#wonder how much hate I'm going to get for this one

[creamecafe]

I haven’t seen many fics about player 333 yet (Myunggi) 😔 Could you do maybe an enemies to lover type story with him!!!

Wicked Game | Myung-Gi Pt. 1

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You're stuck in the squid games fighting for your life. It also doesn't help that you are stuck with a wanna be rich scammer fraud.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Myung-Gi x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: enemies to lovers, hurt

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy this! Also the reader is an ex of Myung-Gi before the games. Please understand I don't HATE Kim Jun-hee, I just thought it would fit more for enemies to lovers. I also believe I may put this into two parts as the 3rd season is yet to come

If you would like to be tagged for the next part, let me know in the comments down below and I'll add you to the list!!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Joining the squid games could possibly be the last thing any person with common sense and a reason to live would consider doing. Unless they either had none.

That's what it looked like for you. The games you had to do to win 45.6 billion won had you either questioning if it's still worth it to still keep going or just to end it all on this island.

Out of all the people in these games, there's one face that you despised seeing and wondered how he's still alive after what he did, Myung-Gi.

He's your ex boyfriend. Being with him was great at first, but once he was invested in the crypto coin thing business, it felt like you're being cheated on. It also didn't help that he had an affair behind your back with a girl named Kim Jun-hee who turned up pregnant.

You didn't hate Kim Jun-hee, as you felt bad for her that your ex abandoned her and their baby, but the whole thing hurted you.

There's nothing more you wanted to get out of here with enough money to move to another place and start off fresh.

When you first woke up in the dormitory with all the other players, you wondered where this possibly could go. You looked around to see so many unfamiliar faces.

Then a man in a pinkish red suit all the way across the room wuth a black covered mas with a white triangle comes out from double doors and starts explaining why majority are here. Because of their debts.

They showed different videos of people playing Ddakji and getting slapped in the face. There was one face you recognized, your ex. It wouldn't be surprising that he was in debt for trying to chase after the crypt coin thing.

It looks like you're not the only one who hated him, many people who fell for the crypto coin were also mad at him. A purple-haired guy stood out from the rest, as he was a rapper you heard from others who were apparently fans. You had no interest in him or your ex but were wondering what the whole ordeal of winning money is.

You had to sign a waiver for the games, and you were soon directed to take pictures. It was rough enough. Then you would have to climb stairs that seemed like you were going to Mount Everest. You saw your ex from the right side across. You also didn't want to risk being seen.

Finally, you reached the first game after what seemed like an eternity. There was a huge robot doll and the whole layout was supposed to imitate a school playground with its blue sky and sand ground.

"Hey there pretty" You turn around and see the purple haired guy who was talking to your ex

"Who are you?" You exclaimed looking him up and down not in the mood to be hit on.

"I'm Choi Seung-hyun, Thanos for my music. You might of heard my raps before?"

"If I did, I probably would want to be deaf right now. Including not hearing this conversation."

He pretended to be hurt and put a hand over his heart.

"Ouch girl. Cold aren't you?"

You rolled your eyes. He sees another girl walks by and also tries talking to her. Poor girl, you thought.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called and look around.

"Y/N!" A hand fell on your shoulder and you flinched turning around.

It was Myung-Gi. Your panic turned into annoyance as you rolled your eyes again.

"What are you doing here?" He asks

"Should be asking you that too, but I think it's obvious."

"Can we please talk?"

"What's there to talk about Myung-Gi? You chose a cyrpt coin over me and cheated on me, and got another girl pregant"

"And I regret it very much. Please come back."

"Share those regrets with the others in here too, including the mother of your child."

He tried to reply back but you walked away from him, ignoring him.

Speakers came on, explaining the rules of the game.

A screaming man came into the front and said it's not what we think the game is. He exclaims that if you move, you'll die.

People around you scoffed and found the man crazy. It seemed like to you he was crazy too, but what if he was right?

He was still screaming telling people not to move a muscle when the game starts.

The robot started turning around and putting her hand up to the tree to not look at the other player.

It started singing.

"Everyone freeze!" The man in front says.

Nobody moved a muscle. Your eyes looked around and saw no one moving. What if the guys telling the truth?

The doll looked away and you started moving forward quickly along with everyone else.

"Everyone freeze!" Yelled again the older man.

There was a scream coming from a girl who moved. She laughed exclaiming she just moved. A bullet came through her head and she dropped dead.

The guy really wasn't lying then. One wrong move, you're dead. More people started moving and more gunshots were coming.

Bodies were dropping. People are screaming. This was a bad idea to be here. You were also pretty sure you were going to die with your ex boyfriend. That another cherry on top to add.

"If you don't make it to the finishing line on time, you'll also die." The man yells but has his mouth covered like he was going to take a sneeze.

It felt impossible to win this game. You were so sure you were going to win money but now the only thing you could be winning is death. You wanted to see if Myung-Gi was still alive.

But you couldn't risk being shot. Everyone sooned formed into a single file line. The man explained that the doll can't see what's behind a person if there's a bigger person in front.

More gunshots came. More bodies dropping. You couldn't stop now though. You're close to the finish line, you can feel it.

You soon reached the finish line relieved that you made it alive. You looked around for Myung-Gi to see if he's alive.

Why do you care so much about him? You thought to yourself.

It's just basic human sympathy you thought. Hating him is one thing, but him dying is another.

The game ended and you witnessed the man who warned about the game, you see his number was 456 and another, a woman helping a man who got shot in the leg reach the finish line get shot in the head.

This isn't just a game. This life or death. Everyone including you who passed were allowed to go back to the dorms.

Zoned out walking, seeing bodies and blood, you hear your name being called.

"Y/N!"

Turning around to see who called your name, you see Myung-Gi run up to you.

"Hey, are you okay?"

A light smile came from your face.

"Yes I'm alright and you?"

"Alive thank God." He chuckled.

You chuckled lightly but didn't know what to say after. Usually, you would have something smart to say to him but after what happened, you wanted nothing more to be out of here.

There were yelling and shouts to how the man knew they would shoot if you lost the game. They were accusing the man of being behind the game.

A pink guard then came out and congratulated us for completing the first game. It then if a majority voted to O, you could leave the game.

Everyone chose their own sides O and X. You chose X, even though you desperately wanted the money to be able to move to another city. You see Jun-Hee, his other ex, chose X too. Myung-Gi chose O, which you weren't surprised.

Unfortunately there were more O's than X's which meant you had to stay. You were heartbroken but also upset and turned to Myung-Gi. Now you wish he died in the first game.

You went up to him and turned him around aggressively and slapped him across the face. People looked at you guys, but you didn't care.

"You're really that selfish, you had to choose O?"

"Y/N-"

"The mother of your child is in this game and you choose O. I should have known from the start dating you was a bad idea. If these games don't kill you, I will."

You stormed off away from him and went to your bed. Myung-Gi probably thought you were bluffing about you killing him.

Something deep down you wanted to keep that word true.

It looks like you'll have to wait and see the next day.

𝙽𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙹𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!

[burdenandacrop]

˗ˏˋ ❝ all behind you now. ❞ ˎˊ˗

request from the lovely @memento-rory, i apologize for the slip up you might've seen where i posted a blank version ! did not mean to do that ... anyhow ! i'm sorry men r jerks and i hope this gives you some comfort ... even if this is almost two weeks late, don't hate me i love u so dearly.

summary : after building up the foundations of a relationship, it all comes to a crumble. so you did the only thing you knew best, go to him. since he always knew best.

⋮ ⌗ ┆fluff, friends to lovers, comfort, fem reader.

you stared down at your phone for what felt like hours, turns out it was just five minutes. the words 'this just isn't working for me' that your eyes were burning a hole through your screen over. so many sleepless nights spent to dedicate yourself to a man, or at least attempting to. all the effort, vulnerability, or whatever the hell, just wasted. you sniffle up and aggressively wipe away your tears that were beginning to fall, as if you were angry at the fact you were letting it get to you this much. you knew your worth, just why did it change when it came to him? you could've sworn you saw something so beautiful with this one, something that could've been so good. could've. why was it could've?

you shakily sigh and begin pressing your thumbs down to text him back, you knew you were working off only anger. that would only bite you in the ass, but you really didn't have much common sense in the moment. you sent off a message, was it maybe a bit too bitchy? yeah, but it was also bitchy of him to call things off right after you gave every last bit of you for the past few months. just for it to play right back into hook-up culture. you clicked your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of your bed, sighing into your hands as you wished the touch of your skin would bring you back to reality. a different reality, even. just a reality where you didn't cling onto shitty men for validation and act surprised when the guy who 'keeps things casual' isn't your prince charming. you knew the whole fantasy of love was merely a joke to you, or at least in your atmosphere. your luck just was shit.

you plop onto your back, you were already dressed up considering you were ready for the date you were supposed to go on. it all just felt so stupid. the stupid amount of time it took to do your hair, how messy your floor was from trying to pick out the perfect outfit for him. it was all for him. guess that was a waste. you sigh as you look up to your ceiling, hoping just something would talk to you. give you some opening of what was supposed to happen. it wasn't clear on what the hell you were going to do, it just felt hopeless at the end of the day. your queen sized bed was always going to have a cold side. your shower was always just going to be your products. you'd never have a big pair of boots by your sneakers beside the front door. what a cruel joke. suddenly, you heard the ear piercing ringtone come from your phone. god, he was probably calling you back over that stupid bitchy comment you just had to get out. way to go bruising your ego further.

you close your eyes for a moment, wondering if it was even worth picking up the phone to see whatever he was going to say to you. he wasn't worth your time, anymore at least. cause, really. what was it going to give you? just another thing to be upset about? you knew your last word was going to piss him off so really, was it worth the struggle of having to go through with that? though, something else was tugging at you. your own pride getting the best of you as you sat up to grab your phone, and rather aggressively. you look at the lit up screen, your knitted eyebrows softening as you realize it wasn't the outcome you were expecting. instead of an angry phone call from your failed lover, it was schlatt. did he get some sort of wave length that you were upset? you slide the answer button and sigh, knowing he'd be able to see how down you looked. too much of a bother to hide.

"hey bi- what the fuck?" schlatt mutters through the phone, his face dropping once he realized how ruined your makeup was. he made a gesture with his hand, waving in front of his face. "what's with the whole-" he continued, you sighed and rolled your eyes. "yeah. i know." you groan out, moving the camera away from your face a bit. it was embarrassing, to say the least. "you know the one dude i've been raving about?" you sigh, watching as you saw the gears in schlatt's head begin to turn, "yeah! so! he called it off today." you add on, immediately making schlatt stuck in a predicament. he really sucked at comforting people, he knew what to do; he just didn't want to. he only thought with logic so this whole deal was just another world to him unfortunately. "oh, well that's. not good?" he stammers out, he knew was probably making matters worse. he just cared about you and wanted to at least try. "you did your makeup and hair? for a breakup?" he adds on, only making you softly curse at yourself and wonder if he was dropped as a baby. like seriously.

