a shocking boldness where they don’t pull their punches. Or maybe – and your work might be cut out for you if it is – maybe they are pulling their punches still, and you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. It’s positively maddening, and you don’t even know if he knows just how much, only that you need to take him down a notch. 

Pettily, you surge forward like you’re about to kiss him, but right as your lips are about to meet and you feel him crane forward, you pull back, leaving him uselessly floundering in the air for a split second before opening his eyes in confusion. 

“To see how bad I want you, hm? Please, you should see how badly I wanted Felix just before. He sure seems thrilled about it, doesn’t he? What did I just tell you about how I like playing with my food, sweetheart?” 

“I do have a pretty sweet heart, don’t I?” he muses, his honey voice even sweeter, “Not you, though. You’re too good at bringing out the worst in people.” 

When he takes a glance past you back at Felix, though, and sees Felix’s steely gaze staring right back at him while both of your bandmates bicker endlessly around him, your initial suspicion becomes all the more obvious. That last part sounded far too genuine, far less teasing, and you get the feeling he isn’t entirely or even mostly talking about Felix. 

He just can’t keep up the nice guy act around you. 

“You want to make freckles jealous. Isn’t that right?” His face falters instantly, something that doesn’t slip past you when holding him so close, tells you all you need to know. Putting the pieces together, it makes even more sense in hindsight – what made the Prism so different to that first bumbling encounter he had with you? Felix. It always comes back down to the golden boy, apparently, because Chan would do anything to seem like he’s got his shit together in front of him, and you think that sneaking off with him earlier made Chan more jealous than he’d want to acknowledge. “You’re letting me because he’s watching, and you’re still watching him to see if he gets just as jealous as you do whenever me or Eric pull him away from you, right?” 

“God, do you ever shut the fuck u–“ 

You first feel his hand grab the back of your neck, and then it’s his supple lips crashing into yours, capturing them, taking your breath away. You meet his fervour with just as much in turn, grabbing a fistful of his hair that’s almost crusty with hair spray to style it out of his face, yanking it in a way that’s just too hard to be more pleasurable than painful. It’s all just teeth and tongue and him growling just loud enough for you to hear as he pulls you strongly against him. 

The kiss tastes like victory and being right. 

Truthfully, you did not think he had it in him to go for it in such a public area like this, but maybe you really do bring out the worst in him. Would he regret this after? How amusingly humiliating it would be for him if he did, though if he didn’t, things would sure get a lot more interesting. You make sure to do what you do best and put on a show, hooking your leg around him and pushing up his poor excuse for a shirt to touch and grab and dig your nails into any flesh that was offered to you, hoping Felix was still watching and soaking in every single detail. 

In the end, you aren’t much better than Chan for wanting to make Felix jealous, as you are doing almost the exact same thing, albeit for different reasons. For you, it’s about winning. You want to gloat, add insult to the injury, and make him so hard in the process he’s left taking out his frustration on his own fist. If he comes crawling back, sure you’ll take him, but you definitely will not be gentle about it.  

For Chan, he was just a poor fool in love with his best friend, and is probably hoping he’ll want a turn after getting a taste from a distance. Hoping that he’ll realise what he’s missing right before his eyes, and decide he wants it for himself, and Chan will willingly give it to him – he’s probably a boring missionary with the lights off kinda guy and thinks it’s romantic, or something. Were you not with two hands in his hair trying to stick your tongue down his throat, you would’ve chuckled at the thought. 

“Are you serious right now?” 

While you did expect an interruption, you expected it more from one of them than your own drummer, visibly seething. You break the lip-lock to glare at him back in sheer confusion, but Chan doesn’t stop, glaring at Eric as well while his mouth moves down to your neck. The situation is all too familiar, and you wonder how much detail Felix shared about your last encounter with the others. 

“Why wouldn’t I be, Eric? I’m not touching your ex, so what’s the problem?” 

“You were just a hot minute ago,” Eric counters, though it’s not like you tried to hide it anyway. You shrug, tugging on Chan’s hair again as he cautiously slows down to encourage him to keep going despite the interference. 

“And? If you wanted me to follow the bro code, maybe you shouldn’t’ve suggested we tag team him at the Prism.” 

Your bandmate rolls his eyes so hard he probably got a glimpse of his brain. “It’s not about being my ex, they just insulted our band and everything we stand for! Are you seriously going to just stand there and take that cause they’re hot?!” 

“Take that? Oh, I’m not the one taking anything, just ask freckles over there,” you snicker, nodding toward him. “This boytoy is about to fuck around and find out.” 

The band’s opinions might as well be the only opinions that matter to you at this point, but in this moment you find yourself easily discarding them. Yes, you originally started antagonizing them for Eric’s sake – and it still is a large part that, but especially after the stunt at the Prism, he has no right to tell you who you can or can’t fuck as your friend. Evidently now your competitors have gone from competitors and a bitter ex to straight up enemies in his eyes, and perhaps at least with Felix, yours as well – but there’s no arrangement saying enemies are off-limits, either. In fact, you recall your band agreeing that no one cares who else you sleep with, so long as none of you catch and spread anything. 

“Maybe you can fuck around and find out yourself,” Chan pitches in boldly, surprising both of you. He looks forward at Eric through his eyebrows as he hovers over your shoulder still, but you can’t help get the feeling that he is hiding behind you like a shield. 

Eric’s eyes nearly pop out of his damn head. He has never liked Chan, not since he dated Felix and certainly not now. He was always very clingy with Felix, which isn’t really a problem on its own, but even you could tell from the way he looks at him that Eric was not exaggerating when he said he was whipped. You recall him ranting about a time where Chan had called Felix his soulmate, which activated just about every possessive bone in Eric’s body, and you couldn’t exactly blame him. 

To hear Chan come on to Eric for a change threw you both for a loop. 

“Is that an invitation?” 

“You wanna get the freckles treatment that bad, huh?” you poke, lightly smacking Chan’s thigh, “Fine by me. I wonder how long you’ll last.” 

“No, I’m not doing this,” Eric mutters bitterly, turning around and heading off with a childish wave. He must be thoroughly pissed off to not take him up on the chance to – whatever it is you call what you two did to Felix that made him feel in control again. To prove himself, you suppose. Or even just to tease Chan until he breaks. “Have fun sucking off our nemesis, just don’t expect to come home and have me finish you off when he can’t please you!” 

Cheap and immature – but Chan tightens his grip on you at that, bringing his lips next to your ear, asking slowly, cautiously, even – but undoubtedly brimming with anticipation.  

“Is that... a challenge?” 

“It sure is, hotshot, and you better not disappoint.” 

Despite how well Chan has been keeping his cool so far, he lets it slip on the drive home that he was his roommates’ ride back home, yet here he is, driving home without them. He insists they’ll be fine, public transport running all night with a stop right by their house. 

Not apartment. House. 

It’s a nice house too, and you would’ve thought it belonged to a young family of five at first glance if he hadn’t already revealed he lives there with only ‘the rachas’, who you have deduced from your stalking– or, research, are the two other band members who produce most of their music. You nearly trip over a dozen pairs of shoes in the doorway, the casual reminder that ah, yes, these are very much still men, but cliché as it is, Chan catches and steadies you. 

“Whoops. Sorry ‘bout the mess, wasn’t expecting guests- uh, you can take your shoes off if you want.” 

Ever the gentleman, you suppose. 

“Wow. Smooth,” you deadpan, blinking at him in awe before awkwardly removing your boots and stepping out just that much shorter without them, which Chan definitely notices, so you don’t give him time for a response. “You this charming to all of your hook-ups?” 

“Oh shut up,” he grumbles, chucking his shoes off and ushering you towards what’s presumably his bedroom, complete with coloured wall lights setting the room in a homey purple glow, and nerdy anime figurines on his shelves. Cute. “I was giving you a chance to back out in case you were getting second thoughts.” 

“Sure you were,” you drawl, unconvinced. Oldest trick in the book, and hardly impressive at that. “Now, are you really going to fuck around and find out, or admit you were all talk and get your ass out for me?” 

Now that makes him blush and grin at the same time, finally sauntering over to you and unbuckling his belt. “I don’t get my ass out for just anyone, tough guy, I’m typically more of a top, so I do hope you were ready to find out when you let me fuck around.” 

Now that’s a challenge if you ever heard one, and all of a sudden you aren’t sure who exactly is fucking around and finding out anymore. The thrill is exhilarating – little does he know or possibly realise, is that either way, you win. Because he can try put you in your place all he wants; even if he fucks the attitude out of you for a night, you’ll bite back harder as soon as you bounce back, and he can try again, but it’s not really punishment if you enjoy it so much. 

He was doomed to fail the moment he brought you home with him. 

“You think I need to top you to make you beg, pretty boy? Pff. You know what, I’ll even play nice. I won’t even try to take control for the first... five or so minutes. But I won’t give it to you either, so you’re going to have to take it yourself... or try.” 

