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thisisourlovestory · 25 days

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Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.9k

Notes- okay so this has taken a lot longer than I thought it would but it’s here now finally. And I have changed my url so I’m sorry if you thought this was some random person tagging you

Chapter 6

I woke up the next morning sprawled across my bed and tangled in the sheets. I stumbled up and made my way into the dining area, only bothering to wrap a dressing gown around myself so as to not expose my arms. Unfortunately Lysander greeted me much too cheerfully the second I stepped foot in the room, with a wide grin and loud words.

“Good morning!” He trilled. “Sit, sit and eat. You have an important day ahead of you.” I slumped down into a seat and grabbed an apple, biting into the crisp red skin and sinking my teeth deep into its flesh.

“So what did you get up to with the lovely Megara last night?” He inquired as an avox served him a plate of toast piled with eggs and cheese and ham. I judged his choice in food for a moment and then almost snorted as his words registered in my mind. He certainly wasn't being subtle at all I thought as Finnick and Mags entered and seated themselves. I took another bite out of my apple and grinned.

I stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of silk pyjama shorts and a loose top. Megara was sprawled across my bed, shovelling ice cream into her mouth as fast as physically possible. She noticed me and smacked the bed.

“Sit.” I sat. “Now spill. You and Finnick flipping Odair.” I sighed.

“Pass me a cupcake. No, not that one. No, no, yes. Thanks.” I peeled the case off and bit into it, the rich chocolate and caramel spreading across my tongue. “I found out when I first got it.” I showed her my wrist and she inspected it closely. “We were, well we were friends I suppose. After I won that is. I saw his once, it was an accident. I don’t think anyone else really knows he even had one.” I took another bite of my cupcake. “We kinda stuck together for a couple of years. He helped me through the aftermath and the nightmares and everything.” She looked at me curiously.

“So what happened?”

“Annie Cresta happened. When she won everything changed. You know how the boy she went in with that year was decapitated and she lost it?”

“Everyone knows, though the Capitol tries to brush over it.” I laughed quietly.

“Well when she came back she was absolutely broken. She couldn’t function by herself. So Finnick helped her. At first I knew it was necessary, she probably would have offed herself otherwise, but the days passed to weeks and weeks to months. He had just,” I breathed, “He had just left me and gone to her.”

Megara's mouth opened in a shocked expression.

“You would’ve been fifteen?”

“Almost sixteen.”

“And he just, what, abandoned you?” I shrugged.

“Love is weird. It comes and goes at the most unexpected of times and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” She placed a hand on her forehead.

“Okay, sorry for interrupting. Please continue.”

“The nightmares came back, I spiralled, I spent I think two months here. Doing shows, staying as far away from them as I could. I mainly talked to Effie and Haymitch.” I smiled fondly. “They were really something. Always bickering and picking at each other like an old married couple. They made me laugh a lot, the only thing I laughed at really. Then it all changed again. But that’s not relevant.” I ignored her look and powered ahead. “I stopped talking to anyone, unless I had to, I wouldn’t say a word. I sang at shows but nothing more. And that was my life I guess. Not happy, not sad. It just was.”

Megara unexpectedly leapt across the bed and engulfed me in a hug.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that.” She pulled away. “I can't imagine if I met my soulmate and then had to pretend like they meant nothing to me.” I smiled back at her sadly.

“Like I said, love is weird. And why would he want me when he has her.” With that I flopped down in bed and curled up in a ball. “Goodnight.”

“We didn't do anything interesting. I ate a bit then fell asleep. I was tired.” I smiled tightly at Lysander, a glint of challenge in my eyes before my gaze slipped to my plate and I took a second bite out of my apple. It tasted like ash in my mouth. “What's on the agenda today?” With that his eyes lit up and he beamed.

“Training.”

As it turned out, training was in fact the only thing on the agenda. I walked into the room and was greeted by the sight of the majority of the other tributes already showing off. My eyes flicked around the room for a second, Finnick was already bothering Katniss, the girl looked extremely unimpressed at him showing her how to tie a knot in the rope and didn't even try to hide her disgusted expression as he pretended to hang himself. I made my own way over to the survival skills section, I immediately picked up two pieces of wood and began to rub them together to little effect. Just as I was about to give up a shadow appeared above me.