"no i didn't fucking-" you take a breath to calm down, you weren't going to be mean to him just because you were angry at something else. that'd just be cruel. "we were supposed to go on a date today and he told me things were ending- like right before i was about to leave." you mumble out, almost embarrassed on the course of events. he just looks into the screen for a moment, trying to reel in any sense into his head so he can be the least bit of helpful in a situation like this. he's had his fair share of heartbreak but he just didn't know how to articulate it with, other people that is. "damn, he had his priorities straight." schlatt sighs out, immediately making you glare at him through the screen. "sorry, sorry. is there anything... i can do?" he stuttered out, he knew he was making this harder than it needed to be. he just was bad with this sort of deal, especially with you.

you close your eyes in frustration, just trying to find a glimmer of peace in this midst of this anger. it just seemed impossible though. "gonna be honest. i don't know. i just wasn't- expecting you to call or anything." you replied, palming your face softly as you tried to reel some sense into your head. "i can come over?" he abruptly stated, making you look back up to the screen in shock. it was kind of out of the ordinary for him to say anything like that. "you don't have to do anything like that." you sigh out, straightening your posture as you held your phone out. "no i know i don't necessarily- have to, but. figured you didn't wanna be alone. something like that." he explained, making you think to yourself. maybe it wouldn't be too bad? you hadn't seen him in about a week and he always managed to make you feel better, even if he was an abrasive asshole as a joke. "alright." you croaked, he clicked his tongue and nodded. you could see him immediately get up and move around with his phone. seemed like he was in his living room based on the background. "gotcha, want anything on the way?" he muttered as he was trying to find his shoes.

you thought to yourself, already feeling a bit guilty from the fact he was driving to come and see you. he had his own schedule and everything so you knew it took a lot for him to do something like this. "no- i'm alright." you mumble out, crossing your legs over as the frustration began to simmer out of you. you watched as you saw his camera shaking around as he was trying to get everything together, his eyes looking back to the camera. "well just sit tight." he gruffly stated, you could hear the jingling of his keys. "clean your face too." he added on, making you glare at him through the screen once more. "just get here safe." you replied with a groan, seeing how his eyes turned up. you couldn't see his bottom part of his face, but it was obvious he was grinning. "yup. see ya." he snickered out, pressing the end call button. leaving you back in the silence once more. maybe this was what you needed, as long as you gave yourself the grace to allow it to happen to you.

it didn't take long for him to arrive at your apartment, the second you heard the knocking you came bolting to your front door. as promised, you cleaned yourself up. didn't stop yourself from crying in the midst of it though, part of you just wanted to blame it on the makeup remover burning your eyes but you knew exactly why. you shuffled yourself in front of the door, flinging it open to see him. holding a bottle of your favorite soda and a smile, he saw how red your face had became from the tears. immediately sighing and stepping forward. "come here." he whispered, in which you immediately broke down and fell into his arms. he just pat your back as you sobbed into his jacket, not really caring whether or not it ruined the quality. "shh shh, it's okay. it's okay." he consoled you, gently shuffling himself so he could still hold onto you as he stepped into the doorway. he looked down to you and pulled away for a moment, kicking the door shut softly.

you wiped your face as you took a step back, looking into his eyes and knowing how miserable you probably looked. "thank you for coming over." you muttered, shaking off your sleeve as you tried to get a hold of yourself. "don't mention it." he whispered, patting the side of your arm. he leaned against the wall and pulled his arm up to display the bottle of soda, "here." he added, handing the bottle over to you with a weakened grin. you roll your eyes and take it, unscrewing it and taking a quick sip of it. was kind of comforting. "i told you i didn't want anything." you gently groaned as you screwed the cap back on. "oh i know, that was just my thing." he replied with a smile. looking over to your living room as he took off his cap to run a hand through his hair, "you wanna sit?" he added, looking back over to you. you itched your eyes and nodded, crossing your arms and turning to walk over to the living room. his hand waving over to gently rub your shoulder as the two of you wandered into the room. he didn't know if it was the right thing to do but he wanted to at least try.

you dramatically plopped onto your couch and criss crossed your legs, leaning back into the numerous pillows. schlatt sighed at the sight and took a seat beside you, giving you a decent amount of space. "am i that terrible?" you groan out, unscrewing your bottle to take another sip as you eyed schlatt. his eyes wandered back over to you, how was he supposed to answer that question? what if he said it wrong? "i wouldn't say so." he answered, fondling with his hands as he spoke. you sunk into the pillows and let out a dramatic groan, "seems like i am." you croaked, the emotions already wanting to build up in you again. you really were a mess, he could see it. was just a shame he really didn't know how to fix this all, as much as he wanted to. just something was holding him back. "it's just a joke. i do everything- literally everything. it's just not enough." you conclude, holding onto your stomach and trying your best to not break down then and there.

he sat there in silence for a moment, unsure if you wanted to continue on or not. he didn't want to take away your light, it's why he was here anyhow. "it just seemed so perfect, i hate it." you added on, he knew you weren't finished. you bit down on the inside of your cheek and brought your knees to your chin with a sigh. he tapped his fingers on his leg before speaking up, "did he say why?" he knew it was probably a stupid question, but he had to at least try. you shrug and pick at the lint of your sock, not even wanting to look in his eyes as you spoke. "said i wasn't what he needed in this phase of his life- which i would get, but. i centered him around everything. why couldn't he do the same?" you explain, the heaviness only growing in your chest as you spoke. schlatt leaned back into the cushion, turning his head over to you as he watched you do your usual anxious antics. it pained him to see you like this but he didn't know the right things to say or do. "busy? was that it?" he questioned, which only brought himself his own questions to himself. he'd just have to digress.

you pout your lip, knowing you were right on the verge of tears again, "yeah? i guess?" you trembled. the hitch in your words only felt like a bullet in schlatt's chest. you closed your eyes and leaned your forehead onto your knees. "why can i change my schedule for people, but they won't ever do it for me?" the tears falling at the end of your words, schlatt felt his heart sink as he watched your body twitch with the tears. he tongued his teeth as he pondered on what to say, he knew it probably wasn't the right thing to say but he had to get it out. "i actually had a recording, for my gaming channel tonight." he admitted, your head raising up as you heard him. "what?" you ask, wiping your nose as you eyed him. he just adjusted himself and sunk his hands into his jacket's pockets. "just saying there's people who'll make changes for you." he admits, fearing if it sounded too much in the moment. you stared at him for a moment, taking in what it really meant. "i didn't know- i'm sorry. you don't have to st-" you begin, but he really wasn't in the mood for anything like that.

"don't do that." he stifles out, dead staring at you. "i wanted to." he sighs out, shuffling his hands around in his pockets. you raise your head higher as you stabilize yourself, "why though? that's like- your whole deal and it's-" you begin, once again, he was not having it. "i wanted to." he cuts in, shaking his head softly. "just because he's a dickhead who cannot make time, doesn't mean i can't." he adds on, catching you off guard. his tone was so sharp, he wasn't smiling or laughing; something to take it back. "i can miss out on a recording. i can miss out on editing a video. i can miss out on- whatever the fuck. it's you." he says, the last words sounding like they weren't meant to leave his lips. "what do you mean, it's me?" you question him further, resting your legs down as you gently perch yourself up. "cause it is you." he replies, knowing he's probably dug himself into a hole. he was already this far, why not just do a flip at this point. "see, the whole thing is. you act like you don't know. yeah, it pisses me off. it pisses me off that you let these men walk all over you and give you the bare minimum when you know for a fact that's not what you deserve." he goes on.

"schlatt-" you start, leaning yourself closer over to him. he just shakes his head and crosses his arms gently. "no, because you needed to hear that. i'm sick and tired of watching you get burnt out by these stupid fucking men who don't even care to realize what i see." he continues, almost surprised that he's letting it get this far. "you're not stupid, far from it." he concludes, looking at you with a familiar look in his eye. then it hit you, it was the same look he gave you all the other times you'd cry to him. was that it? you pout your lips and sink yourself into the couch, what more was there to do or say? he saw how sunken you became from his words, he knew it was harsh. he also had a feeling you didn't really pick up on what he was saying. guess there was only one way. he sighed and scooted closer to you, almost wanting to reach his hand over to you, but hesitated.

your eyes linger over to him as he watched him move in closer, wondering on what he was trying to accomplish. "hey- i'm sorry, okay? it just irritates me." he reassured, the trembling in your lip only worsening. you shuffle yourself into the pillows further and sigh, unsure of what to do. "i just do feel stupid." you mumble, pulling at the end seams of your shirt. schlatt just shook his head and reached out his hand finally, placing it on your knee gently. "you're not. like i said, far from it. you're a smart girl." he fretted, you could hear the fear growing in his tone. he looked to the hand on your knee and slowly took his hand back in his lap. "i feel awfully stupid for thinking someone could actually fall in love with me." your words rang through the air, making schlatt silent for a moment. just looking into your eyes as he felt his body grow heavier with every time you spoke so lowly of yourself. "what's so bad about you, huh?" he stated, wondering on how far he was going to take this. if you would even notice the bait.

you shrug and look around the room, just thinking to yourself if you were just making yourself look more stupid in the process. seemed like a pattern. "i'm all over the place, i'm- clingy at times, i'm just not what most people want. it's like i'm stuck in this teenage mindset." you stammered out, trying your best to keep your eyes away from him. knowing full well he was about to burn a hole through your face by how intensely he was staring at you. "don't know if you've caught on yet but, 'most people' do suck. not your fault. just theirs." he proclaimed, thinking on whether or not that'd actually make you feel better. you just weakly grinned and wiped your face yet again, "jokes over now." you weakly state, only making schlatt drop his shoulders at the foul statement. it just sounded like nails on chalkboard to him, he hated he couldn't get through to you properly. "for the love of god, can i not make it any more clear to you?" he abruptly stated, his voice a bit louder than earlier. catching you off guard and made your blood cold.

"how many times do i have to tell you how smart you are, or how creative you are, or fuck- just how nice i feel around you. for you to get it." schlatt explains further, meanwhile you just sit basically shell shocked. "he's- or any other below the bar man, he's never going to understand you because he doesn't want to. i do. i do." he goes on, the anger in his tone only growing. though it wasn't a scary anger, rather just passionate. "i want to hear you talk about your weird niche interests, i want to know about the random thing you saw on the street because you thought it was funny, i want you to just-" he stops himself, taking a deep breath. "christ, [y/n]. i fucking- i want you." he gruffly states. the two of you sit in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of your heartbeats could be heard. "and i know. it's such a terrible time to admit that. if it's selfish, strike me down. but-" he begins, his eyes trailing away from you as he began to lose hope from the deafening sound of your silence. "you mean it?" you cut in, your voice almost sharp enough to cut through glass. his eyes shot back to yours.