“You and your games,” he hums, straightening his belt in his hands and turning it over almost in contemplation. You don’t think he’ll actually use it, but you entertain the thought. “You gonna put a timer on me too?” 

“Do you want me to? Cause it seems to me like you’re stalling again. Come on, big boy, give it your worst. I imagine you have a lot of anger to take out on me, no?” 

Your confident smile stays on your face when he lazily shoves you towards the bed, the back of your legs bumping the mattress, but you don’t even so much as sit on it, giving him a taunting look. Does he really think you are that easy? Does he really think you actually have any plans to cave for him? 

“Wow, that was pretty weak.” 

“If you want me to be rough with you, tough guy, we’re gonna need a safe word.” 

Ooh. Now you like the sound of that. 

“Red. Red light, if you prefer something more specific. I’ll say yellow if I’m reaching my limit. Likewise you can say the same, and I sure hope you do – because once I get started, I’m not stopping until you do.” 

He bites his lip at the warning; you can just feel the excitement emanating from him in waves. It’s almost more cute than it is threatening, and you already know you’re going to have fun with him. 

Ahh, nothing quite like the thrill of a charged rivalry. 

“Red light to stop, got it,” he confirms, nodding. “And... nothing else?” 

“Nothing else?” 

“Like...” he looks down at his belt again, running his hands across it, “just to be totally clear. When you say you’re not stopping until I do say it, does that mean we don’t stop if we say ‘stop,’ only when we say red light?” 

You’re sure your face must have just lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree, but you cannot help it. “CNC, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you, but yes, only red light. Though if you think I’m going to whine and plead for you to stop to get your dick hard, you’re going to be quite very disappointed.” 

“You really need to learn to shut the fuck up for once.” 

Music to your ears, as far as you are concerned. Not just is it a tantalizing promise, but it’s oddly satisfying to hear him say something so directly hostile – you have certainly succeeded in your mission to push his buttons, and now you’re just looking for even more to press. 

He pushes you back with more force this time, and when you hold firm, he simply picks you up like you don’t weigh anything and tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll, climbing over you and pinning you there. You try to grab him to flip the two of you over, but he’s much stronger than Felix was – you can feel it in his grip, his weight, and how easily he manhandles your wrists to either side of your head and keeps them there despite your struggle, and boy, do you struggle. 

“Great job shutting me up,” you spit sarcastically, but he just keeps grinning down at you like he’s so thoroughly endeared by whatever he’s seeing. Not angry. Endeared. 

Something about that feels so much worse. 

“You’re trying so hard right now,” he giggles, fucking giggles at you, “but you can’t overpower me, can’t you?” 

That motherfucker is getting off to this. 

You relax your muscles then try to surge up with all your strength at once, just like how you overpowered Felix in a similar position, but unlike him, Chan doesn’t budge, arms flexing as they keep you firmly held down. Completely physically at his mercy.  

You seriously need to hit the gym. 

God, he likes it way too much, you can see the power trip written all over his face, and you can’t let him have it that easy. The show of strength is attractive, sure, but he’ll have to try harder than that to get anything else out of you, and he’s far too pacifistic to really tame you.  

“Maybe not physically,” you huff through gritted teeth and a half-smirk, “but that doesn’t mean you’ve won.” 

“That’s right, you want me to fuck the attitude out of you too, don’t you?” 

If you had been drinking something, you would’ve spat it out all over his face at that – it’s so damn jarring to hear something so crude coming out of his mouth, so confidently, even after all the tension tonight. He’s always stepped up to your challenge, but even when he shed his shyness, there was still a level of politeness to him – or was that restraint? 

“I want you to try, hotshot.” 

“I’ll give it my best shot, then.”  

He finally lets you push him off you, but when you’re both upright in a sitting position, he moves with startling quickness, grabbing both your arms again and pulling them behind your back and twisting you around to face away from him. You thrash about, but he simply shoves your face down into the mattress, grabs his belt again and loops it around one wrist to pull it to the other. You don’t make it easy for him, but eventually he manages to get both wrists tied in his belt, and when you try to slip free, you realise these are no improvised cuffs – he's definitely used his belt like this before. 

“You’re a real freak on the inside, aren’t you?” you chuckle, testing the belt cuffs again. They hold steady, chafing against your skin. “It’s always the sweet ones, isn’t it?” 

He scoffs, but he hardly seems offended. “That’d imply you’re anything of the sort. You may be a freak but you’re hardly sweet.” 

“Oh, but I can be. You simply haven’t earned the privilege, sweetheart.” 

And you really can be, the band would attest to that; your mean streak is coupled with the inclination to reward good behaviour when suitable, and you’re sure if you just dangle it in front of him like a carrot on a stick, he’ll walk on hot coals to earn his validation. The ones who pine so hopelessly are always the same like that. 

“I don’t think I need it.”  

He holds the cuffs in one hand so you can’t escape while the other starts divesting you of your pants, and you’re effectively lost for words. Just how long does he think he can keep this act up? He could barely contain himself back at the venue, all over you as soon as you started provoking him, letting you shove him around like a pathetic little thing. 

His grin doesn’t seem so polite anymore. 

“I usually feel a little bad when people want me to be rough with them. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless they're really into that, that’s not really how I get my kicks. I’m more of a giver. But you? You make it so easy to just take.” 

He doesn’t even fully pull your pants and underwear off, shoving them down only to your knees, then shoves two long fingers inside you, earning him a hiss. Chills go down your spine; he’s serious. You thought he would be too soft for you, but with him manhandling you now, the sinking feeling creeps up on you that your initial judgements of him may in fact be wrong. 

“Cause you just love it, don’t you? This is exactly what you wanted from me.” You do. It’s exactly what you wanted but the last thing you expected, and it has you positively reeling. “You’re so fucking wet... I knew you wanted to be put in your place.” 

You cast him a glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow at him and giving him the most neutral expression you can muster. “You think this is all you? You have no idea what I got up to with your precious little freckled boytoy in the back corridor, do you?” 

That hardens his features, pumping his fingers into you with more vigour, but with the angle, the method, and your sheer determination to not give him the satisfaction, it doesn’t do a whole lot. “Go on then, fuck the attitude out of me, if you think you can really do that.” 

Something seems to click. He pauses. 

“Hm... I don’t think I will.” 

You’re washed over with a wave of déjà vu to not that much earlier that night with Felix in that corridor. There’s no way he knew exactly what happened – you may have hinted at it, but there’s no way he knows specifically. There’s no way he’s about to do the exact same thing to you. There’s just no way. 

He pulls back, taking his hands off you completely and sitting back on his knees. Observing you. Amused. Endeared.  

Fuck. 

“You want it so badly. Why should I give it to you? You don’t deserve it.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Backed into a corner, you’re left with two options – give him what he wants, or edge yourself a second time in one night just to keep your pride, which, doesn’t really feel like is still intact when he’s not just using your own trick against you, but also, he just seems far too smug. If you say no now and walk out just like you did with his bandmate, after going with him all the way home and into his bed, you know it’ll reflect more on you than on him, and he knows that. 

"You wouldn’t have brought me back here if you didn’t want it badly enough too, smartass, so try again.” It’s a last-ditch attempt at saving face, but it has truth to it – not that you think he will cave in so easily. 

As it turns out, you are right. 

“You’re a brat,” he deadpans, crossing his arms and giving you a smirk that only tells you that he thinks he’s won. The odds of him thinking correctly are not exactly skewed in your favour. “You want to be put in your place more than I want to do it for you.” 

“You know what? Your five minutes are over.” 

It’s the only trump card you have, so you turn around and kick your bottoms off completely, climbing into his lap and grinding down on him, feeling just how hard he’s gotten from all the night’s teasing. It’s harder to get the upper hand on him when your hands are tied behind your back, but while you try to slip free of them, he simply laughs at you, grabs your wrist and pulls you off him with such ease it’s humiliating. 

“You’re so cute.” 

Cute? You’ve never been more enraged at praise before, feeling a red hot rush of anger and god knows what else all at once. Any other day and you’d be teasing him right back, but anything you could possibly say back to that dies on your tongue. The dawning fear that you may have finally bitten off more than you can chew sinks in like a pit in your stomach, directly betrayed by the heat it sends down south at the thought of sweet, pathetic Chan, having his way with you. At the thought of what he’d do to you if you finally caved. 

But you don’t need to. You have six other bandmates at home who know your body inside and out, who can probably please you far better than him – if you wanted someone to overpower you and break you, you could always go to Mingi. If you wanted a power struggle and a brat to tame, you could go to Wooyoung. If you wanted a power struggle to lose, you could always go to San or Sunwoo. If you wanted someone who could match your every move and go all night, you could go to Er– 

Or... maybe not. Not tonight. 

“I’m not cute,” is all you manage to say back, albeit rather weakly, and Chan just coos and ruffles your hair. Perhaps messing with the nice ones wasn’t your smartest move, as each act of affection he shows you seems even more potently menacing and deliberate than the last. 

“Cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

You were so fucking wrong about him. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Say please?” 

You want to kick and scream. He’s positively fucking infuriating, and you want – no, you need him to shut up and get you off before you spontaneously catch fire, but that’s exactly where he wants you and you hate it. But the thought of release, here and now without waiting to get home and deal with Eric’s pissy mood or having to handle it with only the help of your trusty vibrator, is looking more and more appealing with each passing second you spend glaring at his sickeningly pointed smirk. 

“I’m going to kill you for this.” 

With only the cruellest of gentleness, he brushes stray strands of hair out of your face, gracing you with only that touch and nothing else, his smirk growing into a wide, saccharine smile. 

“You can try.” 

Your own words, effectively chewed up and spat right back in your face. Fuck. 

Humiliating is the only way you can describe it, deeply and thoroughly humiliating, searing at your skin and all your senses, and yet, you still want him. Wooyoung’s humiliation kink suddenly seems to click in that moment, the way that white-hot shame is only making you even more flustered and worked up, but it’s more how frustratingly in-control Chan looks, kneeling in front of you and observing you like this. It’s a good look on him – too good of a look, you think, wanting to wipe it right off his face, but you don’t know how, so you do the only thing you have left. 

“...please.” 

“What was that?” He leans in closer, smug as can be, cupping a hand around his ear as if he really couldn’t hear you in the complete silence of his room. Bastard. 

“I’m not saying it again,” you spit in one last act of defiance, legs wobbling like jelly with the sheer embarrassment of it all. You’ve been provoking him this whole time, and now he gets to tease you? You’re taking this shame with you to the goddamn grave. “Either fuck me like you’ve been wanting to do this whole time, or don’t. I don’t care.” 

It’s a lie and you both know it, because if he doesn’t you know you’ll be so pent up that not even your vibrator could save you, but it’s easier to say that than to let him get any smugger than he already is. If your big mouth just sealed your fate, so be it, because there is no going back now. 

“I think we both know,” he begins slowly, “that you do care. But it’s okay, I’m not as blatantly mean as you are.” 

Mercy? Is he really showing you an act of mercy after so determinedly trying to make you crack? It doesn’t make sense – well, not until you consider that he has been edging himself just as long as he’s been edging you, so you suppose he’s taking the most subtle way he can of caving in. That’s enough for you, you think. You’ll take it. 

He pushes you back onto your back, arms somewhat uncomfortably stuck beneath you, but you hardly have it in you to care when he finally touches you, running his hands along your thighs and spreading them open with the firm instruction for you to keep them there. For once, you don’t actually feel like disobeying. 

He gets up, taking his time to walk around to his bedside table, and rummage through the drawers. After his expertise in repurposing his belt, you don’t know what to expect him to pull out from there, and based on the way he strokes his chin and stares periodically as he shuffles around, you get the idea he’s not sure yet either. That, or he’s deliberately making you wait, which is probably just as likely. 

“Are you more of an external or internal stimulation kinda guy?” he asks thoughtfully, tilting his head at his drawer, and your eyes widen at the question. 

“Now why should I tell you that?” 

“Uh, to come,” he scoffs back bluntly, “But that’s fine if you want to be stubborn still. Can’t go wrong with both.” 

He pulls out a blue rabbit vibrator and some lube, which you’re not sure why he bothers with when you’re already soaking a wet spot onto his sheets, but when he pops the cap open and your nostrils are hit with the scent of vanilla, you have a decent guess. 

“You don’t want to fuck me yourself?” You aren’t trying to taunt him this time, genuinely just surprised he’s doing all this without touching himself even once this whole time or even so much as taking off his clothes – you're starting to really believe him when he said he was a giver earlier. 

He simply smiles at you, pushing the lubed-up dildo to your hole gently. “What did I say about you not deserving it?” 

You shrug the best you can with your bound arms trapped between you and the mattress, at last relaxing to just enjoy the ride. If he wants to deny himself further, you’re not going to work yourself up into a fit over it – at this point, you just want to get off, so as far as you’re concerned, it’s his loss.  

“Fine by me. Toys usually feel far better than anything your dick could do, anyway.” 

He doesn’t seem to take the bait this time either, and truthfully, you don’t mind – not when it wasn’t even a lie, not really. When he switches it on, immediately turning it up three settings, your body jolts at the vibrations on your clit and inside you, mouth falling open in a silent cry. 

“That’s better. Feel good?” 

You nod wordlessly as he pushes it in and out of you, the combined sensations rendering you breathless for a long moment while you get used to the onslaught of pleasure enough to form words again. You’d be more embarrassed if you were not so wound up already, but it also helps that it’s just a toy rather than anything he could really brag about. You could probably use that against him later. At least, you hope so. 

“Use your words when I talk to you, baby.” 

He sounds like a siren, the way he makes that sound like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, body shuddering and eyes rolling back as he turns the toy up one notch more. 

“F-Fuck- it feels good! So good,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath while it seems like it’s trying to sprint away from you. It’s so much all at once, and with all the teasing you already endured, you don’t think you will last very long. 

He leans over you, swiftly but not hastily kissing down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt to continue kissing down your chest, stopping at the gnarly scar across the underside of your pectorals. You brace yourself for one of the many comments you’ve heard, grabbing your wits about you and sharpening your tongue in preparation, then he breaths out– 

“Pretty.” 

Pretty? Your words get caught in your throat, his lips coming down to leave feather-light kisses on the scar from one end to the other, and each tiny point of contact feels like electricity crackling through you. Pretty. He just saw the dark, wide scar that speaks loudly of the battles you’ve won, your pride and your pain and your story all in one, and he kisses it and calls it pretty. Like it isn’t horrifying, or grizzly, or even badass or cool, but pretty, as if it’s something delicate, something to be revered. 

When he’s supposed to be mad at you. 

Each drive of the toy into you accompanied with the gentle worship of his lips has your back arching off the bed, tears springing to the corners of your eyes as he picks up the pace and the high you’ve been craving all night crawls up on you with overwhelming quickness, so close you can taste it on your tongue. 

“Oh fuck, I-I’m close–” 

Then he stops. 

Any cry of protest you were going to make dies on your lips, and instead, the tears of overwhelm that built up in your eyes finally spill over and down your cheeks, your hips instinctively twitching to try and get any sort of feeling once he pulls the toy away from you completely, still buzzing. 

“You- You said-” 

“I said I’m not as blatantly mean as you are,” he coos, stroking your hair again, his smile down at you with nothing but trouble written all over it. You swallow thickly. “I can be subtler about it, and much, much meaner.” 

“You haven’t even seen how mean I can get yet, hotshot,” you jeer, but you’re sure it doesn’t hold much weight with tears on your face and the edge of whininess to your voice. 

He doesn’t seem very intimidated, nor does he even grace that with a response, simply pressing the tip of the toy directly at your sensitive clit, but only for a moment before pulling back again, giggling cutely at how your hips keen up for more. 

“Fuck you!” 

He repeats the teasing motion again, his harmonic giggles filling your ears, and you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this riled up before, that with each touch of the buzzing toy you almost, almost tip over the edge, but you know you don’t want to. You know that if you do, it’ll stop, and you’ll be riding out your orgasm on nothing but air. 

Please. You know that’s what he wants to hear. You know that’s all you need to say. And yet, there’s a part of you that still doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, even though you’re sure he’s already had plenty just stringing you along this far and getting you to say it once, but your pride is too stubborn to say it like you mean it. 

“Maybe Eric was right, I might need to get him to make me come after all since you can’t seem to- ah!” 

He takes your bait this time, but not in the way you wanted to, pressing the toy hard against your over-sensitive nerve endings, just long enough to watch your body writhe and squirm and try to choke back a cry before he pulls back, but it’s too late. He brought you over the edge and let you fall, whining and shoving your hips up into nothing as your ruined orgasm pulses through you. 

“Can’t make you come, huh?” 

You haven’t caved in yet. Not fully. You don’t have to, you think, you can endure it and get him to go again and if you concentrate really hard, you can come without him realising, surely– 

“What’s your colour?” 

You blink quickly, still reeling, then process his question. You didn’t go this far just to call it quits now, not when you haven’t even touched him yet, not when you haven’t even got the chance to see his resolve crumble. You need it, you need to break him, whatever it takes. 

“Green.” 

“Good boy,” he chuckles darkly, petting your hair again, and now you register it as what it is – a warning. “Because I’m not done with you yet.” 

How many times has it been? 

You can’t count. You’re not sure if you can even tell up from down. The world is spinning, you’re just caught in its orbit, and just as you try to tense your body to not shake when your high creeps up on you again, it shakes anyway, and Chan pulls back once more. 

“You’re so fucking mean!” you scream, thrashing your legs about, but like every other time so far, he just laughs at you, then licks along the shaft of the toy, tasting your essence for himself. 