“You have to rub quicker, and lower down.” Katniss took the sticks from me and demonstrated. “See.” I nodded slowly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” With that she turned and made her way to one of the compartmentalised training rooms, grabbing a bow and a sheaf of arrows along the way. I watched from a distance as she put an arrow through each glowing hologram that appeared. I started as I saw one holding an axe and it immediately disintegrated, a small bolt of fear shooting through me. Were they supposed to represent us? My question was answered as another showed up holding a trident and resulted in the same fate. The closer I watched, I could see more similarities between the holograms and all the people stood watching. Johanna and Finnick were obvious, two appearing next to each other and reacting in sync, Cashmere and Gloss, one with long, sharp nails that none of the others had, Enobaria. A really burly one, Brutus and a couple of spindly ones, the morphlings.

Bile rose in my throat as Katniss annihilated them all. Then just as everyone thought the simulation had ended, a final hologram appeared. Smaller and thinner than all the others and it threw a golden blaze at her which she ducked and suddenly an arrow was lodged in it and it dissolved like all the others. It was clear that it was supposed to be. All the movements of the other holograms had been techniques the corresponding victors used in their games, the weapons they were most famed for using. And the Capitol had simply taken those moves and projected them into the simulation. But for me, the only moves I had back then were throwing that one knife and then my shoes. So that was what they had to use. I stayed frozen in my spot as the others stared at Katniss, contemplating looks in their eyes. I could see the cogs turning in their brains, they wanted her as their ally, who wouldn't to be honest. She was the favourite to win at the moment- perhaps also Finnick- and she would get sponsors upon sponsors. I watched her gaze pass over all of them to settle on me; I stared back at her blankly for a moment before she looked over to Peeta who stood watching her from the camouflage station, his arm covered in detailed paintings of rocks and tree bark. He smiled slightly and turned back to his work.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a grinning Finnick.

“Quite the spectacle she's put on wouldn't you say?” He asked and I hummed in response. “She'd be a good ally.” I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” He scoffed. “With an aim like that she could take out all of us in a matter of seconds.” My lip quirked upwards at his words. He didn't know just how true they were.

“I suppose, but if she was your ally, one wrong move and you'd be six feet under. But by all means, ally with the girl on fire; when she decides to kill you- don't say I didn't warn you.” I spun on my heel and strode away from him, my shoulder tingled where he had touched me and I felt a tug in my chest at the growing distance. It was as if the more time we spent around each other the more the- well I suppose the word that the Capitol used to describe it was a bond- the more the bond seemed to recognise us as soulmates and tried to drag us together. It was the only reasonable explanation for why he was talking to me.

I walked with my head down, stepping to the side to avoid bumping into other people. I made my way to a station where the two from district 3 had settled themselves at after struggling to light a fire and were fiddling around with wires and bolts. I sat myself down and picked up a few thin pieces of bronze metal. I twisted them together, intricately weaving them in a complicated pattern so they formed a pin of sorts. I twisted my hair up and stuck it through, the metal scraping along my scalp as I shook my head to make sure it was secure.

“The gamemakers won't be too impressed with that.” Beetee spoke quietly from beside me and I made a face.

“I don't really care. They're the ones hiding behind a forcefield.” His gaze sharpened.

“How do you know that?” I shrugged in response.

“The shimmer in the corners. Makes it look a bit like glass but they don't want us to know they're afraid of us and glass is too noticeable. Next best thing is a forcefield, I mean it uses a lot of the energy in this place. Zaps it like,” I snapped my fingers, “that, but most people won't know how to recognise it at all so they can keep up their pretences without worrying about one of us trying to murder them where they stand.”

Beetee stared at you for a second before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“A scholar I see.”

“Just curious.”

“Not even some adults back home would be able to tell me that.” Beetee murmured. “You've done your research.” I looked up to the gamemakers.

“Well,” I spoke softly, scratching at my wrist absently,”you never know what they'll throw at you and it's always good to be prepared.” He hummed in assent as Wiress tugged on a loose strand of my hair, babbling nonsense under her breath. I gently extracted myself from her fingers and wished them a pleasant day, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, before I left them to fiddle with their little toys.