"course i do." he says barely above a whisper, his eyes searching for any sort of discernment in your face. terrified that'd he eventually find it. "we don't have to inaugurate anything about it, this is about y-" he starts but before he can even get his last word out, you practically leaped onto him and kissed him. it was shocking to you on your part, how this was actually happening. it felt so surreal but right at the same time. maybe it was worth the wait of having to go through so many mediocre men, just had to see what was right in front of you first. he reached his arms to hold around your scalp to pull you in, this was all he could've ever wanted, and it was actually happening. he pulled away for a moment, as if he was trying to access whether or not this was real and not some fucked up dream. "thank you for having the balls to do that, i could never." he snickered out, trying to get a hold of his breath again. you just smiled and trailed your hands along his shoulders. "yeah, had a feeling." you grinned, the lingering thoughts of your failed romance now fading. "well keep that feeling. please." he replied, letting his hands rummage through your hair as he smiled at you.

the two of you just took a moment to look at one another, and really look. maybe it was there all along, just pushed in the back of your head. all you knew is that you were so damn glad you picked up the phone. this is what you were looking for, this is what you'd been day dreaming about. this kind of understanding, and it was right in front of you the entire time.

author's note : AAA !!! i am so sorry this took so long, but with the holidays and all [ blegh ] yknow how it is. i just hope you loved it as much as i loved writing it [ as always teehee ], kisses !!!

[fast-burn]

sloppy seconds, landoscar + mark webber or tbh whoever

yeah i'm Down To Clown with mark webber being in this!!

kink list here

XXX

"No way," Lando blurts when he shoves his hand down the back of Oscar's shorts and finds him already hot, wet, and open. "Did you start without me?"

"Something like that," Oscar demurs, eyes flicking down and away. Lando wonders, not for the first time, what the fuck is up with his long, light brown eyelashes. Every time he looks at them fluttering against the thin, lilac skin below Oscar's eyes, it's like mental. He has girl eyelashes, honest.

"Couldn't wait, huh?" Asks Lando because he really can't stop to ponder how pretty Oscar is when he's got his middle two fingers hooked right into Oscar's bum.

Oscar kisses him instead of answering, which is alright actually. Lando likes making out more than actual sex sometimes. When you're kissing someone they usually hold you close, all snuggly, so it's double the niceness. Lando licks Oscar's tongue and behind his teeth, and uses his hand snagged in Oscar's arse to pull their groins flush together. It's absolutely mint. Lando could stay like this forever, except he does kind of want to get off. His cock is throbbing in his sweatpants, eager up against the solid line of Oscar's erection.

Lando wiggles his fingers inside Oscar, sort of digging around in there. He's really wet. It's some weird kind of lube, a different texture than Oscar's usual. Lando breaks their kiss and pulls his fingers out, curious.

It's definitely not lube.

"Osc, what is this?" Lando blurts, but it's pretty obvious that it's jizz.

Decently fresh jizz.

"You said it was okay," Oscar says, voice going really quiet, hackles up. Lando hates when he does that. It took forever to get Oscar to relax and be a weirdo around him.

"Yeah, of course it's okay. But I thought we'd maybe talk about it first."

Truth is that Lando wanted to know what kind of blokes Oscar would go for if it was truly open season. There was some competitive part of him that wanted Oscar to go looking for someone supplemental but still come crawling back to Lando, because Lando was the best. He figured Oscar would be into other shy little nerds.

"It came out of the blue, that's all," says Oscar, starting to try and wiggle out of there, so Lando tightens his arm around Oscar's shoulders. "Wasn't much time to run it by you."

"So who was it?"

Oscar goes very still. He looks away again. He mutters something.

"Say again?" Lando asks.

"It was Mark," Oscar confesses, barely above a church mouse whisper.

"Webber?" Lando blurts, makes it sound like Wibbah by accident because he's a cunt and can't help himself.

"Sorry," Oscar mumbles, and Lando kisses him because he can hear the shame, the regret. He never wants Oscar to feel bad about anything unless it's because he came second in the WDC to Lando.

And Lando is kind of upset, but not because Webber is way too old, or because he's Oscar's mentor, or because Webber is not even that hot. Lando's pissed because--technically--Mark is better than Lando. On a purely win-based statistic. So there's only one solution: fuck Webber's come out of Oscar.

"Don't be sorry. It's so hot," Lando lies, because ew he doesn't really want to think about Webber's wrinkly old dick. He's like married. And retired. Gross.

Oscar starts to melt back into Lando's arms. "Yeah? You don't mind?"

"Not if you don't mind me taking my sloppy seconds," Lando says, unbuttoning Oscar's shorts and pushing them down his thighs.

"You're such a perv," Oscar says, wrinkling his cute fucking nose, but Lando can tell that he's not seriously complaining, because he follows up with: "Don't worry about prepping me, mate. You can just slide right in."

Oscar bends over the end of Lando's hotel bed eagerly. He's actually the perfect height for Lando, which is crazy Cinderella's-slipper shit, even if the position is kind of hell on his back and he'll have to slip out of Oscar later to do physio stuff on the floor. Oscar's hole does look used. It's hot pink and swollen. Lando feels another spike of irritation looking at it, so he puckers his lips and spits on it. Oscar shivers.

He's right, though. No prep necessary. Lando thrusts in with hardly any trouble, and Oscar moans, then grunts like Lando heard him once on the massage table, all guttural and loud. Webber's jizz makes a creamy streak up the shaft of Lando's cock when he pulls out. Bad manners, isn't it? To neglect a condom when fucking someone else's man.

Or is Lando fucking Webber's man? Technically Webber had Oscar first, but not like this, Lando is pretty sure. Maybe Webber fucked Oscar because he's jealous that Lando got inside him. Maybe he was all pissed-off because Lando planted his flag in Oscar's hole and took his gay-virginity.

Well, tough shit. Lando is going to be a champion and Webber has one foot in the grave, practically. Lando is going to fuck Oscar just right.

"That feel good?" Lando asks, barely stopping himself from adding baby on the end. They don't do pet-names. That would be a slippery slope for sure.

"Uh-huh," Oscar says. "Feels like you. So good--the best."

Lando might as well be ten feet tall. He's glowing like those big tree-things in Singapore, lit up from the inside and all the way up. Webber's come is smearing around Oscar's hole, Webber is the one who made him all loose, but he's not the one making Oscar groan and whimper now. He's not the one making Oscar say Gonna come Lando, please, please, you're making me come, oh-- Because Lando is the best. Get absolutely wasted, you geriatric old prick.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4])

it's still agatha and her river

mama, I'm sorry I got upset. mama I'm sorry we're both starving tonight. I promise I'll do better tomorrow.

a six year old taking responsibility and apologizing for his mother's shortcomings.

agatha looks down at her precious little boy's pleading face

and she smiles at him, and nicky gives her a big relieved grin.

evanora is not stealing this moment. she did her worst to fuck with agatha's brain chemistry, but in one fundamental thing she failed: agatha is capable of loving her kid. despite all her other shortcomings, she will never blame nicky for her own faults.

she does a cute little dance for him, and this is what they do, isn't it? he's too small to explain his big feelings and she is too scared, and so they sing to each other and hope the love is understood anyway.

see how he touches the brooch? if only she could have loved nicky in vacuum, without any of the emotional baggage. but he is only the last link in a long chain of witches, pain and and tears and blood that made him what he is. agatha cannot escape her identity and legacy no matter how much she tries, and she couldn't protect nicky from it either.

the last time she sees nicky alive he's smiling adoringly at her. this is the boy she can't face in the afterlife, because her own guilt is so strong she's convinced he will hate her.

nicky dies peacefully in his mother's arms. his soul wakes up and sees rio waiting for him.

that some good cinema dear lord

rio waves at nicky. he doesn't know her (when who will return?) but he still trusts her implicity - she's been around him his whole short life, in the woods, in the water, in his lungs.

and - the bit that destroyed us all - she makes nicky go to agatha one last time. go kiss your mama goodbye.

light and dark, growth and decay, here and beyond.

remember when alice died and the camera turned upside down? ot stops halfway here. agatha has been affected so profoundly by nicky's death that she can never let herself go back to the land of the living, but she's also too scared to follow rio to the other side. she's stuck in the middle, consumed by the impossible dream of bringing nicky back, never allowing herself to find peace and companionship again. in love with death, but running away from it.

(people never seem to make crack and humor vids for episode 9, isn't that curious? when it's soooo fun and lighthearted!)

well ain't that just brutal

I have always known

This Road is cruel and wild

I bury my own heart

Here with you, my child

(I think those are lavender flowers? I'm not 100% sure)

coolcoolcoolcoolcool. that's fine. I'm absolutely fine.

BARRIERS UP right away. even if she looks like a mess. especially because she looks like a mess. she's not showing weakness in front of anyone, she's protecting her grief like a jealous goblin, and since she cannot run, she straightens her dress and gets ready to fight. the option to ask for help and comfort doesn't even cross her mind.

her eyes still full of tears / agatha gets another wonderful, awful idea.

we've seen this so many times, haven't we? the real agatha disappears behind the character she plays. the agatha we've seen from the very start, since the moment she walked into wanda's living room, has been a lie. very few people have ever seen a hint of the poor bruised heart she hides inside, and only to rio and (to some extent) nicky she has ever opened up.

how can someone go from total heartbreak to planning murder in the span of two minutes? well, you can if you are agatha harkness and have never learned one healthy coping mechanism in your life. and I'm sure she's already rationalizing it as something like "if I get powerful enough I can bring nicky back." but the truth is, she just wants to get drunk on magic and murder and stop feeling so horrible. she's running away, like usual. she's planning to kill witches in front of the grave of the very kid who begged her not to, and she's using his song to do it. as if that's not gonna haunt her or anything.

(it really gets me how agatha's smiles are so different from kathryn's. agatha never smiles with her eyes, except when she's with nicky.)

agatha's diabolical scam is so stupid if you think about, definitely worthy of the clown she has become. just pretend the Road didn't open and then annoy people into attacking you! better than using a literal child as bait, I guess.

here she absorbs a yellow coven, and yep, it does look like covens are all supposed to be the same color?

the bodies from the agnes of westview opening.

orange coven in the late 1800s. I really like that dress and hat on her

blue coven in the 1920s, and another cunty outfit

I know you guys like the 90s look, but it makes me laugh how hard she was trying for that Craft vibe. and we don't see the beams color here.

and finally, our girls. (I miss you all so muchhhhh)

what do you know! looks like a door has appeared! (sharonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!)

from fuck has my karma caught up with me to well well well, looks like we have another little maximoff on our hands

and speaking of little maximoffs and giant assholes...

go to episode 9 part 5

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 41

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's (Mother Spore) pov*

You meet Boogeyman in front of Las Nevadas, It is a beautiful place really...very bright too, a bit too much for you.

You would say he's in formal attire but he wears a suit and tie wherever he goes so It's hard to tell the difference. He offers you his hand and the two of you make your way inside, as you enter the main building a man covered in green slime lets you in and leads the two of you to a more secluded room. Mumbo seems to know who he is so you don't question why you are just following this random slime guy.

"Did you know I have more then 200 bones?"

Oh you can tell this guy is fun, Boogeyman just looks taken aback though.

"Excuse me, mate?"

"Do you have more then two hundred bones Boogeyman from Hermittopia?"

"I would say so-"

"Dap me up!"