“I can do this all night, you know. The rachas might be back soon, though, and this rabbit only has so much charge, sooo... well, I can’t force you to do anything, no?” 

But he can, and you’re both aware of it, that’s precisely what you wanted to see him do, precisely the reason why you clarified the extents of your safe word system, but he’s doing it on purpose. He doesn’t want to take what he wants from you, because that’s exactly what you want him to do. He, just like Felix did, wants to see you beg, and unlike the former, he might just get it. 

Please. 

You’re at your wits end. More tears trail down your cheeks, to which he softly brushes off with the pad of his thumb, then sucks clean. He’s sick, licking your tears, but he looks fucking godly, the kind of powerful that mortals will clamber over each other tooth and nail just to feel for a day. It defies every preconceived notion you had of the man, but damn if you haven’t always had a thing for a defiant streak and his is giving you a taste of what madness truly feels like. 

Please. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, tough guy?” 

The condescending nickname only makes you want to act out even more, but you’re almost spent and he hasn’t even taken his pants off yet, and you cannot leave his bed without having made a dent in him whatsoever. You refuse. 

And so, you beg. 

“Please.” 

“I can’t hear you–” 

“Please!” You cry out, voice ragged from all the strain, “Please, Chan, just let me come already for fuck’s sake you’re such an asshole, just let me cum or I swear I’ll-” 

“Um? You were off to a good start baby, but that doesn’t sound like using your manners anymore...” 

That cruel, cruel, smile, will follow you into both your wet dreams and your nightmares. You’ve seen what lies behind that polite demeanour now, and were you any less headstrong, you’d decide not to test him again – but you can’t have suffered this for nothing. You can count your losses now, and come at him more prepared next time, because right now, you would do whatever he asks so long as he just. Lets. You. Come. 

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I’m already begging I don’t know what else you want from me, please, Chan!” 

He sets the toy aside and you’re almost about to start whining and pleading again or even call yellow when he leans over to his bedside drawer again and this time, grabs a magic wand. Your eyes widen when he plugs it into the wall, realising that if this wand needs a three-prong outlet to power it, you might not feel your legs by the end of this. 

“Good boys get rewarded,” he reminds you, undoing his fly and shoving his briefs down just far enough to get it out of the way, finally revealing himself to you in all his glory, hard and leaking for you no doubt from how long he’s been holding himself off for this. He still takes his time fishing a condom out of his pocket, and you just wish he’d hurry up. 

“Forget that,” you huff, trying to nudge it away with your knee, “I get tested frequently and got the scoop already, just let me feel you, please.” 

“How do you know I don’t have anything?” he teases, stilling his movements, and you groan at how your attempt to hurry him along just dragged it out even longer. “I mean, I don’t, but that’s not really the safest of habits–” 

Were you not bound and begging him to fuck you, you’d have socked him in the face already. “Are you going to keep lecturing me or are you going to fuck me already?”  

He laughs, tossing the condom aside and moving closer between your legs, collecting your wetness on his tip and hissing at the feeling – you have no doubt he’s beyond sensitive with how worked up he must be, depriving himself all night, and you just cannot wait to see him break loose. 

“You’re cute when you’re desperate.” 

He sheathes himself fully inside you all at once, filling you up just that much more than the toy did, and the groan that he lets out at you clenching around him is the most euphoric thing you’ve heard all night, even more so than the screams of the crowd at the contest. Loud was not the first word that came to mind when you imagined what Chan would be like as a dominant in bed – not that you’d imagined it prior, or, at least, not for too long, anyway – but it turns out he is full of surprises. He doesn’t hold back the breathy grunts that spill from his lips as he starts to move, and neither do you. 

Your arms ache, wrists moist with the sweat trapped between the belt and your skin, but you don’t have it in you to speak up about it, as if he stops or slows down now you think you just might kill him for real. Just as you try to wriggle and slip your hands free to touch yourself, you are forcefully reminded of the toy he grabbed earlier – almost more fitting to call it a tool with the strength of the vibrations suddenly pulsing against you, so intensely it pulls out a moan so loud it borders on a scream. 

“Fuck– Chan– too much–!” you gasp, tears welling up in your eyes, but when you blink them away and see Chan just give you a questioning tilt of his head, you know what you have to say to make him slow down. 

The word never leaves your lips. 

“Too much, huh?” he taunts, snapping his hips even faster and making your toes curl. There’s a gravelly tone to his voice now, no doubt him finally losing his composure now that he is finally having you himself. “Weren’t you begging for this just a moment ago? Don’t you– hah– Don’t you want to come? Fuck, you’re clenching around me so tight like this, baby...” 

He’s gone already, you realise, though not like you’re one to talk – you wonder if this is part of why he waited so damn long, but by now you’re not that far behind him, barely hanging on. It’s only when you realise that you are still trying to hold on when he’s already given you permission to come do you finally let go, calling out his name as possibly the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced wracks your body in waves. 

“That’s it baby, just like that, fuck, come for me, come.” 

You don’t remember the last time you cried this much in bed, but it’s so overwhelming that the tears just keep on falling and your body keeps on writhing, almost trying to pull away, but your wrists are still tightly bound, and Chan does not let up, even for a moment. His groans grow louder, his face beautifully scrunched up in ecstasy, and his grip on your hip tightens with each thrust. 

The vibrations on your clit don’t let up either, Chan still holding the wand firmly in place, but you can’t string together a sentence to stop him. You don’t know if you want him to, all you know is that it hurts, but it’s hard to tell where pain ends and pleasure begins, just stars spinning behind your eyelids. 

“Ch-Chan,” you whine, physically reeling, “T-Too much...!” 

Yellow. It sits on your tongue, simmering, the same way you can almost feel heatwaves emanating from both you and Chan’s bodies, trembling like a leaf, but it doesn’t reach a boiling point, just an inch too shy. You can take it. You can take more. You want it. You need it. 

“If it were anyone else,” Chan rasps, leaning down and propping up his free arm next to your head so his face hovers closely over yours, “Anyone else and I’d feel really bad about this.” 

Chan proves to be one of the most confusing men you have ever met, because him saying that fills you with equal parts dread, excitement, and the most twisted sense of pride at being the only one to be able to draw out this side of him. To have that much of an effect over him. Either you tell yourself that to cope, or maybe you didn’t completely lose this test of will after all. 

All the sweat manages to be enough for you to finally slip your hands free from belt one at a time, grabbing at his broad shoulders to brace yourself– 

And then he sets the wand to max. 

Your nails meet toned muscle as you dig into his back hard enough to feel the skin breaking, clawing all the way down his back for dear life. Part of you is glad the tool itself is so blaringly loud, because while it doesn’t actually drown you out at all, it at least gives you something else to hear other than your own voice when you make a sound almost foreign to your own ears. You can barely focus on how enticing Chan sounds now, gasping and groaning and hissing at how you feel and releasing inside you, trying to concentrate on the image of him the closest you’ve seen to ruined through the tears that keep welling up in your eyes. 

When it finally stops, you feel like you’re falling back down through the atmosphere, picking up speed as you plummet back down to earth, but your landing is cushioned by Chan’s gentle hands and gentle voice, cooing at you softly and scooping you into his arms. He strokes your hair rhythmically, and this time, it’s not a warning – you haven’t processed a single word he has said to you, but you can feel it enough that it’s not a warning. 

You feel like you might just break. 

“Yellow,” you mumble out loud, at least, but Chan just tuts and cups your face. 

“It’s done now, you’re done, it’s okay,” he whispers, kissing your nose, then your forehead, then tucking your head under his chin and just holding you there. Why? “You don’t have to take anymore, okay? You did good, baby. You did good.” 

You did good.  

You don’t know why hearing that from him makes you dizzy, but you cling to him right back, trying to get a grip on your breathing by syncing it up with the soothing strokes of his palm down your back. It’s such a stark contrast to the man who was just admitting to not feeling bad about pushing you so close to your limit, so different to the Chan who told you that he doesn’t feel like he has to be a giver with you. The Chan that holds you takes nothing and doesn’t let go until you loosen your grip on him first, from damn near falling asleep. 

How long you spent there just stuck to him like glue is beyond you, but it feels like hours. He asks before pulling away, if you’re okay, then tells you he’s going to clean you up and returns with wet wipes and a towel to wipe you off. You drowsily let him wipe you down until you hear the front door opening in the distance and flinch, but Chan just hushes you and smooths his hands over your sides until you calm down. 

“Don’t worry about them,” he reassures you, “they’ll be going straight to bed, and they sleep like the dead. You’re fine with me.” 

You’re not present enough to process how that makes you feel, or to say anything back. Sleep calls, louder this time, and you answer in kind. 

a/n: annnd thats a wrap for this eventful night! if you all are enjoying, it'd mean the world to me if you let me know by answering some questions on this (completely anonymous!) google form so i can work on making the series more enjoyable :) but also feel free to go crazy in the tags/reblogs/comments or even hit up my ask box, i'd love to hear any reactions or opinions or even questions you might have about the series. i appreciate u all endlessly regardless 💘 thank u for reading my pride n joy~

[isaacapatow]

* * #ARES' HOUSE CONVO WITH @aresmelaina

a simple task, derailed by the subject of lucien. ares figures out that renee got ike injured but presses to find out more. ike snaps his jaw shut on ares' throat.