I found myself wandering through the huge building, mindlessly gazing around. My eyes flitting over the white surfaces, shining brightly in the even whiter light from the ceilings. All of a sudden I heard voices. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, was that Finnick and Haymitch? Talking to Plutarch Heavensbee? I listened intently, pressing myself against the wall next to the tiny crack in the door to hear better. My eyes gradually widened with each sentence that left their mouths, I couldn't believe it myself, I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been hearing it directly from the source. They stopped talking and I ran. I sprinted down the corridors and to the lifts, frantically pressing the buttons as I entered and running out just as quickly. I didn't slow down until I slammed the door to my room shut and launched myself onto my bed, clutching a pillow so hard my knuckles started to turn white. They were planning to get Katniss out of the games and start a revolution. A revolution. My mind repeated those words for minutes, my mouth moving to spell it out in disbelief. Slowly the disbelief I felt faded into determination. They clearly hadn’t been about to tell me anything about it, I wouldn’t be included in their alliance. But I could sure as hell help.

Throughout the next couple of days, I woke up as early as possible to train without anyone watching me. I would take my ballet shoes down with me and wear them as I threw knives at the holograms, rise onto my toes and dance around them in circles until my feet were bleeding and bruised. The pain only made me work harder, if I could fight with my feet broken beneath me then I could run forever and wouldn’t feel a thing. On the last day before the games would begin I did the same as I had been. But when I had destroyed the holograms a hundred times over I didn’t stop, I dropped the daggers in my hands and closed my eyes as I spun and leapt. For the first time in years no one was watching me and I could just dance. Even on the train there had been cameras pointed at me but in the interest of not wanting anyone to get mad and try to kill them the gamemakers had left the training room cameraless. So I danced as if I was a child again and my mother was watching me from the door of the house cheering me on. And then I fell. My ankle gave out beneath me and I crashed to the floor. I landed on my side, my arms crossed to hold my head off the floor. I pushed myself up and undid my shoes; pulled them off my feet and stood up. When I fell I had accidentally pressed a button and holograms had appeared again. I reached down to grab the daggers again as they advanced towards me.

“You wanna play?” One of them threw the knife they were holding at me. It skimmed my cheek; I lifted a hand up to touch it. My fingers came away red and I laughed quietly. “Fine, I’ll play.” With that something inside me cracked and I leapt forward. I was like a hurricane as they all rushed at me and I weaved through the gaps leaving bloody footprints wherever I stepped. I rained down blow after blow on them, if holograms could bleed I would have been covered. But they couldn’t bleed and they couldn’t die, they just disintegrated into orange sparks whenever my blade hit home in their rib cages only for more to take their place. I dodged and threw and stabbed until I thought the simulation ended and I stood in the centre of the room. The air moved and in the blink of an eye I spun and struck, the last thing I saw of the hologram was the trident in it's hand. Then I heard the clapping.

I turned around quickly to see Johanna watching me. I quickly stepped outside.

“What do you want?” She grinned.

“Who knew you could fight princess. I’d actually be quite impressed if I didn’t think you’d payed for some poor Capitol bastard to teach you.” A hysterical giggle forced itself out of my throat and for a second an unreadable expression passed over her face like a cloud. I picked up my shoes by the ribbons and let them dangle by my legs as her eyes went to my feet. “Aww did standing up by herself for a moment make the princesses feet hurt?” I swallowed.

“You don’t know me Johanna Mason.” I spat. “You don’t know anything about me so do not make assumptions about things that you do not understand.” She watched me walk away, yelling after me.

“See you later princess.” I ignored her, focusing on not leaving a trail of blood back to the room.

A few hours later, after I had bandaged up my feet, I headed back down for the evaluations. The others were already there and I sat down at the end of a bench. Feeling eyes on me I looked up and locked eyes with Katniss, she stood up and made her way over to me. She sat down silently and I looked at the pin she had on her top.

“A mockingjay.” She looked up at me surprised.

“Yeah. How did you know?” I laughed.