Mumbo slowly reaches out in a punching motion and slowly does a very akward fist bump. The slime man then turns to you.

"Oh sorry, didn't see you there Mother Spore from- ...Mother Spore from... ... ... ..."

Then he just smiles before turning and leaving. . . What.

There are a bunch of different people in various outfits already waiting at the table when you arrive... You lean towards Mumbo and whisper to him.

"Boogeyman, do you know these people already?"

"Not personally, no, but I know of them...they are villains from outside Hermittopia, I had to research some of them in the past."

"Hmm..."

Mumbo points to the various people around the table.

"The clown themed one is Jester, used to go by Pierce as a vigilante before becoming a villain... then is Xonorth, power allows him to create tendrils of darkness. Then are Pharaoh, Doctor Rat and Mot who is also called the Cretin and at one point was named Green man."

"Those are a lot of names for one person" You say, like the hypocrite you are.

"Tell me about it, imagine trying to research the guy."

Suddenly the door opens once more, a man with hair darker then night and wings golden like Sheriff's albeit smaller and with a slightly different shape enters the room. Oh wait, those are duck wings! Strangely adorable for what you assume is a villain of some kind.

"Good evening everyone, it is a pleasure to see that you all accepted my invite"

"What can I say, you calling us in the first place was unexpected" Jester says while placing his hands on the table.

"Yes, you never seemed like the collaborafive type Q" Pharaoh adds off handedly.

"Oh you wound me, I just had an offer I believe you'll find very interesting"

"Oh?" The green man perks up at that.

"Why yes! I assume all of you have heard of the eggpire."

...

You kinda...haven't, but judging from Mumbo's body language he definitely does...and so do the other, oh yeah these guys hate them... except Xonorth who just looks disinterested.

The Doctor moves closer to the winged man, movement similiar to that of ink... It's actually a bit weird to describe but you are also definitely going to be learning to do it. "I'm listening".

The others,one by one, nod along.

"Perfect, I knew you would see my point, now. Time to iron out the details"

Oh my this is getting exciting, so disappointing that your other body along with the vigilantes are approaching... going to run the fun for yourself.

*Grian's (Poultryman) pov*

You fly right behind Flame, behind you is Seraphin who is also flying and who decided to carry Wormman himself.

Las Nevadas is still at a pretty far distance when you start to wonder how much these vigilantes know. You fly a bit faster and lower yourself towards the ground to get to Flame's level so you glide next to him.

"So. How many villains are we going to fight, might be good to know."

"Boogeyman, Jester and Quakity"

... Huh...not wrong but there are definitely people missing.

"Just those three?"

"That's what our source said, It's supposed to be a small meeting of some kind... We also realized Mother Spore might be there as well.

"Oh... I see"

You don't know who their source is but it must be severely lacking in the "informing" department because you know there are more villains waiting, around double that amount... You are currently quite literally having a meeting with said villains at this exact moment.

Honestly It's lucky that they got you to help because without you they would have been annhilated.

"Alright...just, you should be extra careful"

"Huh...? Why?"

"I fought Mother Spore once"

"You did!?"

No, definitely not, but you are both so you just need to aknowledge it as both identities and nobody will know.

"Yeah... she's more threatening then you think....we need to take them by surprise""

Hmm... Yes, I agree. We'll need to stoppificate a bit before Las Nevadas though, better to get in using stealth."

"Great, I'll tell the others"

And like that you fly back up and towards the other two.

[peachhcs]

wait so what does will think about samy’s soccer offer?

because this would take place middle-endish of samy's junior year, i imagine gabe and ryan signing on with their nhl teams after their second year at boston—so in this they're already in their rookie season with the ny rangers and washington capitals.

i wrote ryan, gabe and will’s reaction all in one. i lowkey hate this, but it’s fine. i thought i was gonna drag out samy’s decision a bit longer, but she seems pretty decided in this part..sooo woohoo samy’s becoming a professional soccer player!!

au masterlist | previous part

"there she is!" ryan exclaimed when samy walked into the restaurant. the girl quickly smiled, hurrying over to hug the two boys standing up from their table. ryan embraced her first, a large grin on his features before passing her to gabe. 

"good to see you, hughesy," gabe squeezed her torso. she pulled back to admire their faces after not seeing them since summer. 

"it's good to see you guys too. i wanna hear all about your seasons so far," she gushed. ryan and gabe's teams happened to both be in detroit this weekend with games right after the other, so the three agreed to grab lunch in between. 

"we wanna hear about yours, miss 2nd national cup holder and captain," ryan pinched her arm as they finally sat down. the blushed deeply, quickly brushing him off. 

"it's honestly a dream come true. i'm so lucky to have a team like them," the girl giggled, eyeing the menu for a second. 

"sorry we couldn't be there this year. we saw the highlights though and you guys dominated that field," gabe added and samy grinned. 

"if you end up going pro, you're gonna build that program," ryan chuckled and the girl's ears burned hearing him say that. she bit her lip for a moment, wondering if she should just bring it up now that ryan mentioned it or wait. samy's been fighting a lot of internal battles lately, but she decided to just tell them now and get it off her chest or else she'd be anxious the whole lunch. she reached for her purse.

"speaking of going pro.." she slowly slid the envelope from her pocket, both boys watching her carefully, "i got a letter from albertin montoya. he's the head coach for bay fc, the women's professional soccer team in san francisco," she slid it towards them. 

gabe and ryan exchanged a glance before slowly eyeing the envelope. ryan grabbed it first, tearing the letter out while gabe leaned in to read over his shoulder. the soccer player watched their eyes slide across the page, eyes widening with each word they read.

"samy, holy shit. this is..this is awesome," ryan mumbled in disbelief.

"since freshman year? that's crazy. he knows you have talent," gabe jumped up to give the girl another congratulating hug. she giggled when ryan joined the group hug a second later. 

"so so proud of you hughesy," the taller brunette hummed, ruffling up her hair like a brother would. she flushed at their praise. 

"thanks guys..it's pretty crazy. i'm still wrapping my head around it. there is a small, small catch though," she got to the tougher side of the news as the boys sat back down. "he wants me on once my junior year is over which means i forfeit my last year at mich." 

"oh. of course there's a catch," gabe rolled his eyes a bit as ryan glanced at the letter again. 

"i guess that means you have a lot of talent in his eyes if he wants you that soon and badly," ryan commented, but then met his friend's gaze and saw the look in her eyes that both of them have grown to know really well over the years. 

"wait are you thinking about not taking it?" gabe quickly asked when he saw the look too.

"i don't know," the youngest hughes admitted making their eyes go wide again. 

"samy, you can't not take this offer. if you don't—"

"i know, i know. if i don't i may not get another offer like this again, but you guys gotta hear me out with this one. michigan has been my own life. it's what my family's built on. we moved to michigan because our parents saw how much we'd flourish here. it sounds crazy but it has this pull on me that's hard for me to let go of. not to mention just losing my senior year at michigan in general. i've dedicated 3 years of my life to that school. it's not that easy walking away from it," she cut gabe off and rambled off her explanation so they could at least hear where she was coming from. their faces softened hearing her say all of that about the school. 

"is there any way you could just not sign on officially yet and play your last season at michigan then once that's over, you can sign on officially?" the dark-haired boy wondered. 

"i emailed a bit with him and he said he wants me on all or nothing. it's crucial i start the regular season with them," the brunette shook her head. 

"well maybe look at this way. you played three great seasons for michigan. you built their program from the ground up. you left them with that legacy and those skills. it's like us leaving boston after two years. we left that program knowing there was a lot of great guys coming into it and continuing our legacy. there's girls on that team who look up to you and wanna do the same once you leave, so don't think the program won't be the same if you leave. you built that for them, so of course they're gonna use it. all of what's happened at michigan has helped you get to this moment that i know has been your dream for a long time," ryan's words weren't ones samy was expecting, but she appreciated hearing them. a soft blush spread across her cheeks. 

"it sucks having to leave a place and people you love, but it helped you gain so many new experiences and opportunities, like the one right here. if this guy has been looking at you since freshman year, then that has to mean something. to him, you have raw, real talent that he knows can excel even further in a professional setting," gabe added. their words were so sweet it almost made samy cry as she chuckled and tried playing off all the sentimentality. 

"you guys are soo cheesy," she giggled playfully making the boys smile. 

"i know it's hard, hughes, but this door will open so much for you. you're gonna go so far, i know it," ryan pinched her arm in a loving way. 

"it's just so weird to think about picking my life up and moving it away from my parents and my home."

"it's always really weird, but you won't be alone. you'll be closer to will. and mack. and quinn technically. you'll at least be on the same coast," gabe added and samy nodded. 

"what did smitty say?" ryan asked and the girl flushed. she fiddled with the ends of the table cloth, "i haven't told him yet." 

"you haven't told him? why?" gabe quickly asked.

"i don't know. i think i got scared of his reaction so i held off. i was still..feeling overwhelmed by everything and i didn't wanna put this on him yet," the brunette admitted. 

"hughesy, you know he's gonna be ecstatic. he's been talking about getting you to california since he got drafted. don't sweat his reaction," ryan reassured with a nod. 

"i know, i know. i just get scared to tell him certain things sometimes. i know he's gonna be so excited," she laughed lightly. 

"i get it, but he's not that guy anymore. he loves you, samy. like really loves you. he's gonna be so excited to hear about this. and if you're still feeling doubtful, maybe it's something you guys can talk about and how he managed moving across the country for a once and a lifetime opportunity," ryan laughed too.

"well..he technically didn't handle it the best because.." gabe's voice faded off, deciding to not finish that sentence. ryan and samy laughed though.

"right, yeah. i know what you mean. i'll tell him probably after tonight. i've just been trying to hype myself up," the girl hummed, feeling a little lighter about all of this after talking with gabe and ryan. 

now that the big topic was out of the way, the three spent the rest of lunch catching up. ryan and gabe gushed about nhl life while samy talked about her second national title. she always loved catching up with those two because there was never a dull moment with ryan stuffing his face with food and the two of them trying to talk over one another. 

later that night after samy got back from the game, she decided to call will. it was only 7 his time and he was definitely still awake. she propped her phone up against her desk while she began changing into comfier clothes and waiting for him to connect. 

"hi, baby. did you just get back?" his face appeared on her screen a moment later. he was walking into his room and shutting the door behind him. 

"yeah, like ten minutes ago. it was a great game. gabe's so fast on the ice," she giggled. 

"yeah, he's crazy. was lunch good?" 

"it was great. we caught up. gabe and ryan were gabe and ryan like usual. i missed seeing them, so i was glad we were able to catch one another." 

"i'm glad to hear that. they were excited to see you," will smiled. he would always love how close his old linemates and girlfriend became. they looked out for her like brothers and that was something will really came to appreciate when he wasn't around as much anymore. 

"so..i have some news for you," the girl sat back down in her chair once she finished changing. 

"what's that?" the blonde wondered. 