Ares Melaina: -Ares had gotten up surprisingly early; he'd just made himself a cup of instant coffee when he heard some noises coming from the doorway; making his way to the front he saw Isaac currently making his way in- Hey, Ike, what are you- -he raises an eyebrow, glancing at the stuff Ike is carrying- Are you trying to build something? 

Ike: Uh, yeah I'm trying to build something. -gestures around with his hammer at the entirety of ares' house- I'm putting in a god damn door, first of all. How are you living without a door? Don't fuckin' ... animals and shit get in?

Ares Melaina: I used to have a door. The hinges broke. It's in the living room, now. And it's been alright with the animals, just a few cats. And a rat. Once. -Ares leans up against the hallway door as he eyes Ike- Didn't know you could... build things. Guess that's why you left so soon yesterday.

Ike: I can do a ton of shit you got no clue about, kid. I'm a one-man show. -heads into the living room to look for the door, inspecting the hinges with a grunt- Well, it's an easy fix, at least. The wood's still viable to just replace the hinges. Did somebody ... knock your door down? Little pig, little pig?

Ares Melaina: -he follows Ike into the living room, taking a sip from his coffee as he watches the older man, huffing out in amusement- Nah. I mean - I guess I knocked it down when I came home late. -from the bar, after that talk with Mayra, half-drunk-  Don't think anybody breaks into houses here. -he considers Ike curiously, carefully- You sure you're fit to work with- he gestures to his head, the stitches visible-

Ike: Yeah, yeah. It's good for me to keep up a little bit of work while I'm recovering, y'know? Physically and mentally. You can use all those muscles you're covered with and do the heavy lifting for me. -motions ares over- C'mon. Hold the door while I get these bum hinges off. We've had break-ins, from time to time. Nothing big, really -- mostly people pissed at each other, getting back at each other. Anybody liable to wanna get back at you, Ares?

Ares Melaina: Alright. You know what you're doing. -he walks over and grabs the door; the discomfort the comment causes almost makes him wince before he puts on a grin- No sir. Unless Silvy decided to go rogue. Or you changed your mind. -his grip on the door tightens ever so slightly; he wants to change the topic- Sounds like something you might have experience with. People wanting to get back at you.

Ike: Oh, I don't think Silvy would be likely to come for you. She talked to the Council, that's her speed. Firefighters don't go rogue. -starts unscrewing the hinges, prying them off once they're loose enough- I didn't change my mind on you. We squared it, didn't we? Out on the forest floor, me playing the tom-toms on that pretty face of yours? -glances up at ares, steadily, waiting till the younger man meets his eyes- We squared it. We're fine. You're my raider, you belong to me, so we're square. -inspects the splintered areas, making a sound of satisfaction- Yeaaaah, people don't like me much until they get to know me. Or they don't like me because they got to know me. But I don't own anything anybody would want to steal.

Ares Melaina: -he meets Ike's gaze after a moment, swallowing at the comment- Yeah. Guess we're square then. -he turns his attention back to the door and Ike's working hands- That happened to you? Somebody figured out who you were and then they stopped liking you? -his gaze turns back to Ike for a moment- Are you talking about Luc?

Ike: -his hands pause at ares' question, then pick up again, breaking off a small section of wood- Why would you guess Lucien?

Ares Melaina: -he notices the pause, his gaze flickers from Isaac's hands to his face- 'Cause Lucien wasn't too happy when you beat me up. And I'm figuring you guys argued and you told him some things about me. That he doesn't believe.

Ike: That's nice, isn't it? That somebody was unhappy that you got beat up? -his voice is slightly mocking, but then ike sighs, straightening and pressing one hand against the door, putting more pressure against ares holding it- We argued. He socked me one, said some stuff that wasn't exactly untrue. Did he tell you that part?

Ares Melaina: -he grips the door tighter- And he said he can't throw a punch. -he shakes his head, both in mild disbelief and in response to Ike- He was pretty vague overall. I figured you told him about the.. the shit I pulled at the Halfway House. -he eyes Ike curiously- What did Luc say about you?

Ike: You know your brother. Writers tend to cut to the quick with their words when they wanna. -leaves ares with the door to go fetch his other tools and the parts he's brought, sorting in the bag- That I'm an asshole, aims above my station, on a power trip... -finds some sandpaper and returns to the door, starting to work on the splinters- Rotten to the bone.

Ares Melaina: Jesus. -he grimaces slightly and turns quiet for a moment- I don't think he means that. The rotten to the bone part at least. -he watches Ike work intently, taking in the movements- He said you're still his friend.

Ike: I know. -slows his sanding, blowing away some dust, before giving it a few more passes- People like it that I'm rotten to the bone. It's comforting to be friends with somebody who you know is guaranteed to be worse than you. -points at ares- Keep holding it. I have hinges.

Ares Melaina: -his gaze turns from Ike's work back to the man himself- Jesus, Ike. What the hell? -he hesitates a moment before he leans the door back up against the wall- Luc isn't like that. He isn't friends with you to make himself feel better. I know my brother. He isn't the type. -he grimaces- You aren't okay, are you?

Ike: -makes an irritated, protesting sound when ares moves the door away- I was working on that. -he frowns deeper as ares continues, face going closed off by the end of it- I don't know what you're talking about.

Ares Melaina: -he steps up to Ike, getting just a bit into his space as he looks up at the older man- Something happened -he pauses for a moment- Or a lot of shit did and it's coming out now. The hell happened?

Ike: -more obviously irritated now, scowling at ares- Of course something happened. I got my head torn open, is what happened. It's put a tiny bit of a fucking damper on my otherwise sunny outlook.

Ares Melaina: So, you're upset because you got yourself injured on a raid? We get hurt all the time. -he narrows his eyes, his brain working- Something is different about this time. Something happened on that raid, didn't it?

Ike: -keeps staring at him, mouth set hard and jaw working, but doesn't contradict ares-

Ares Melaina: -he seems to be piecing things together- Renee got you hurt, didn't she. That's why we're not allowed to bring her. -his eyes are unwavering as he meets Ike's- What did she do to you?

Ike: -folds his arms, scowling harder, huffing out a heavy breath-

Ares Melaina: Ike. -Ares suddenly pushes in closer, his face hardens, his eyes narrow- What did she do to you? Talk to me.

Ike: -lifts his chin, very slowly, and regards ares with a narrow, glittering stare- I'm keeping you safe, not taking her anywhere. That's all you need to know. I'm not a fuckin' tattletale.

Ares Melaina: -he meets the stare, not averting his own gaze- No. No, I think I should know more. You said I belong to you. I'm your raider. If she tried to hurt you, then I gotta know.

Ike: She didn't... -relents, a little, at that- She didn't try to hurt me. She didn't listen. She ran off because she was mad at me, and went into the clinic before I had a chance to assess it.

Ares Melaina: -he listens, quietly- Jesus. Fuck. I mean I get why you're not wanting us to take her out again. But- -he shakes his head- That doesn't alone explain why you're acting like that. Like people only want you around because of what you can give them. Why- Did someone else hurt you?

Ike: Why the hell is this so important to you, Ares? I handle my own business. -sneers, his voice going lower, curdling with a sudden fury- I fucking handle everyone's business. This is just your first look inside the slaughterhouse.

Ares Melaina: -he seems taken aback by the venom for a moment, but quickly catches himself- So it's a lot of shit that built up, huh? This isn't the first time you're doing that. You're just tired of it now. -his mind is working quickly- You're scared that's all you are. Just someone who handles things.

Ike: -is in a full-on cold rage now, his mouth in a steep downturn as he steps up so close to ares they're almost nose-to-nose- Don't you goddamn think you can psychoanalyze me, boy. You don't understand a thing about how I work. Just because I was able to get into that worm-ridden little brain of yours and see that you miss getting put on your knees by the fuckin' lifers when you were doing time, it doesn't mean you can turn the tables on me. You're nowhere near ready to do that. You don't have what it takes. -grabs the back of ares' head, shaking him hard- Bring this up with me again and you'll wish you tore your tongue outta your fucking head before you said word one.

Ares Melaina: -he instinctively reaches to grab Ike's arm, wrapping his fingers around it as he meets his gaze as Ike gets in close: his eyes widen; he swallows, his heart thumping, pulse throbbing against Ike's hand; he stares at him for a few seconds, taking a moment before responding- Yessir.