“Some members of the Capitol have them as pets. Ones they managed to catch after the jabberjays bred with mockingbirds. They domesticated them and have them sing all day every day.” My voice turned sharp. “They don’t like being reminded of their failures so they turn them into spectacles.” My head turned as the robotic voice spoke ‘Y/N L/N report for evaluation.’ I stood up slowly and walked past Finnick who was exiting and into the training room. I was greeted by the sight of the gamemakers laughing and talking with each other, completely ignoring my presence as I made my way over to the weapons stand. One of them spared me a glance before dismissing me. They knew who I was and they didn’t think I was a threat. I took a step forward, narrowing my eyes and realised something. The force field was strong if it was concentrated, but it was only being held together by four balls that it was projected out of, one in each corner creating a screen. So it was strong at the outside but where it all met in the centre would be weaker. I grinned at my revelation and practically skipped back to the table with the knives on. I picked one up and balanced it on my finger, I quickly looked around and grabbed a long piece of rope, tying it around the handle. I twisted the end of the rope around one hand and pirouetted, as my head whipped to the front I let the knife fly through the air, right through the centre of the forcefield. It embedded itself in a piece of watermelon and then the wall. I gripped the rope harder and yanked towards me, I caught the knife and raised the dripping red fruit up to my mouth to take a bite as I curtseyed deeply, dipping my head and letting my foot slide as far behind as possible. I smiled sweetly at their horrified expressions. You can almost see the thoughts running through their heads I mused as I walked calmly out of the room, head held high.

I was waylaid by Lysander who dragged me back to the room and made Finnick and I sit until the scoring was announced hours later, I was almost falling asleep in my chair. Yawning widely and eyes drooping until the music sounded and I bolted up. The second Gloss’ photo appeared on screen with a score of 10 flashing under him my heart sank. My little outburst would probably not have gained me anything other than a low score. The rest of the careers had predicatably high scores, Brutus an 11 and Finnick the same. Lysander screeched happily at his score, patting him on the back furiously and I murmured my congratulations. Then it was my turn. My face appeared on the screen and a bright bold number 12 flashed underneath it. I spat out my water in shock and blinked rapidly as Lysander gaped at the screen. Mags patted me gently on the shoulder, giving me a small smile; Finnick leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“Congratulations angel.” The nickname shook me out of my trance.

“Angel?” He shrugged and gave me an easy smile.

“Yeah, you looked like an angel on the chariots and you certainly act like an angel, especially with that little girl.” His voice turned serious. “But something tells me you aren’t such an angel as everyone thinks you are.” My lip twitched and I forced it to stay in a straight line.

“Maybe you’re right.” I turned around, my back to him, his eyes searing into my skin as I whispered. “But some things cannot be determined with a passing glance.”

The next day was the day of the interviews. I was slumped in a chair, clad in a silk robe, as my prep team scoured my body. They perfected every imperfection they could find until my skin was like a blank canvas. All the while they chattered, asking me not so subtly about my evaluation score and even less subtly if I had a soulmate- thankfully they didn’t question my insistency that I covered my wrist while they ‘cleaned me up’. I ignored them for the most part until Priscilla began to waffle on about Finnick. I clenched my fists and tried to block her out, waiting for her to finish. But she wouldn't stop, she went on and on about him, his… relationships with Capitol women and then what a shame it was that he might die. My fingernails dug crescent moons into my palms until I felt pinpricks of pain and saw tiny specks of blood beading on my skin. I settled for fiddling with the robe until they left. The girls walked through the door giggling with each other as Quintus turned around to me.

“I understand how you feel.”

“What?” I asked confused.

“You have a soulmate yes?” I nodded slowly. “But he either doesn’t want you or doesn’t know about you.” I nodded again.

“The second.”

“I had a soulmate once.”

“You did?” I mumbled.

“It was about 15 years ago. I had just started working here for the games and she was a tribute.” He laughed slightly and ran his hand through his hair. “She hated me, I tried to get her to run away with me before the games could start but she wouldn’t let the kid from her district die even if it meant she lived. They only lasted 5 days in the arena.” He smiled sadly. “But those last couple of days she was alive and I got to see her were the best couple of days in my life.”

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

“Don’t waste time. Every second with the ones we love is precious.” Just as suddenly as he had begun the conversation he left the doorway, leaving me in silence.