"i got a letter from albertin montoya the other day. he's the head coach of bay fc which is a women's professional soccer team in san francisco. he said he's been following me since freshman year, admires my talent and hardwok and wants me to sign on with bay fc at the end of this school year," she watched will's eyes widened the same way ryan and gabe's did earlier.

"are you joking?" 

"no, i'm not. i have the letter right here. it's crazy right?" samy breathed and showed the envelope in the frame. will's jaw snapped open, so much shock and disbelief on his expression.

"babe, you're kidding. holy shit. this is like pro soccer?" 

"yeah, pro soccer. i didn't even know he knew my name," the girl laughed. 

"baby, oh my god. i always knew you had it in you. holy shit. this is incredible," will was smiling from ear to ear at the news making the youngest hughes blush. 

"i'd have to forfeit my senior year at mich if i take it though which has been kind of hard for me and deciding," she frowned a bit. the hockey player quickly frowned too.

"damn, really?" 

samy nodded, "i've been talking about it with everyone though and i think i am going to take it. i'm gonna miss michigan and my senior year, but i also wouldn't have this opportunity without any of this or then and i think if i didn't take it it'd all be wasted." 

"i know it's hard leaving a place you love, but this is a crazy great opportunity for you, hughes. this coach has to know you have the skill if he wants you so soon. plus, you won't be far from me," a tiny grin spread across will's face because he's been dreaming of the day him and samy wouldn't have to do long distance for long periods of time anymore. a smile appeared on samy's lips as well hearing him say that. 

"that is a plus of it, yes," she giggled.

"seriously though, i think this will be a really great opportunity for you. you left a really, really great mark on michigan that i don't think anyone will ever forget your name there," the blonde laughed. 

"how did you managed moving so far away from home? that's another part that still gets me because i've never been that far away from my parents before," samy wondered softly, resting her chin on her knees that were pulled to her chest. 

"honestly, we both know i didn't handle it well at first," a laugh escaped their lips again because now it was something they could laugh about, "but i guess i just remembered that my family will always be there for me no matter what. i know if i ever needed something my mom wouldn't hesitate to fly out and be there for me and i know your mom is the same. it's a really hard adjustment, but it's not like they won't be there anymore you know? they'll always be there." 

"yeah, you're right. i think this will be really good for me. i happen to really like the west coast too," the couple shared a laugh. 

"it's gonna be really good for you, samy. i've watched your talent for eight years and there's not a doubt in my mind that you'll do really great over here," his words made the girl blush. 

"looks like we better start planning what to do when i get there then," she grinned.

[animamii]

highschoolsweetheart!Eren always asking you out to school dances by performing a Justin Bieber song for you.

It all started in Freshman year biology, the two of you sharing earbuds plugged into your phone. You have your liked songs on shuffle. All basic stuff, some Kanye, My Chemical Romance, The Weeknd. Just things you knew anyone, including Eren, would enjoy. Nothing you'd be embarrassed to play, none of your guilty pleasures. That is until One Time by Justin Bieber starts to blast through the headphones.

Me plus you...

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening as you look straightforward. Refusing to turn to look at Eren, who you can see out of your peripheral vision already looking at you with a smug smirk on his face. A soft snort leaves his nose, and you can feel your face getting hotter and hotter.

"Didn't know you were a Belieber, y/n," he teases, eyes still locked onto the side of your face. You take a deep sigh, your eyes shut as you slowly turn to look at your best friend.

"I grew up listening to him, Eren. Like every other little girl. I'm not a damn Belieber," you muster out, chest still tight from the embarrassment. You knew the situation wasn't that serious, but you and Eren had this will they, won't they situation that you didn't want compromised by your preteen music taste.

"Sure, you aren't," is all Eren says with a snicker and playful shake of his head as he continues to do the classwork. In all honesty you thought he would egg it on even more, continuing to tease and pester you over having 2000's teen pop sensation Justin Drew Bieber in your playlist. But no, the green-eyed boy drops the subject and forgets about it altogether.... right?

A couple months later you sit with your friends at lunch. Sasha downing her burger and school milk as Historia fills you in on some gossip, Ymir chiming in with her pessimistic opinion every so often. All you do is nod and listen, laughing at every snarky remark Ymir adds. The quad is littered with students, at lunch tables, walking around and talking with friends.

"Heyyy y/n please don't hate me for this, but I have to do this or else I'm getting my ass beaten or eaten," Connie shuffles to your lunch table, a good-sized speaker in his hands as he sits in on the table, turning it on.

"Do what??" You ask cluelessly, brows furrowed as you watch Connie plug in his phone and throw a thumbs up at someone. Your eyes follow his gaze, to Jean, who is standing like a damn weirdo next to something hidden out of your sight. Jean nods at Connie and gives a thumbs up back, to which Connie nods back as he presses play on his phone.

"What the hell are these boys doing?" You mumble to yourself until you hear it. That dun, dundun followed by adolescent vocals. Your face turns white, all color drained as you hear young Justin Bieber singing. Turning to Connie, you look at him with that 'What the fuck is going on?!' look he was so used to. All Connie does is nod his head to where Jean stands, with Jean giving you a shit eating grin and a wave. He turns to say something to someone next to him, some kind of signal. And there he is.

Eren freaking Yeager, dressed in a damn gray button up, opened with a black shirt underneath. And somehow some damn purple shoes, just like Justin in the Baby music video. With so much energy he jogs out into the middle of the quad, arm out to you as he lip syncs the opening verse. just shout whenever, and I'll be there. With every word he does the accompanying choreography, which has you wondering just how much effort this boy put into his little stunt. Shuffling his way over to you, his smirk grows as he sees your pink blushed cheeks that you try to hide as you cover the smile that starts to form.

"We're just friends. What are you sayin'?" He places his hands on your shoulders as he sings to you, people in the quad starting to stop and stare as he does those flashy music video jumps and hops Justin does. Ymir points to you two, her laughter drowning under the loud music from the speaker, Connie next to it as he nods his head to the beat and hypes up Eren. Soon Ludacris's part comes on, Eren turning around for a split seconds before spinning to face you once more, sunglasses now on his face as he raps along.

By the time Eren launches into Ludacris's verse, the entire quad has erupted into cheers, laughter, and even a few people pulling out their phones to record. His enthusiasm is nothing short of infectious. He’s moving with the confidence of a boy who knows exactly how ridiculous he looks—and doesn’t care one bit. Anything for you, right?

“Eren, stop!” you shout, though your voice is laced with laughter, and your hands are desperately trying to cover your face. But it’s no use; everyone is staring, and Eren is unstoppable. He drops to his knees dramatically, sunglasses barely clinging to his nose, and grabs your hand like he’s in a cheesy rom-com.

“When I was 13, I had my first love!” he belts, holding your hand up like he’s about to propose. The crowd goes wild. For a glimpse of a second he smirks, a devilish idea popping into his adolescent mind. He starts peppering kisses from your hand and up your arm, causing the girls watching to squeal a bit.

Your friends are no help. Sasha is choking on her burger from laughing too hard, Historia is clutching her sides, and Ymir has fallen over onto the bench, howling like this is the best thing she’s seen all year. Connie is doing some kind of two-step next to the speaker, hyping Eren up like a DJ at a concert. And Jean is just proud that all the practice had paid off, he would have been livid if Eren didn't do what he had taught him.

By the time the song wraps up, Eren’s out of breath but still grinning ear to ear. He tosses his sunglasses aside with a flourish and takes a low, exaggerated bow in front of you. “y/n,” he says loudly enough for the whole quad to hear, “will you do me the honor of being my date to the dance?”

Your face is burning hotter than the sun, but you can’t help but smile. The entire school seems to be waiting for your answer, the chants of “Say yes! Say yes!” growing louder by the second.

“Fine,” you say, trying to sound exasperated, but the grin on your face betrays you. “But you’re lucky I don’t die of secondhand embarrassment before then.”

The quad erupts into applause and cheers as Eren pumps his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. “Let’s gooo!” he shouts, and Connie cranks the volume up for the final chorus of the song, with Eren dramatically singing along one last time. He keeps his arms around you as he sways the both of you back and forth, the biggest grin forming on his face as you start to voluntarily move along with him. As the song ends, he places a sloppy kiss to your cheek. You groan, burying your face in your hands, but deep down, you know you’ll never forget this moment—or Eren’s goofy, fearless way of making you feel like the center of the universe.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿

Def gonna make another part to it, didn't know if it was too long or nott. Thought just popped up into my head and I was craving some Eren fluff.

[stellar-solar-flare]

So, Anika, I'm actually going to be doing this comment in a few parts to ensure I can give this the full attention it needs because my gods I love it! So I hope you don't mind a few reblogs instead of one and not hearing everything I think at once because my poor brain can only survive so much protective knight Steve before it blue-screens to death.

As I have mentioned, I really really love these two, and I'm super excited to dive into the continuation of their story. I know I was pestering you about this one and it deserves way more love than it has so far gotten (and I myself have not done a very good job at commenting in a prompt manner, sorry about that). I am so so excited to be here now.

Cut for length/spoiler reasons.

I wonder, with the notes in the first part about how it was too early to reveal the pregnancy to Steve and the way she thought how her daughter might grow in a better world was her foresight and it had to do with this. Because I imagine that Steve would have had even harder time asking her to come here to help if he had known - if he had taken the route of just going to her and leaving the country, even if it meant abandoning his values and vows and not attempting to help the innocent.

And oh, what a beautiful way to start the story, even as the events that happen to Tony are not so beautiful. I love how you set the stage here with all the different sensory elements, and how it forms this sort of… record scratch when Tony’s situation is revealed. I love the contrast here.

on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana.

Hi AD, lol. That’s not her name in my headcanons but hehe. Sorry, I had to. Also I enjoyed seeing Thor and Jane together because I’ve definitely shipped them since Thor I.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

We love Banner being good at his job and not caring whose ass he has to kick to be that.  

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool.

Are you sure about that, authoress? I mean… Considering some of the avenues I know he’ll yet to take in the story. But I definitely think Howard is in character here, and I love how you describe him – and Steve’s silent disapproval, too.

“It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

Oh, wolfsbane. No wonder that it’s not the easiest thing to treat. And poor Pepper – I’m glad that Clint at least cares about her sorrow.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

Ah, Bucky Barnes, attempting (and mostly failing) to stop Steve from being a dumbass in every universe. I’m glad here he had Sam for support, too – good quick thinking, Sam! If only he knew most of the damage had already done at the ‘getting married to a witch and getting her pregnant’ part. Also I fcking hate Howard here.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

I enjoyed seeing that in addition to the whole ‘not wanting the innocent to die’ there was also this more selfish motive of Steve wanting to protect his beloved here. At least that’s what I thought was implied here – in addition to, of course, preventing the war and also ensuring that he could remain close to her. I always enjoy people having layered reasons for doing things.

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat. He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted.