Ike: -his stare dots back and forth against ares' face after the younger man concedes, and then ike breaks it, grinning broad and sharklike, sliding his hand from ares' hair to the side of his neck, thumb fetched up hard against his voicebox and digging in- Yes SIR! See, you do know how to get along with me just fine! I like having conversations with you, Ares. You need reminding of the rules every now and again, but it's never boring. And there ain't nothin' I hate worse than boring! -lets go, moving back to pick up one of the new hinges- Get that door again.

Ares Melaina: -he makes a choked noise when Ike presses down on his voice box; when Ike let's go Ares has to take a step back, eyes still widened as he seems to seize Ike up, adjusting- Yes. Sir. I mean Ike. -he responds, voice ever so slightly raspy as he pulls up the door again, heart still thumping in his chest to the point that it seems hard to hold his hands still-

Ike: -they finish up the work near-silently and hang the door, none of it too strenuous; ike collects his things and heads out, stopping to test the door one last time- See that you keep that chinny-chin-chin shut, little pig. Or I'll be back to blow your house in.

.end

[a-pink-beau]

FFXIV Write 2024 #4 - Reticent

Summary: A never ending stream of letters from family are repeatedly ignored.

Content Warnings: None

Spoilers: ARR, Heavensward, Stormblood, Shadowbringers, Endwalker

______________________________________________________________

Tataru waves down Momodi. Momodi, the proprietor of the Quicksand spots the small hand poking over the counter and walks over and peers down from her footstool to see Tataru waving up at her.

“Ah, Tataru! Here to pick up your mail?” Momodi asks, already fishing out the stack of letters from its hiding spot.

“As always!” Tataru cheers, pulling her satchel from her hip to in front of her, readying it. 

“The Drowning Wench is late again as usual, so you’ll have to grab them next time, but here is what the Quicksand and the Roost have received since you’ve last been.” Momodi hands two stacks of letters to Tataru.

“Thank you, Momodi. I’ll be back again in a week.” Tataru nods her head as a goodbye and turns and walks toward the exit, thumbing through the letters. “Bill, bill, Papalymo, bill, Lehon’a, Minfilia, oh!” A particular letter catches her eye. “Haven’t had one of these ones before.” She tucks the letters in her satchel and heads off back to the Waking Sands.

_ _ _

Tataru pencils something into her ledger, standing on her chair at the entrance to the Waking Sands. Lehon’a and Ar’beunti walk in the door, talking amongst themselves. Lehon’a gives her a friendly hello and a wave as they walk by, Ar’beunti flashes her hand but does not make eye-contact with Tataru. “Oh, um, Ar’beunti. You have mail.”

Ar’beunti stops in her tracks, confusion contorting her face.

“Why? -I mean, from who?” Tataru takes another look at the letter.

“Looks like it’s from an Ar’lapi Dah.” Ar’beunti’s confusion turns to concern. Lehon’a looks at Ar’beunti.

“Someone from the Ar clan? Someone you know then? Family?” Ar’beunti stands frozen, eyes looking back and forth from Lehon’a and the letter in Tataru’s hands.

“My mom…” Beau answers in disbelief. “How did that letter get here?” Beau asks, almost as if accusing Tataru of something.

“I pick up all the mail from the adventure’s guilds, anything addressed to me or any of the scions gets consolidated in Ul’dah and I bring them back here. It keeps our location a secret but we can still receive letters.” Tataru extends a letter each to Ar’beunti and Lehon’a. Lehon’a grabs his, looks at the sender and smiles. Ar’beunti just looks at her letter in disgust.

“You can just throw it out.” Beau says, and walks to the stairs that lead to the Waking Sands.

“Throw out a letter from your mom?” Lehon’a looks hurt, glancing down at the letter from his own mother. Ar’beunti doesn’t respond, and falls out of view down the stairs.

“I’ll… I’ll just hold onto this for now, I think. In case she changes her mind.” Tataru says, partly to herself, before tucking the letter away.

_ _ _

“Another letter from your mother, Ar’beunti! I kept the first if you’d like to read them both.”

“No, no need.”

_ _ _

“Letter for you, Ar’beunti. It’s from your mother.”

“No thanks.”

_ _ _

“Mail for you!”

“Nope.”

_ _ _

“Uh, Ar’beunti?”

“Don’t want it.”

_ _ _

“Mail for you, Ar’beunti. I’ll put it with the rest.”

_ _ _

“Mail for you, Ar’beunti. I’ll just put it with the rest.”

_ _ _

“Mail for you, Beau. I’ll put it with the others.”

_ _ _

“Mail for you, Beau. I’ll set it with the rest.” And on it continued. Every letter, ignored. But they persisted. Ar’beunti never replied. Even after defeating the Ultima Weapon, or after Nidhog and Thordan VII were defeated, or after helping liberate Ala Mhigo and Doma, or after returning from the First. Through all this time, the letters never stopped.

Then the Final Days arrived. And the letters stopped.

The Warriors of Light would defeat The Endsinger and bring an end to the Final Days, the people of Etheirys saved. For the first time in a long time, the Warriors of Light would get a taste of peace.

_ _ _

“...Tataru…” Beau said sheepishly over the counter of Tataru Taru’s Boutique. Tataru, folded some papers away and hopped up on the footstool behind the counter.

“How can I help, Beau?” Beau tries a few different words on her lips as she thinks of what to say.

“I know you’re not our receptionist anymore… but I was wondering if you’ve gotten any letters from my mom lately? It’s been a long while since you had mentioned anything.” Beau’s voice wavers ever so slightly as she speaks. Tataru’s smile fades upon hearing the Warrior of Light’s request. She pulls out a notebook from her pocket and begins leafing through it. Page after page she flips, until near the back of the booklet.

“Sorry, Beau, but it’s been months since I’ve gotten anything from her…” Tataru’s voice fades, trying to not imply what the absence of letters may mean.

“Since before the Final Days.”

“Yeah… before the Final Days. I’m sorry, Beau…” The two sit in silence for a moment, Beau takes a deep breath and wipes her eye. Many lives had been lost to despair. Those most susceptible to fear and hopelessness. Beau’s parents were not strong willed people. “I still have all her other letters stored away and the Rising Stone-”

“No thank you, Tataru. That’s okay.” Beau stands in front of the boutique for a moment longer, before turning and leaving. Maybe Tataru’s surprise gift for the Warriors of Light would be more suited for Beau in particular.

_ _ _

Lehon’a and Beau sit along the shore of their (well mostly Beau’s) Island Sanctuary, watching the sun set. Basking in the reward of months of (Beau’s) hard work getting the island into shape.

“Have you ever thought to actually go look for them yourself?” Lehon’a asks, playing with the drink in her hand. Lehon’a looks to Beau, who keeps her eyes on the setting sun.

“Wouldn’t do me any good. If they transformed… turned into blasphemies… there’d be nothing left to look for.”  Beau takes a deep breath. “At least this way, I can still hold out hope that they’re maybe still alive out there somewhere. Rather than confirm that they aren’t.”

“Wouldn’t you want to talk to them?” Beau sits in silence for a moment.

“I don’t know what I’d say. I never can seem to find the words to express how I feel about them. I was barely 18 summers old when I left. That was five years ago.” Lehon’a wants to say something, but it looks to her that Beau doesn’t want words right now. “I never said goodbye.” Beau brings her knees to her chest, her eyes slightly misty.

“Would reading those letters help?” Beau shakes her head.

“Definitely not. I’d probably hate whatever they said. ‘What you’re doing is dangerous,’ ‘come back home,’ ‘the world will only hurt you.’” Beau scoffs, swipes up some sand and throws it out in front of her. “Seeing the letters arrive was just a way to know they were okay.”

Beau catches some movement out on the water. It’s a small row boat. “Looks like your ride is here.” Lehon’a raises an eyebrow.

“What ride? The boat I came in is right there.” Lehon’a points to a similar sized rowboat parked further down the shore line. Both Warriors of Light now confused, stand up and look closer at the small boat rowing toward them.

There they spot a small pink-clad lalafell hopping up and down on the small raft waving her arms wildly.

The boat gets closer and they can make out that it is in fact, Tataru. A big smile on her face, and in one of her hands, a letter.

[aresmelaina]

GROOMING

where Vivienne grooms Ares, and Ares promises to come over to her house sometime @vivienneastor

Ares Melaina -With Lucien having gone home to take a shower and sleep and Nicki having gone out, Ares is bored. He's trying to focus on one of the books Lucien brought him when he hears footsteps and lights up as soon as he sees Vivy appearing in the doorway- Oh, hey. -he smiles, drops the book to the side and makes an effort to sit up- Did you get hurt or are you here to visit me?

Vivienne Astor I'm not hurt. I'm not likely to ever go where I'm liable to be hurt. -she comes over to him, glancing at the book that had been discarded so immediately in favour of her company, and pats Ares' hip- Move over. I'm going to sit on your bed with you.

Ares Melaina Hey, it can happen anywhere. -Ares almost immediately scoots, until he can feel the metal railing press against his shoulder.- I'm glad you're visiting me, though. I was gonna come find you once I was able to get up.