Soon enough Megara came in, laden with bags upon bags containing god knows what. She dragged a chair over and sat down opposite me. She pulled out a teapot and two cups before setting them down on the table ignoring my incredulous look. She poured tea into the two cups added a splash of milk and sugar to one and gave me an inquisitive look. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I poured milk into the cup and spooned 3 teaspoons of sugar into the cup.

“So honey, how are you feeling about the interviews?”

“Honey? Aren’t you younger than me.”

“Nope,” she popped the p,” I’m 24.” I sighed.

“They can only go so badly right.” She grinned; took a sip of her tea, placed it down, stood up and walked over to a huge bag hung up on the door.

“I suppose we’ll see then.” She unzipped the bag and I gasped.

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#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #the hunger games #finnick odair x you #thg x reader #catching fire #angst

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lostinforestbound · 26 days

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Happy 100 followers! I can't believe there's 100 of you so interested in my silly little writings, I am so so grateful! As promised, here is a little fic of comforting Rolan! I wish we were able to hug him in game, but this will have to do!

Rolan/M!Tav

You're Not Alone, You Will See

Tav swears Rolan hasn't slept in their shared bed for weeks at this point, and he's getting very concerned for him. Why won't he sleep? He needs to find out or he'll collapse where he stands.

Word Count: 3.3k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Explicit, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Tav's POV, Mentions of Lorroakan

NSFW under cut, Minors DNI

Night has long been spread across the city of Baldur's Gate, where the world is now asleep. Silence carries along the perfect night; no wind rustles the trees or whistles along the windows, no banter of drunken patrons fighting in the streets, and the sky is clear, letting the stars bloom.

The world is asleep, all except for Tav and Rolan.

Bored out of his mind, Tav stares at the ceiling as the moonlight shines through the large windows of his and Rolan's shared bedroom. He can't sleep at all, because once again, Rolan is not in bed with him.

Rolan's side of the bed is very cold when he feels around it, the sheets and blanket are not ruffled by one hair. He didn't even sit on it today, which is already concerning in itself. He knows his lover has been busy, being the new master of Ramazith's tower, but what could he possibly be doing this late at night? What has his mind so consumed that he couldn't lay with his partner after a long day? He knows Rolan has been having difficulty sleeping as of late, but this is getting ridiculous.

So with a small huff, he sits up, bones popping quietly in his shoulders and back as he stretches. He’ll have to go find him in the depths of the tower, it seems.

Shuffling out of the bed, he finds his red robe to get into, not wanting to shiver in the cold air inside their home. The robe was a gift from Rolan, thrust into his hands by him after lecturing the hero about only walking around in his undergarments. The indecency, he cried! But Tav saw how flustered his face was during the berating, and he did his best not to laugh at Rolan's embarrassment.

A fonder memory of Rolan that makes him smile, even if the event was only a few weeks ago. He slides on the slippers Rolan gave him as well; they're high quality and incredibly soft. They came with the robe, Rolan saying the floors are dirty, and why in the hells is he walking around barefoot anyways?

Laughing lightly at the memory, he finds a short candle on the bedside table and lights it up; he doesn't want to walk anywhere too blindly. He exits the room, walking down the long hall as he thinks where Rolan could be. There is no reason to be too worried, but he is nonetheless. As much as they made this tower their home, including Cal and Lia who have their very own section in the tower, he has noticed Rolan being...closed off. Not on purpose, and not in front of him or his siblings, but there's something about the tower that makes his lover a bit uneasy, and he can guess the reason why. He sees the way his mood shifts when he thinks he's alone, staring in the general direction where Lorroakan used to reside.

It doesn’t take long to find him, in the middle of his study hunching over his desk. From what he can tell, he’s looking at a few papers along with a book; but he’s staring at it as if it’s a new language that needs years to decipher, a sense of absolute dread in his posture. There’s clear exhaustion on his features, dark circles under his eyes as he rubs at his temples as if that would get rid of his current headache.

This has been happening for weeks after Lorroakan’s death. Time and time again he’s reorganized tomes, cleaned the space, put in new furniture, and even got an entirely new bed for them both. It never seemed enough. He could never tell Tav why it wasn��t enough. He didn’t have the words to describe it.