And while it hurts my heart to see all this, I still enjoyed how hard it was for him to make this call – I love the description of the nausea clawing its way up his throat.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

Steve Rogers at his very core essence, thank you very much. We love him and he deserves absolutely everything.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

LOL. I mean. Steve, darling, what exactly did you expect. And ugh, learning about Howard’s attitude towards women is no surprise but also makes me wish that the poison would be in his heart instead.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

And I enjoyed seeing Bucky’s shock here. At his core he is probably not surprised, but he’s been taught all this propaganda about witches, and his arguments do make sense. It really highlights the gravity of what Steve is about to do here, what sort of risk he’s taking, when even Bucky, who very much knows how Steve would never endanger innocents and all that, is this taken aback by the idea.

“Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

Ah, protective “I am willing to scorch the earth for her” Steve my absolute beloved. It’s a few hundred years too early for nuclear Armageddon but the spirit is there alright.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

Ohhhhh I LOVED the parallel of this to the way that we see Steve make his choice in Civil War and becoming a nomad to someone he considers family and loves.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Bucky Barnes needing a drink in every universe. But I agree with Steve here. It’s not foolish and I love the description and the reference to the Bible(? I think that’s a callback to Corinthians and if so, I adore you capturing this medieval spirit of folk beliefs and biblical things coexisting in Medieval Europe for a long long time, some might say to this day).

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s– she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

And I agree with you on this one, Bucky would definitely be hurt, and I feel like he’s only resigning here because he knows Steve will do whatever Steve will deem necessary to go to her. Like there’s no stopping him when he gets this way and  Bucky of all people is definitely the one to know that.

Alright, alright, we are at the cut, and I have this anticipation for the future developments in my stomach. Eek. But I know there’s a happy ending, so I shall strap in to enjoy the ride into it.

I haven’t said it enough but you are so talented and amazing, and I adore this universe and your take on both Steve in all universes and this specific Steve so, so much, so thank you for sharing your gifts with us.

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R.

Part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,6k

Summary:  Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

“Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

[oralmisery]

Dear the King of Hawkins

The Love Letters were a means of catharsis, a way for Eddie to bare his soul. In private. They were never supposed to be sent.

Especially the one to Steve Harrington.

Basically a To All the Boys I've Loved Before au💌

[ complete fic on ao3 ]

Rating: E | WC: 12,293 | tags: Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Light Dom/sub, Dom Eddie, Sub Steve, One Shot, Porn with Feelings

When Steve sees the envelope he isn't sure what to think. It takes him a moment to even register who Eddie Munson is. In Steve’s circles, he’s usually referred to as “The Freak”. 

Munson is practically a permanent fixture of Hawkins high. A smear in the background, here to blemish Steve’s senior year since he flunked his own. If it's not Munson then it's some other oddly dressed weirdo. There's always people like that. The outcasts, the dregs, the ones you ignore. Except Munson. He’s pretty hard to ignore when he’s standing on lunch tables and being generally obnoxious. It's probably why there's so many rumors about him. Well that and being one of the only sources for drugs in town, Munson squeaks out of most beatdowns; what people can't punch they talk shit about.

People say all sorts of things. Satan worshiper. Nerd. Loser. Trash. Creep. Dangerous. Freak. Steve’s not sure how he can be a nerd and dangerous at the same time but he doesn't give it much thought. He's never even spoken to the guy. Tommy always got the weed on the rare occasion they wanted to smoke. 

That's why getting a letter from him was weird. It came in the mail. The mail. Mixed in with bills and coupons. It has a stamp, a little American flag. There is no reason for the guy to reach out to Steve, especially through the postal service.

Dear the King of Hawkins,

I'm sure every day is a sunny one when it's spent on a throne and under a crown. The way you walk these halls no one would believe otherwise. Everyone around you–drawn to your wealth, your looks and confidence–are just subjects turned fools. Led equally by charm and wrath. I wonder what it would be like to be favored in your court? To sit at your side, shoulder to shoulder, instead of distanced by so much more than just space? I can only piece together a flawed fantasy. A distorted image made from the glimpses I get from outside the castle gates. Assuming I’m even considered part of the kingdom, that is.

What the fuck is this. Steve snickers, did the freak send him a sad hate letter? Maybe to everyone in school? Tommy was going to have an absolute riot when he showed him, maybe they can compare letters.

I hope you at least know my name, Hawkins being as small as it is. You've never once looked at me like you actually see me. I know because I can't stop looking at you. Even though you're an entitled asshole, I happen to agree with what anyone with eyes can see. You are so beautiful I think they need to make a new word for it.

Alarms start ringing in his ears. He scans that last line over and over. No matter how many times he reads it, it doesn't change. He checks the front of the envelope to make sure it's really from Munson.

I wasn't surprised when you received your royal title. You’ve always had a way of commanding attention. Inspiring people to follow you blindly with enduring loyalty. I noticed it when I first moved here. I joined the 5th grade class halfway through the school year and everyone already knew each other. I was alone and scared shitless. I know you don't remember but that first week you invited me to a game of tag on the playground. You were genuinely nice, funny even. You made me feel like I could actually have friends here. Then Tommy returned to school after having the flu and we never talked again. I still remember your grin though, you had a tooth missing on the bottom row. Sometimes I see hints of that kid now, usually when you're talking up girls. I've got this sadistic urge to see your smile with a few teeth missing, just to compare you with your younger self. Which is entirely plausible with the fights you get into, but I fear the temptation to kiss you better will be too much.

He's right, Steve doesn't recall that at all. He's trying in vain to remember, but his memory has never been great and he's coming up blank. Can't even imagine Munson as a little kid, probably without his signature long hair. Nobody describes Steve as nice and actually means it. He skips over the word kiss because it’s giving him a terrible stomach ache. He drops into a chair and sets the letter on the kitchen table so the sweat on his palms doesn't smudge the paper.

Ya know, while I agree with the king stuff, I much prefer “The Hair”. Talk about temptation. Your hair haunts me. It makes my brain stutter, I want to simultaneously pet it softly and pull it out of your skull. I get why people used to give locks of hair as mementos. If I had a piece of yours, I'd twirl it around my fingers, imagining what I could do to the source. I want to see those brown waves messy, tug on them until your head looks like a bird nest. I want to see your hair spread out on my sheets. I want to find strands of it on my jacket, in my van, and clogging my shower drain.

It's hopeless, this infatuation. Fucking terrible in all honesty. You're a distraction I can't afford. I'm pretty sure I failed history last semester solely on the fact that you chew pens. It's a cruel combination; wandering attention and a vivid imagination. With the amount of times I've pictured you stretched around my cock, fingers, and tongue I can almost recall you clenching down on me like a real memory. I imagine opening you up real slow until you're begging for it with tears dripping down your face. The background changes like flipping through channels on a TV. Over the hood of your stupid car, Mrs. O'Donnell desk, the picnic table behind the school, anywhere that has a surface really. I probably imagine us most in my bed though. 

Steve’s stomach twists and revulsion burns his throat. It's fucking gross, Munson is a guy . And why the hell would Steve be the receiver in all this? Unwanted, graphic images play behind his eyes. He can't help it, the letter is descriptive. He can feel cold metal on his stomach and wood chafing along his back. Taste phantom salt from tears. He reaches up to run a jittery hand through his hair but aborts the gesture midway when he thinks about Munson wanting to do the same exact thing.

He considers just ripping up the letter without reading the rest but sick curiosity stops him. Like peeking out between fingers to watch a scary movie.

If it was just lust I could handle it. Teenage hormones and all that. But it's deeper than that, more than sex, I want you to look at me like everyone looks at you, like a king. It's horribly cliché but I want you to call me baby and hold my hand. Most of all I want to show you that someone cares about you because I'm worried you don't know that. There's this look on your face when no one else is watching, like you're not here but you want to be. Like you're waiting for something that's not coming. I think it's loneliness. Heaven knows I've felt it enough to recognize it. Maybe that's why I'm still harboring this torch for you even though it’s pointless. I wish I had the chance to make you happy, to take care of you and erase the word abandonment from your vocabulary. Even now, through the crowd, in the bleachers, the other side of the cafeteria, across the entirety of this shitty town, you're not alone because I'm there loving you every second of the day.

Yours,

Eddie Munson

A drop of liquid falls onto the paper, right next to Eddie’s signature. It knocks Steve out of his mental spiral and he reaches up to wipe at his eyes. He didn't even realize they were leaking tracks down his face. 

you're not alone because I'm there loving you every second of the day.

What the fuck is this. Eddie “the freak” Munson is in love with him? What's more upsetting is Steve’s gut reaction; he doesn't deserve it. This level of devotion. He suddenly sees himself from an outside perspective. He's not a good person. There's an inherent reason why his parents are gone most of the time, his friends are mean and shallow, and he jumps from girl to girl. There’s something lacking in him that drives people away, unless he–what were Munson's words?– leads with charm and wrath .

How does Munson know he's lonely when Steve didn't even know? It's mortifying to put an actual word to the feeling. That his efforts to surround himself with people, the “right” people, have apparently meant fuck all. He must look so pathetic to Munson, a deadbeat loser, who sees through him like glass.

What’s the guy’s deal? Why did Munson even send this? What does he expect from Steve? He wrote the words himself. Hopeless. Pointless . There's no ask to meet up, not even a request for an answer. He just drops this bomb into Steve’s life and expects to make a quiet exit? Just wants Steve to know he's loved for the sake of it? That’s dramatic even for the freak. The guy spends too much time doped up if he thinks he's going to flay Steve open and get away with it.

Yours,

Eddie Munson

Steve traces over the word Yours, with a finger. He’s going to get answers. 

[ continue reading ]

[strikexlightning]

Ryan Howard x Male Reader

notes: this might not be show timeline accurate, I'm not even gonna lie :'), it's supposed to take place in season 6, I had the wiki open the whole time so hopefully it's at least passable, also sorry if the characters are ooc a little, I'm still in the process of rewatching the show.

cws: mention of ryan being into pain, fucking at work, they don't use lube

Your head falls into your hands, overwhelmed by whatever bullshit Jim was doing to Dwight today. Sometimes you found it funny, but on days like today, it made you question why you accepted the accounting position all those years ago. You at least wished you could work in the annex, or in that cozy little closet Jim put Ryan in.

You push back your chair, getting up and walking into the kitchen, deciding to get more coffee because you couldn't possibly think of going back into that area of the office without any sort of caffeine.

“Hey.” Someone behind you says. It makes you jump and almost spill scalding hot coffee all over your hand, and you turn, wondering how you didn't hear anyone walk in before you remember Ryan's “office” is directly behind you.

You give him a little nod in return, not in the mood for listening to his pretentious bullshit. The last time you came into the kitchen, the closet door was open and he made you look at the…interesting pictures he's been taking, trying to be artsy. He literally made you stand there for 30 minutes straight while the phone on your desk rang.

As he looks through the fridge, it's clear he's just pretending, using it to hide the fact that he keeps glancing over at you, trying to see if you acknowledge his presence. As you finish up making your coffee, he shuts the fridge, realizing it's not gonna work.

He passes behind you, leaning against the counter as you clean up the small amount of coffee you spilled. He's too close, his elbow almost touching yours.

“Got any plans after work?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I think everyone's planning on going out for drinks.” You answer, taking a sip from the mug. You weren't really interested in talking to him but you didn't want to be rude.