Vivienne Astor Were you now? -Vivienne regards him for a moment, then reaches to smooth his hair, tucking it behind Ares' ear- Why were you going to look for me, little one? Did you have something to tell me? Or show me?

Ares Melaina I don't know if you've went there yet. -Ares leans into the touch almost instinctively- I put up the cross for Hunter. You weren't able to go out while the Daybreaker stuff was happening. I, uh, put some flowers there. Hope that was okay. I don't know if he liked flowers.

Vivienne Astor -for a moment, Vivienne goes still, as still as if she'd been sitting on his bed touching Ares' ear from the beginning of time; then slowly she moves her hand to cup the back of his head- He loved flowers. He pretended they were for his wife, or for me. But he loved flowers. -slowly, she turns in the bed, her fingers against the back of Ares' neck as she kisses him, on the mouth first and then against one of his eyelids- Thank you.

Ares Melaina -He holds still, only letting out a little breath when she reveals Hunter loved flowers. The kiss isn't sudden, it's slow, affectionate in a way Ares isn't used to- No problem. I'm glad he liked flowers. Did he have a favorite? -His voice is quiet, because she's close. Ares raises his hand to gently touch her arm, then thinks differently and puts it back down, next to hers on the sheets- Do you like them?

Vivienne Astor Lilies. He liked all sorts of lilies. I wondered sometimes if he liked them because he thought of them as an Asian flower. -Vivienne smiles, bittersweet, and lets her eyes drift closed for a moment with how quiet Ares is; she misses his movement, that way, his rethought near-touch of her arm- I don't care about lilies. I like gerbera daisies. They're … silly. Cheerful. They don't know that they are and that's what makes them my favourite.

Ares Melaina You must've really loved him. -there's love and pain in her voice. He doesn't want to disturb her as she closes her eyes. There's a spark of recognition when she mentions daisies, there ever since the ranch- They're probably nothing like the regular daisies. I always liked those. -after a moment of hesitation, he shifts his hands, gently putting his fingers on top of hers- I put snowdrops on his grave. I can ask Mayra if she has gerbera daisy seeds. Or lily seeds. We could plant them.

Vivienne Astor But that's beautiful. Snowdrops. Quite appropriate as a funereal flower. -she lets his hand stay on hers, then curves closer to Ares- How hurt are you, little one? -Vivienne regards him for a moment herself, but then reaches to the side of the bed where she'd put down the zip pouch she'd brought with her, picking it up to open it*-

Ares Melaina -she doesn't pull away, just allow him to touch her, which he takes as a good sign- I'm okay. I mean, doctor says I'm over the worst already. Can't really leave the clinic for now, though. -he looks down at the pouch she's brought, looking at it curiously. He can faintly smell citrus, maybe coming from her- You brought something? Is it that oil? What was it called… negroni? Neroli?

Vivienne Astor Neroli. -she repeats it patiently, without an accompanying mean remark- The laundry scent that suited you so well. -Vivienne touches Ares' chin, tilting him about, and then tuts quietly- Aiya. Nobody's been grooming you. All stuck together. -producing a comb, she starts to swiftly part and comb through his hair in quick, masterful movements- I used to do this for Zack. And Hunter.

Ares Melaina Neroli. Right. -he relaxes, letting her tilt him around, taking the genle chiding in a stride- Sorry. -he offers, but she's already combing through his hair, quickly and elegantly. He melts a little into it- You did? I bet they enjoyed that a lot. It feels nice.

Vivienne Astor Yes, I believe they both enjoyed it very much. Boys do like being groomed, in general. -finishing combing out his hair, Vivienne wipes some neroli oil onto the comb and repeats the process again before putting the comb away- You should have your wounds tended with oil as they heal, too. So you don't get too many scars. -she sits back, regarding Ares' torso- Let me see.

Ares Melaina -Ares relaxes into the grooming, the scent of citrus filling the air, making him feel comfortable, relaxed as she puts him into shape again- Really? I didn't know that. -Ares doesn't hesitate, tugging up his shirt. His sternum is a bruised mess, small cuts and scrapes litter his upper body, already healing up- Does every oil work?

Vivienne Astor Not every oil. But even in this depleted world it's not hard to doctor some varieties that would help your skin knit back together soft… -Vivienne brushes her fingers against the edge of a bruise, the raised seam of a cut- …and smooth. -she does frown slightly after that, taking in the rest of the terrain- You have many scars already, Ares.

Ares Melaina -he breathes in softly as she brushes up against the bruise, so gently it doesn't hurt. Goosebumps rise on his skin from the touch. He notices the change in her expression, realizing she must've seen the rest of his body- Sorry. I got scraped up a lot of fights. Probably doesn't make much sense to use the oils on me. -he smiles, light-heartedly-

Vivienne Astor -her brows flick when he apologizes and her gaze goes a little fixed, like she's listening to a ghost from the past; by the time he finishes talking Vivienne's expression has firmed- I'll tend to your wounds myself. I know you have an unpredictable schedule, when you work. I can adjust to it. Think of it as -- a form of physical therapy.

Ares Melaina Really? -Ares lights up and meets her firm look, and it looks like she's already decided- I'd like that. That'd be great, actually. Thanks. -he smiles- I'll try not to be late. Do I come to your place? You, uh, live with Zack, right?

Vivienne Astor I've moved, actually. -Vivienne pushes further into the bed, taking charge and smoothing Ares' shirt down again, moving him so his head is rested against her collarbone so she can clasp him there- I'm in the green-roofed house by the supermarket. Recently vacated. You know it, I believe.

Ares Melaina -he soaks up the contact, relaxing against her with a soft sigh one arm draped around her.- Oh yeah, that's Fleet's house. -his brows furrows as he seems to think through what that might mean- So you don't live with Zack anymore? -he looks up at her- Is that okay for you?

Vivienne Astor It is not. Okay for me. -her tone is brittle, right up front, but then Vivienne shakes her head slightly, relaxing it- But it will have to be, and that might be the best thing in the long run. Since I'm here for the long run.

Ares Melaina Yeah. It might be. -he presses his face against her collarbone, squeezing her just a little more tightly- If you feel like you want somebody there, I don't mind coming over.

Vivienne Astor Is that so? -it's a question but Vivienne sounds smooth and unhurried in answering it, and she tips Ares' chin up so she can kiss his mouth; also smooth and unhurried, more sampling him than anything else before parting- You should, then. Come over to my house.

Ares Melaina -he doesn't protest, just like he didn't protest being shifted or touched before, both accepting and enjoying. When she kisses him, he kisses her back, warm and affectionate- Okay. Then I'm gonna come over. You just have to tell me when. -he settles right back against her- Unless you don't mind me showing up unannounced.

Vivienne Astor I'm often home. We don't have phones, at any rate, for you to call before visiting. You're a strapping boy, you can search for me if you want to come over. -she goes bck to petting him-

Ares Melaina Okay, I'm gonna. Once I'm out of here. Would you mind if I stayed the night? -he sighs contentedly. The warmth of her and the affectionate touches are starting to make him sleepy. His fingers trail over her back in circles-

Vivienne Astor You may. There's room enough in my new house for you to stay. And I like having someone in the house. -she pauses, surprised by the truth of the statement, and doesn't say anything further, waiting to hear Ares drift off into sleep before closing her eyes as well-

[lifewiththelulus]

Omg what if the kids sneak away to get them alone, thinking they’ll be doing whatever grown ups do on dates. But really Reef and Atlantis send the whole time trying to find them and worrying out of there minds. They eventually sit down to take a break and try to comfort one another about finding them.

Atlantis would freak out at first, and look absolutely everywhere calling for the three of them She probably gets so worried she gets sick in the bushes before sitting down. She's always been a little over protective of them and losing them like this was stressful as all hell. She apologized to him so much and promised that they normally don't run off when they're with her, she doesn't know what's up with them today

He tries to cheer her up by telling her stories. Saying this isn’t the first time Gulf ran off to God knows where. Once he just went across the street to watch TV with the neighbors. Another when he got on a bus to run away from home because he sent him to his room for sneaking extra dessert. The in the end he’s always back with him unharmed, and the same will happen with the twins.

It did help her a lot and she was able to breathe again after he started telling stories. He was right, they were in a group, and Mari and Gulf were both pretty loud they'd be fine if they're together. She felt a little silly for over reacting and apologized for the panic. She took the shades off her head and sighed "I'm new to the whole being a mom thing still. I don't know what I'm doing half the time, I'm just always scared I'm not enough." She paused and looked at him. "I-I don't know why I told you that. Sorry." She looked away and tried to hide her emotions again. It was easier not to embarrass herself that way.

Reef: Well if it means anything, I think your doing pretty well for raising two girls on your own at a young age. If anything I’m surprised how well you can hold it together for so long. At least I was over 18 when I started raising Gulf by myself. Can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you at first.