But Tav does vividly remember waking in their bed, seeing Rolan's pillow torn into by his claws while the man slept. It quickly got replaced, but he refused to acknowledge and talk about it, so Tav left it alone.

Now here he is, slaving away to understand the same tome he was trying to decipher for three nights now, doing everything he can but actually sleep in his own bed.

As Tav slowly approaches, he wonders if he’s doing this to himself on purpose. Is there something haunting him? Why does he torture himself so?

He makes his steps louder to make sure Rolan is aware of his presence before putting his free hand on his shoulder. He feels his shoulders tense under the touch before relaxing, not protesting when a thumb lightly massages the base of his skull. “My love, is this book so important that you can’t join me in bed?” He asks, leaning in close by his left ear to examine the papers.

“It’s been three nights, and I can’t figure it out.” He murmurs, sounding more defeated than he’s ever heard. It makes Tav’s heart hurt, knowing that he’s struggling.

The papers strewn about confuse him as he takes in their contents; Rolan's notes make absolutely no sense. His writing is erratic and unfinished as if every thought was abandoned for a new one in rapid succession.

He puts the candle down on the desk and leans against his lover's back. “Maybe, just maybe, it’s because you’re tired?”

He huffs in annoyance, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

“Rolan, you haven’t been to bed in weeks. I’ve seen you sleep in odd places. The doorway, the desk, the floor…what’s going on with you?”

He sees the way Rolan bites his lip, golden eyes trailing the pages in front of him but not truly reading them. His lover opens his mouth as if to make an excuse, but nothing ever comes out. While he's distracted, Tav gently folds a blank piece of paper that he finds in the mess on the desk, tucking it on the page Rolan's currently on and shutting the tome.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, just come to bed.”

He starts to protest with a clenched jaw, almost insulted by it as if the book is more important. “But- This is-“

“Rolan, please? I miss holding you.” He whispers, kissing the back of his head.

He sighs heavily, exhaustion setting deep into his bones as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Fine.”

The scowl on his face softens as Tav pecks his cheek, encouraging him with a pull of his hand to stand up. He does so without a fuss, hand oddly tight around Tav's.

Tav sees Rolan wince at the echo of their footsteps, and part of the action disturbs him. He's never seen him shrink so much at a sound, and he wonders what is going on inside his head. For him, he picks up the pace a little, pretending he wants to go to bed badly.

He kisses the top of his hand before settling on top of their bed. Rolan looks as though he's about to make an excuse to not lie down, so he spreads his legs and speaks up, "Let me give you a massage."

"This time of- why?" Rolan questions incredulously.

"You're slouching. You might have some tension. Let me?"

After some reluctance, he settles between Tav's legs, and Tav begins to press his thumbs between his shoulder blades. The amount of knots he finds is almost amazing, and part of him wants to chastise Rolan for letting it get this bad, but now is not the time. For every knot, he carefully kneads the bundle until it's completely gone before moving to the next one. Sometimes Rolan's tail flicks in irritation, most likely at the temporary pain, before it falls limply when the knot fades.

He's unsure how much time passes since it's already deep into the night, but eventually, he makes it through all the knots he can. Rolan is relaxed back against his chest, and he sees the rise and fall of his own with his slow breathing. Without thinking, his hands slide to the front of his chest, feeling along the ridges that decorate it. Rolan's breath stutters under the caresses, the tip of his tail flicking back in forth as it slaps against the bedding. He smiles against the skin on the back of his neck, trailing his hands over the soft swell of his stomach and to his groin. He palms the growing erection, making Rolan inhale sharply, and he worries that he misread what Rolan wanted.

That was until Rolan grinds into his hand with a shuddering sigh, eyes half-lidded with a flush forming on his tired face. “Please,” He begs quietly, eyes weary.

How could he say no?

He looks so beautiful like this, even with the exhaustion on his features.

"Lay down," he whispers.

As Tav gets out of bed, Rolan complies by scooting down to lay against the pillows, getting comfortable. Confusion paints his features when Tav grabs an extra pillow and puts it under his hips, but the unspoken question dies on his tongue as Tav kisses him. Their lips easily glide together, and Tav takes his time removing his clothes during. Rolan just lets him do all the work. In all honesty, he looks too tired to do much. Based on the nervous look when he pulls away, it seems he's worried that it'll turn Tav off, but he gives him a reassuring smile as he shucks off his robe and undergarments.