“Well I was asking about you specifically…silly.” He says, with a weird, awkward laugh. He added the “silly” at the end in a way that made it sound like he was debating on whether or not to say that, and you can tell he instantly regrets saying it as he awkwardly glances towards the film crew when you don't respond and then retreats back to his closet, shutting the door.

You squint at the door before slowly walking back to your desk, Dwight now back in his seat and Jim nowhere to be found. You work for a little bit before you start to get bored, switching tabs to a random game. When lunch comes, a few people leave together, leaving the break room empty because the few people still there were up to other things. You didn't really care, all you heard was ‘empty room all to yourself’.

You grab your food and get comfortable, being the only one in there. You read as you eat, some random fantasy book you had picked up somewhere. It was peaceful, without any shenanigans, no camera crew because they were off filming the interesting stuff.

And you jinxed it, because the second you start to enjoy your lunch, Ryan himself comes striding in, straight towards you. You didn't know exactly why you disliked him so much. He wasn't really that horrible to you, though he did kind of suck, and you didn't really care much about the others’ to hate him for any personal reasons. Part of you wondered if it was some kind of sexual frustration, because he was kind of hot and clearly didn't have anything against sleeping with coworkers. Maybe it was the sex dreams you had of him when he was VP, you just really wanted to put that man in his place, but he kind of did it to himself when he got arrested so after that the dreams kind of just stopped.

The fact that you found him sexually attractive freaked you out, not because he was a guy, but because it was Ryan of all people. The last thing he needed was another ego boost.

He stands in front of the table you're sitting at, staring at you until you look up at him. He sits next to you, getting comfortable and once again, way too close. He's practically on top of you, his hand squeezing your arm tightly, probably so you can't get up and leave.

“Listen, man. I found this new…business venture, let's say. I figured you'd be interested.” His voice is a low whisper, like he's telling you some mystical secret or something, and he stares at you expectantly.

You have literally no idea what the fuck he's talking about.

You stare back at him, a confused look taking over your face. “...you’re not doing coke again, are you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I just think you and I should…discuss…business strategies. After work. Tonight.”

You're pretty sure he's just trying to fuck you and can't come up with a better reason to get you alone other than straight out asking. You're not completely opposed, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess.” You glance over and see someone from the camera crew recording you through the window from outside of the door. There goes your undisturbed lunch break.

He grins, letting go of your arm and patting your back, his hand lingering for a little bit. “Sweet.”

You nod in response, not knowing what to say. Now that you're aware of what he's doing, it just makes it weirder that he's doing that rather than coming right out and saying it. You saw how he was with women usually, so you figured he just didn't know how to flirt with men.

He stands back up and stops in his place when he sees the crew filming the both of you, and then he continues to leave. You can see him saying something to them, but you can't hear it. You sigh when you check the clock, realizing your lunch is over and you barely got through the first ten pages of the book. You retreat back to your desk, finishing out the rest of the day playing computer games and avoiding doing actual work.

When it's time to leave, you grab your jacket, relieved that the day was over. You were actually intrigued to see where Ryan was going with his horrible attempt at asking you to come over. You knew it was some kind of sexual advance just by how see through he is to you, but you didn't exactly know how it would play out and it was a little exciting.

“Are you coming to the bar with us?” Meridith asks you as she comes up next to you. You shake your head.

“No, I'm…going straight home. Gonna get some rest. You have fun though.” You respond in a suspicious manner. Luckily she doesn't care and says goodbye to you before leaving with everyone else.

You see Ryan out of the corner of your eye, and you turn your head, not expecting him to be staring directly at you as Michael is trying to talk to him. Michael sees that Ryan is looking in your direction and he waves you over. You give him a small smile as you walk over.

“I was just telling Ryan about that new Mexican restaurant that just opened, we should check it out one of these days. You know, just us three guys. Hangin’ out.” Michael tells you. He seems really excited at the idea of that so you nod along, not wanting to decline.

But Ryan isn't even paying attention, eyes still locked on you. He's basically just eyefucking you, running down your body and back up to your face. He doesn't look away when you stare back at him. The two of you stay locked in a sexually charged staring contest, and neither of you notice when Michael realizes you aren't paying attention to him and leaves.

You make the first move, lightly pushing him against Jim's desk, to which he leans back immediately. That one action seems to awaken both of your urges, urges that were held back for the sake of being professional. He pushes a few things out of the way to fully get onto the desk, pulling you closer by your tie as your hands fall to his waist.

He presses his lips to yours in a heated kiss, letting you get in between his legs as he holds a hand in your hair and the other gripping your arm tightly. You unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie, hands grabbing at his waist and torso underneath his shirt. He wraps his legs around your waist, pulling you even closer as you make out while he bucks his hips up against you, moaning into your mouth. He pulls away, hands unbuttoning your shirt and then sliding down to your belt.

“I've always wanted to do it here.” He says, his face slightly flushed as he catches his breath.

“Why?” You ask. It didn't surprise you that he wanted to though.

Ryan shrugs as he gets your belt off. You do the same for him and he ruts his hips against you again, groaning softly.

“It's one thing you're not supposed to do, obviously I'd want to do it.”

You make a short humming sound to acknowledge what he said as you grab his hips again, grinding your clothed erection against his, straining against his pants. He moans, looking up at you with the most desperate look you've ever seen from him.

You lean forward, lips brushing against the man's neck. He lets out a soft sigh, moving his head to give you access to his neck. You kiss down to his shoulder before biting down, pulling a moan from him. One of your hands comes up to the back of his head, tangling itself in his hair as you kiss and suck at his neck and shoulder, trying not to make marks in spots that could be easily seen.

“Fuck..you can do them wherever, I don't care if people see.” He says, his voice breathy.

You raise a curious eyebrow and then move upwards, your hand sliding up to the side of his head and pulling it to the side more, which he softly moans at. You leave a mark in a very visible spot before you can tell Ryan is getting impatient.

Your fingers loop around the waist of his pants and you pull them and his underwear down, his painfully hard cock springing out. You do the same for yourself, your dick against his thigh. He stares down at it, biting down on his bottom lip. You stop what you're doing and he looks up at you.

“We don't have lube. Unless you have some.” You say. He looks off towards where the closet is, thinking for a minute.

“There's some in my desk.” He responds, but he grabs your arm to stop you from going to get it. “Just leave it, it's fine.”

You raise an eyebrow again. “Are you sure? It'll hurt.”

He looks away from you, grip on you loosening and moving to rub at his eye. “I don't, uh. I don't mind.”

You instantly understand and you even laugh slightly. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, rock hard and dripping. It throbs when you slowly start to move your hand, pumping it up and down a few times. Ryan bucks his hips into your hand, letting out breathy, desperate moans.

You lift your other hand, spitting into it and wrapping it around your cock. Moving to hold his thigh, you guide yourself into him, making him suck in a sharp breath. He presses a hand to his forehead, and once you're fully in, he releases a high pitched moan. You're about to comment on it but decided against it, slowly starting to thrust in and out.

Ryan's eyes are shut tight, his mouth open as breathy high pitched moans escape him every time you push back in. You start to speed up, your hold on his hips getting tighter as you groan. One of his arms reaches out behind him, looking for something to grab onto and knocking over a cup of pencils and pens in the process. He grabs onto the edge of the desk, the whole thing rocking with you, things falling over and being knocked onto the floor.

You dig your nails into the man's skin, and his head falls back as he cums, landing on his chest and stomach. His cock twitches from the sensitivity when you only speed up more, pounding into him. He moans loudly, not caring if there's anyone still in the vicinity.

His legs squeeze tighter around you as he loudly begs you not to pull out with a lot of expletives. You groan out a “fuck” and bury yourself in him, releasing your load and riding out your high before slowing to a stop.

You both are silent while trying to catch your breath. Eventually, you pull out slowly, and back up, letting Ryan hop off the desk. He stumbles a little bit, his legs weak underneath him. He pulls his pants back up.

“I'm gonna go clean up, I'll be back.” He says, going off to the bathroom. You readjust your clothes, buttoning your shirt back up, and tying your tie back on the right way.

You try your best to fix Jim's desk, picking up all the stuff you knocked over and hoping he doesn't notice something is off. While you wait for Ryan, you think about the fact that you had sex with a coworker. In the place you work at. On top of your other coworkers desk.

You kind of understand why Ryan wanted to now, it was fun.

He comes back out, tie still loose and the top few buttons of his shirt undone, but his hair is fixed and he's less flushed. The two of you walk outside, walking past a few cleaners you did not know were in the building yet. Some of the camera crew are standing outside when you walk out the door and you almost jump. You and Ryan are silent before awkwardly going your separate ways to separate cars, the cameraman zooming into Ryan's marked up neck.

They had a lot of interesting questions to ask on Monday.

[thievinghippo]

Baldur's Gate 3 rant below the cut! (I very much enjoy the game until the middle of act 3, so that's what this rant is about)

I play on explorer mode. So easy mode. I try to keep my gear upgraded. But I always hit a wall with the game, right around the time when you deal with Bhaal

The fights suddenly become overwhelmingly hard for me. ON EXPLORER MODE

My mom and I were just playing her game and we're on the House of Grief for Shadowheart. I completely wiped twice before I had to look at my mom and say, 'I will do this fight on my own and not waste anymore of your time. we'll pick back up once I'm through the fight'

And now she feels awful, because she could tell how frustrated I was with the fight and that I just couldn't get it done. And I'm left here sitting wondering how I must be the stupidest video game player not to be able to get through this fight

(But seriously. How are you supposed to survive when everyone is bone chilled and blind?)

I love the story and the characters, but the shear amount of frustration I have to go through to get to those wonderful moments is worth less and less these days

I think that's one of the reasons I don't talk about BG3 anymore. Because I have a policy of 'talk about what you love, and not what you hate.' Not that I hate the game, but when it's leaving me in tears because I'm so frustrated... Yeah. That's why this rant is behind a cut

I'll let it sit a few days and try again!

[perfectlovevn]

https://janitorai.com/characters/1732df39-70f2-4b40-b458-4145cbab3667_character-milo-change-cheater

I was wondering, how accurate is this AI chat bot of Milo (responses and personality at least), and would you have any tips on how to make an Erie chat bot?

I'm just going to pile in a bunch of asks relating to this since they're all on the same topic.

I guess the chatbot is fine? It's hard to imagine a situation where Manipulation Milo would ever put his guard down with Ryan to cheat though since he hates him. I think there's a bit too much swearing though for my taste- I don't tend to write characters who swear. I didn't really test it out too throughly. In terms of an Eris chat bot, you'd have to read over the game again, but think a one minded person who acts confidentially and is aware of what they're doing but doesn't care is a good start.

Probably not happily. Violence and Manipulation wouldn't feel great about it though they might read through the MC's history on it to better see how to change themselves but ultimately destroy or delete the accounts to never let it happen again. PreMilo would probably try to get the MC's attention more and also try to figure out how to change themselves, but not delete the account since he'd be too afraid of making them mad.