It was like he pulled her right out of whatever pool of thought she was sinking into. She looked at him softly. "Tough. But… I wouldn't change a thing. They mean everything to me." Her eyes glanced across the crowds with worry for them. "You should be proud. Gulf is such a sweet heart, and he loves you a lot. You mean the world to that kid."

He starts to feel all modest all of a sudden. Reef: Thanks, little guy can be a pain in the ass, but he’s my little pain in the ass. Gulf pops out from behind one of the trash cans. Gulf: Your a pain in the ass! Mari: You blew our cover! And things were starting to get good. Lotus stands up with them looking guilty.

Atlantis gasps and stands up. "You've been here the whole time!?" She looked at the girls. "How much of that did you hear??"

Gulf: Enough to know you guys suck at dates. (They’re still too young to understand most of what they were saying.) XD Reef grabs by the arm and crouching down to his level. Reef: You and I are gonna have a talk when we get home. And apologize to Atlantis for taking the girls with you and scaring her. Gulf pouts a bit at him but changes his tone when talking to her. Gulf: I’m sorry

Atlantis sighs but gets down on his level, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's ok, just don't scare us like that buddy. Any of you." She hugged Gulf then pulled her girls in, holding them all tight for a moment. She really was scared something might've happened the split second she had her back turned. "But you girls are still grounded when we get home. No video games for 2 days."

Mari: Aww What? Lotus: I’m never listening to you guys again. Gulf yawns and stretches. So Reef picks him up gives him a piggy back ride. Gulf: Hey I can walk! I’m not that tired. Reef: I know, but after the stunt you pulled I’m not letting you out of my sight. Gulf just laughs softly before rest his head. Lotus lets out her own little yawn and blushes.

Atlantis notices right away and holds her arms out. "C'mon you two, let's go get some food then we can go home and get ready for bed. I think that's enough excitement for one day." She kissed them each on the head before picking them up. "I Love you two, never scare me like that again ok?" She said it much more softly this time

Mari and Lotus snuggle up to her and enjoy the ride to the restaurant. Gulf is still a bit drowsy but perks back up when Reef mentions food.

They sit down all together at a restaurant and when the person is taking their order it goes like

"May I take your order sir?" "Yeah I'll get the ice chips and dip." "And for the Miss's?" simultaneously "OH I'M NOT-" "WE'RE NOT-"

Gulf jumps up to tease them XD “You arrrrre, You arrrrre!”

When they get back home Reef suggests they should hire a sitter so the next time they go somewhere it won’t be as stressful. Not realizing he unintentionally asked her out. XD

Atlantis froze up She didn't wanna say yes immediately… but saying no felt disappointing for some reason. She figured he meant just as friends since she had been pretty open about not wanting to date anyone. She finally nodded and asked if maybe he could teach her how to surf. She had never done it before, really going to the beach at all was a pretty new experience for her. She felt guilty that she wanted it to be a date, but told herself it was for the better.

A cute scene where he's guiding her how to surf a wave and she actually starts to have fun and show her real personality just a little, and she sees him in a much more relaxed and happy state doing his favorite thing They surf a few good waves together, then fall in and start splashing each other like kids and laughing. Then maybe they sit in the calm water side by side on his board and watch the sun turn the sky different colors as it sets

Having they’re younger years taken away from them, being able to act kids again would definitely be good for them mentally.

Atlantis never was allowed to behave like a normal kid She was always only supposed to be seen and not heard by her father

[idiotextraordinaire]

here it is!! im still trying to get into the groove of writing different characters accurately but i tried. I also originally wrote this at like, 1 am, so—

fic under the cut:

It had been a fairly uneventful mission for the four.

Well, if you don’t count the three uplinks which almost killed them.

Considering that they were still trying to recover from their previous mission when the Warden hastily dropped them down, they weren’t doing awful. They’d had to act as a diversion for another quad doing something more important, constantly setting off blood doors and having something unknown to them (but apparently extremely dangerous) just out of their sight, never able to be seen.

It had been an hour and a half of constant torture.

Woods specifically seemed to be the most affected of the four. He was mostly non responsive, basically just standing around until one of them snapped in his face to get his attention. He’d been off in his own world, his pale eyes blank as he looked at them without actually seeing them. Dauda couldn’t remember a time before their last mission, but he somehow knew this would happen. He couldn’t tell why exactly, but he found Woods familiar, beyond the one other time Dauda actually remembered the other prisoner. As if, deep down, Dauda knew he’d known him for years. How else would they be able to bounce off each other and work together so easily? Two strangers couldn’t often communicate with just their eyes, or instinctively know what the other would say.

Bishop and Hackett had been arguing about which zone to go to in order to get the ammo and meds they needed, and as they were, Dauda noticed Woods quietly slip away to the terminal they’d found. He watched him bend down to reach the keyboard, his absurd height forcing him to adopt an awkward position just to reach the keys. A moment later a terminal ping rang out, locating one of the boxes in the room. Bishop and Hackett glanced at it momentarily, then continued their arguing. Woods went over and opened the resource box, taking the medpack out and glancing over the other item contained in the chest before leaving it in there to go patch up whatever wound was bothering him. He sat down on top of one of the thick metal beams that scaffolded a large tube which went up into the wall; the refinery was filled with them. The only light he really had to work with was his flashlight and the work light near him flickering and cutting out sporadically.

Dauda walked over to him, offering to help by simply holding his hand out for the medpack, not saying anything. Woods glanced up at him, then hesitated. He gave him the pack and held his arm out for Dauda to see.

As Dauda gently lifted his patient’s arm, he saw the deep laceration, presumably from a grazed bullet. “Bishop?” he ventured, eliciting a short “mhm” from Woods. “Damn fool can’t control that AR to save his life,” the sniper muttered. Dauda simply chuckled, opening the first aid kit to grab some scissors to cut away the bloody cloth sticking to the bare skin and wound on Woods’ arm, working in focused silence.

He had no problem being silent around Woods. With Bishop or Hackett, they’d often talk to him, trying to banter back and forth like old friends. But with Woods, they usually sat in comfortable silence. He didn’t mind the talking of the other two, but sometimes it was too much. He did often wonder what Woods was thinking about, however. Dauda’s thoughts certainly wandered in between the lulls in conversation, often thinking about the nightmares he couldn’t shake, or the mutilated and infected corpses he and the others never talked about, always brushing them off and trying not to think about them.

Woods looked like he wanted to say something. Dauda gave him an opportunity to speak, then when he didn’t, pushed a bit further. “What is it?”

“W…” he hesitated again. Dauda wished he wouldn’t so much. “What do you think it’s like on the surface?”

Dauda paused. Whatever he expected, it wasn’t that. He sat in contemplation for a second as he picked the bit of shrapnel out of his shoulder. Woods sucked his teeth a bit, flinching. He dug his fingernails into his palms, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not sure,” Dauda said finally. “Certainly not as… metallic and.. depressing, I would hope.”

“Yeah,” Woods agreed, after a short pause. “Maybe not as bloody either.”

Another silence overtook them, slightly drowned out by the continued bickering between Bishop and Hackett. Dauda began disinfecting then wrapping his arm in the bandages from the pack. He could see Woods dig his fingernails into his palms again.

“Do you think everything looks as overgrown as it is down here? How it is in the floodways, I mean.” his voice shook slightly in pain.

“I’m sure that whatever people are alive up there are keeping places clean.. lived in. This place is sort of abandoned, after all.”

Woods glanced at him, then back away. “Not many people left up there, though, I’m guessing.”

“What do you mean?” Dauda looked up at him quizzically.

“Didn’t you read that log? About all those deaths. 3 billion people. All that from NAM-V.”

Oh. That. Dauda sighed. “Truth be told, I forgot about that.”

Dauda finished wrapping the bandage, patting Woods’ shoulder lightly. He sat up more, watching Dauda pack up the med kit. Sensing that their conversation wasn’t yet done (and not wanting to have to break up Hackett and Bishop), Dauda sat beside Woods. Another silence.

“Do you think we’ll ever get out of here?” Woods’ sudden question broke it.

“…I… am afraid to think about that.”

Woods let a small smile play in his voice. “Understandable. I just… don’t want to… I don’t want to spend the rest of my life down here, you know?” he confessed.

“None of us do,” Dauda replied.

“Only being for fetch quests and distractions, occasionally being considered useful enough to not be called ‘expendable’, I mean it… gets to me.” Woods shrugged. “I dunno.”

“It is a very… cruel fate.”

Woods glanced at him again. “Sorry for… getting really… I dunno. Personal. I guess.”

Dauda chuckled. “Do not worry. Me and you seem to see eye-to-eye anyway. Figuratively, at least.”

Woods scoffed at the joke. “I mean, we’ve barely even known each other for two missions and are already buddy-buddy,” he chuckled.

Dauda looked at him, with a strange glint in his eye. “I think we both know that’s not exactly true.”

literally about to clean up the fanfic i mentioned earlier and post it 👁👁 depends on when i actually do because social anxiety go brr but yk