Rolan obediently opens his mouth for Tav when he leans to kiss him again, letting his tongue slide in and tangle with his. He feels Rolan wrap his arms around his neck, keeping him as close as possible as Tav explores his mouth, running his tongue along the sharp teeth that adorn there. The first time they'd kissed like this, Tav cut the muscle on the teeth, and Rolan immediately pulled away when he tasted blood. He couldn't kiss him like that for a while and he idly wondered if Rolan would have not reacted the way he did if Tav was also a tiefling.

Enough of that, he's getting distracted.

Rolan spreads his legs as Tav grabs a vial of oil from the side of the bed, uncorking it with his teeth and pouring it onto two fingers. Rolan instinctively tenses when he feels a finger gently massaging his entrance, but never breaching. Circling it one, twice, three times. Tav always had to tease him a little bit, but he gently kisses his brow as he finally sinks into him by the first knuckle.

Pathetically, Rolan lets out a groan, quickly biting his lip afterward. They haven’t done this in weeks, but just from this, he can see he’s already half-hard. He probably didn’t even have time to get off recently, he was so focused on his work in the tower.

It only encourages Tav to make this even better.

His finger sinks in further to the second knuckle, searching for that little bundle of nerves inside of him. He knows he finds it when Rolan cries out, his tail wrapping around his arm tight. He grins, pushing in the second finger, and continues to press against his prostate. Tav swallows his moans with his mouth, scissoring him open and getting him ready. As much as he may want to torture Rolan a little by dragging it out, it’s been a while, and it’s not one of those nights.

Though, the fact that there's no witty banter this time around worries him. Rolan is the type to tease, provoke, and sass him even during the most vulnerable moments of intimacy. He has a few working theories of why he does it; the vulnerability can be uncomfortable sometimes, so he speaks to calm himself down. He could be genuinely having fun with him, the banter that they have relaxing him. Or the simplest of all, he could just be a very talkative person.

Rolan has barely spoken, and it scares him.

He takes it as slow as he can, slicking his cock and guilding it to Rolan's hole. Pressing his tip into his entrance, he goes inch by inch and quietly moans at the tightness of his twitching rim. He has to stop for a moment when Rolan clenches around him, vision blurring slightly at the heat of it all. Tieflings run pretty hot, and somehow he struggles to remember that; it surprises him every time, without fail.

"Gods you're so tight," he breathes out slowly, leaning down to kiss his chest. Nails grip his hair as he licks one of his nipples, lavishing the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Rolan keens high in his throat, wrapping his legs around Tav's waist as he tries to spear himself more onto his cock. Tav does not let him, gripping his hips almost harshly and holding him in place. If he tries that again, this would all be over too soon.

Rolan gives him a weak glare before tilting his head back with a moan, Tav fully seating himself inside him. He tries to control his breathing, but it fails when Tav does a test roll; he knows he's hitting all the right places by the way his body spasms.

Tav stares down at him in a calm awe, grinding some more while he takes Rolan’s jaw in his free hand. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

He sees how Rolan's cock throbs at the praise, and how he can no longer make eye contact. Tav kisses him either way, albeit a little urgently as he finally starts thrusting into him.

Rolan's hair fans out over his pillow as his head tilts back further, and Tav strains his neck a bit to follow him. His face is debauched in ways Tav can never describe, and he is mesmerized by it. How can someone have such a perfect, flushed, fucked-out face? He can't help but hold his freckled face, needing a closer look.

"You're perfect, so good for me, my love." He whispers against his lips, wanting to see every little reaction he can pull from his lover.

Rolan's eyes get very teary, either from the words or the overwhelming pleasure he feels, he's not sure. His voice shudders as he glances away, unable to keep eye contact. "That's- hah- k-keep talking."

"You are the most amazing person I know. No one ever compares to you; not in looks, smarts, or ambition. I want to give you everything- fuck- you are my everything, and so much more. Gods, look at you..." He murmurs, softening his hold and cupping his face more tenderly. "I'm so thankful I'm the only one who gets to see you like this."