In terms of AI characters, honestly, I feel like I don't really have control of them since people will do what they want regardless of what I say. I think on the one hand it's cool (?) that Perfect Love is well known enough to warrent people making a chatbot, but on the other hand chatbots tend to feed scraping AIs information to do who knows what, which is an entire other can of worms. I don't really know what to think.

[thehealerhairpin]

as the horse step foot into the swamp -- just by looking it felt disgusting and murky -- it was sucking in her hooves and almost made it all invisible . her hooves disappear the moment she stepped foot upon it , she hates swamp , they're scary and mean and pull people down , and you never know how deep those swamps are until you accidentally stoop into one and before you know it you're in a spot where you can't pull your legs out . it's scary , it's horrifying . yet , at times , they can be beautiful . after all , nature is beauty , right ?

nature is dangerous , and so are their beauty . most of their beauty mustn't be touch nor grabbed upon . it was just usual knowledge . something seems pretty and luring to touch them but it is always best to stay cautious and to not touch such thing -- although , Orihime aren't very different from those people . she lost her focus at times and touch them , out of curiosity or out of a simple want . how funny .

maybe , she just thinks that , dying by the beauty of nature can also be one beautiful death .

but the one that have died by this swamp may not very much agree with her , and she knew it well . and of course she respects them . stepping on here -- even if she isn't the one that are doing the walking . it felt like she's disrespecting the corpses and skeletons beneath the surface . and that bought up a question , have the mare ever stepped upon a skeleton ? a corpse of those that have fallen here due to accident or maybe out of dumb intentions ? she would ask , but she needs to stay quiet . for the both of their safety .

as Adelheid whispered to her and her eyes following the horse's gaze to look at the visibly loud group of frogs . they were visible within this woods and were very loud , she was wondering where it was coming from and she do not taken that wonder no more . but as she listen to the tale of what the mare have heard -- maybe have seen , she wouldn't know how long Adelheid have stayed here , was she a newcomer ? she can't tell just by looking at the horse .

but the tale of the frogs felt almost too true , their croaks were now full of sorrow and sadness as it continues to almost cry out of misery and despair for the life of a human that have been lost by the witch that they have simply crossed path with -- her eyes faltering back to look at the murky water swamp .

" How sad .. I'm sure they didn't deserved that at all .. "

but maybe she aren't so sure , but she's sure they don't deserve to suffer for eternity like this -- no one deserves it .

but now with such tale -- bringing up another question . was the mare cursed by the witch too ? Adelheid can talk like normal human , have normal humane emotions and very much are almost like a human wearing a horse costume . maybe that's why she knew about the tale ? maybe she'll ask after they pass such dangerous place like this swamp first ..

but the more they go on , the more unsure she was getting . it felt like they were only getting deeper and not getting any closer to what she would call an exit out of this place -- everything fallen almost to darkness and the only thing they both could hear were the sounds of bubbling up from beneath the swamp . something that she cannot see , something that she isn't sure if it was the crocodile or something much more worse . but she's not going to have doubt in the mare -- she's helping her out of here after all ! so all she have to do now is .. place her trust in Adelheid and believe it through that they will make it out of here -- well , Orihime will make it out of here . she doesn't know if the horse want out of here or not like she wants to .

Her hooves sinking into the soft, spongy earth and water, it was a strange feeling underfoot, but she knew it was solid enough to hold their weight, she had been this way before and had made it back out, and she was going to do so again, she had to for them both.

She could feel the weight of the woman on her back, but she was not a heavy burden, not one bit at all, she was light and it was almost as if she was not there, except for the gentle grip she had on her mane, and the occasional shiver that went through her body as something slithered through the water.

The swamp was alive around them, the frogs croaking in a symphony that seemed to never end, the buzz of mosquitoes and other insects filled the air, and she swished her tail to keep them at bay. The trees grew tall, their branches tangled together, creating a thick canopy that allowed only the faintest of light to filter through, casting eerie shadows across the water’s surface.

The water itself was murky, green and filled with mysteries, she knew there were things lurking just beneath that could drag them down into the depths, but she was careful, always watching, always listening, ready to react if need be.

“You see those frogs over there?” She whispered to the lady, nodding her head slightly towards the direction of a particularly loud group. The woman’s eyes followed her gaze, a look of curiosity mixed with fear etched on her features.

“Those frogs, they say, were once people. Cursed by the witch that used to live here. They say she had the power to transform anyone who dared to cross her into whatever creature she saw fit. Most of the time it was these frogs. They croak their sorrowful tunes, a never-ending reminder of the lives lost to her cruel whims. It’s important to pay respect to them, lest we suffer the same fate.”

The lady's grip tightened slightly, and she could feel her heart racing against her back, but she didn't falter in her stride. The water grew deeper, rising to her knees, and she could feel the mud sucking at her legs with each step. The path was getting harder to see, but she knew it was still there, she could feel it under her hooves. The swamp was notorious for playing tricks on travelers, making them doubt their own senses, leading them into danger.

In the distance, the water began to bubble, a disturbing sight that sent a chill down her spine. Crocodiles, she knew, had an uncanny ability to sense movement and the scent of prey. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for any sign of the creatures' snouts or beady eyes. The frogs fell silent, their croaks replaced by a tense, anticipatory hush that hung in the air like a thick fog. Even the mosquitoes had retreated, sensing the danger that was approaching.

Her friend on her back remained still, save for the rapid beat of her heart that pounded against her back. The woman's trust in her was unshakeable, despite the fear that was surely rising within her. They had to keep moving, but now with a newfound sense of urgency. The path grew narrower, the water murkier, and the smell of decay more potent. It was a clear sign that they were getting closer to the deepest, darkest part of the swamp, where the crocodiles made their lairs.

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I've had this thought swirling in the back of my head for a while, but it's finally congealed enough that I think I can make a coherent pitch, which is: I think RWBY's problems with the more vitriolic part of its fanbase partially stems from the fact that RWBY is a deconstruction that doesn't advertise it's a deconstruction.

RWBY's status as a deconstruction is pretty textbook. It takes apart standard fantasy, shounen, and anime tropes in order to analyze them and their deeper meaning and then reassembles them in new and interesting ways for the plot/characters/series. Thing is, it never says that outright in promotional material, which can lead to later outrage in fans.

See, unless their way of discovering new shows is to close their eyes and stab their finger at random, most people tend to choose series to watch/read based on expectations. Maybe a friend said they'll like it because it has [insert thing], maybe they read the summary and were intrigued, maybe they thought the poster/cover art was cool, whatever. These small pieces of information are generally enough for people to make a snap-judgment of the style and genre of the series, which they can then gauge against their personal tastes and decide whether or not they want to try.

Most of the time, this works just fine. Well-written deconstructions also generally give the viewers some warning/buildup before they take a hard swerve. See Madoka Magica: the magical girl paradigm is shaded by the possibility of death as soon as we're introduced to it, then there's an onscreen death with blood, and then a few episodes later we eventually realize the Faustian bargain of it all. Even innocent viewers who stumbled into watching it, unaware of the show's reputation, would go "Oh, wait, this is not going in the direction magical girl shows usually go" by a third of the way through.

The thing is, with RWBY, this does not happen unless you're paying a lot of attention and/or looking for it. And neither the cover art nor the summary nor, I believe, the fanbase gives a lot of warning about the swerves ahead.

In fact, RWBY initially bills itself as a pretty standard shounen anime. The main protagonist is hinted to have Special Powers and gets into the Magic Monster-Hunting School in the first episode, and the first two-and-a-half seasons are taken up by her and her friends' superhero-esque slice-of-life shenanigans as they thwart robberies and terrorist attacks and gear up for a tournament arc against the looming background of a larger conspiracy.

Then in the last half of the third season the villains' entire Rube Goldberg machine of a scheme snaps into completion and the plot twists so hard the entire genre takes a hard right. If you're used to character analysis and common anime tropes, this is not completely a surprise -up until this point, RWBY's character arcs and plot have been subtly traveling in non-traditional directions that hint of greater flexibility in genre treatment ahead- but if you're not... well.

Thing is, people watching RWBY up until this point have signed up for pretty standard shounen and they've been getting it, but the third season's ending smashes that all to bits. From then on out in RWBY, it's like they ordered fries and suddenly got a hamburger. It might be delicious; but it's not what they asked for, what they wanted, or what they paid for, and they are, justifiably, displeased.

So when the reasonable people either adjusted their expectations or sighed, shook their heads, and clicked back out (perhaps with a grumble and a scowl), the unreasonable people dug their heels in and began insisting that everybody was Getting The Show/Character Wrong and that CRWBY is ruining it, because the fact that RWBY's method of deconstruction is to put standard tropes in a blender and then arrange what's left in deceptive patterns means that said unreasonable viewers can scan the bare surface and argue that all the stereotypical stuff is clearly still under there, somewhere.

So they're continually trying to drag RWBY back to the tracks of a typical shounen anime series (it's closest relative), which creates a dissonance between the show they're watching and the show they think they're watching. They're trying to turn the hamburger back into fries, basically, except that doesn't work and just frustrates everyone involved, because you're trying to make RWBY into something that it's not. Hence, this attitude probably starting/fueling some of the more contentious statements in the fandom, i.e.:

"Ironwood was right the whole time" (in most action movies and shounen anime, allied military leaders are trustworthy beyond reproach)

"Adam's character was wasted" (we all know how much shounen loves their powerful warrior antiheroes)

"Ruby and the others are in the wrong about [insert thing]/or for doing [insert thing], and this is bad writing!" (shounen protagonists don't usually make more than One Very Big Mistake over the course of their entire careers, which is usually fixed/overcome/redeemed via an appropriately rigorous training arc)

And to be clear, there's nothing wrong with shounen tropes or shounen anime. They're wonderful storytelling devices in their own way and their own time: but if you want standard by-the-book shounen without any new and interesting concoctions, then RWBY is definitely not the show for you. And most people don't find that out until it's too late.

[fountainpenguin]

Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:

Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them

Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later

Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night

Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things

Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol

Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner

Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway

Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong

Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"

Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them

Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing

Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him

Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)

Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her

Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back

Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out

Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance

Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat

Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)

Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe

Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword

Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn

Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear

Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her

Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1

Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj

Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1

Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack

Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that

Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box

Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base

Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead

Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)

Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)

Things that did not happen:

Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner

Martyn and Cleo hating each other

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[buttercupshands]

Congratulations on nothing. I'm back to drawing LoV again after a bit of a break

those are mostly just a redraw practice for fun Toga is a try in "more canon way of drawing" with color practice too

I'm sorry that it's in russian because I have to have some will to localize jokes that came into my head while drawing it

it's like... a robot au??? or something, mostly just a joke "what if AFo just built Tenko and changed what he wanted"

and this is a joke about our 'favorite' 419 plot twist so it's basically just a bunch of joked about AFO failing to get any way to get control instead Tenko's head is not empty. It downloaded games, friends and stuff about being a hero but NOT as a literal hero, more on "villains need help I'm a hero then" way

and yes that text behind is "hands" written all over the place bc I wanted to add hands in handwritten form