He didn’t expect Rolan to start crying.

At first, he’s instantly filled with dread, and his mind races to figure out what he did wrong. Did he say something he didn't like? Did he hurt him? Did this not feel good? Does he want to stop?

Before he could pull away and ask him, Rolan holds himself tight against him as he digs his heels into his lower back.

“Don’t stop, please don't stop, please please please-“ He sobs, nails raking across his shoulder blades and leaving angry red welts behind.

Instinctively, Tav cradles him close as he picks up the pace, letting him hide into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Rolan sinks his teeth into Tav’s shoulder in an attempt to quiet his moans and cries, the mix of emotions and pleasure almost stunning him. He’s a whimpering mess, the muscles of his abdomen clenching tight before he finally shouts out, his spend decorating the expanse of his and Tav's stomachs with his voice completely shattered.

"Rolan-" He groans out, hips faltering in their pace briefly before he buries himself deep inside him, filling him up to the brim.

It takes him almost too long to come back to himself, drenched in sweat and pressing his forehead into Rolan's collarbones. He mindlessly kisses his sternum as the pleasurable fog clears, running his hand soothingly along his lover's hip bone.

Tav carefully pulls out with a slight grimace, looking down at Rolan’s glazed eyes as he tries to catch his breath. He pecks his forehead, about to move away, but Rolan clings to him. He’s still sobbing and weakly tugging him closer. Obliging, Tav pulls him into his body, littering kissing across his face even as the tears keep coming. He doesn't comment on it, only whispering sweet nothings as he soothes him. He will most likely be embarrassed about it later, but for now, Rolan accepts the praises.

His grip tightens when Tav tries to get up again.

“I just want to clean you up. Is that okay?”

Rolan sniffs, reluctantly letting him go.

He makes his movements as quick as possible, snatching up a clean cloth and some water for him. With a quiet plea, and encourages Rolan to sit up and drink some of it, which he thankfully does as Tav gently wipes down their fluids off of them. They will have to clean the sheets in the morning, but for now, this will do just fine.

Soon they lay together once more, Rolan hiding in Tav’s neck as the tears finally dry. “…I’m tired.”

"I know. Sleep.”

"No, not like that. I'm...I'm really tired." He murmurs, almost inaudible.

Tav hums quietly in acknowledgment, nuzzling the side of his face. So depression decided to strike him recently, huh? That's okay, he will be here for him.

"I'm tired of feeling like a fool," he continues after a moment of silence.

"That tome has you this wrapped up?"

"The more I try to decipher, the more it becomes utterly jumbled. How am I supposed to be the master of the damn tower if I can't decipher a damn book, with a guide?"

"...This isn't just about the tome, is it?"

"Lorroakan could decipher an entire book within hours." He bitterly states.

There it is.

"Your nightmares are back." Tav says matter of factly, gaze softening, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The contents of the nightmares were idiotic at best. I didn't- I thought-" He takes a quick breath before sighing it out. "They're ridiculous. I shouldn't be so affected by them."

"But you are, Rolan."

"He's dead. I won." He hisses out, ready to bare his teeth.

"Yet here you are, trying not to cry at the mere mention of him," he says, not unkindly. "It's only been a few weeks. None of us expect you to be okay right away."

"I should be."

"Rolan, I would be more worried if it didn't affect you."

He scoffs but buries his face deeper into his neck, and Tav feels the wetness of tears running down his skin once more. Tav sighs slowly to calm himself first, then speaks to him again.

"I love you," he murmurs, taking one of his hands in his and squeezing. "And I adore you. You mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to Cal and Lia. Let us help you."

Rolan doesn't say another word, but the way he squeezes his hand back speaks volumes to him. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep exactly where he is, as if his body finally realized it wasn't in danger anymore. It is within minutes, and it's the fastest he's ever seen Rolan fall asleep.

Kissing his sweat-streaked brow, he fully relaxes into the bed and stays with him. The contents of Rolan's nightmares are a mystery to him for now, and while he can guess all night what they were about this time, he's too exhausted to think.

For now, he will sleep with his lover and hope they will be able to talk in the morning.

"You're not alone, and you will see that, love. One day." Tav whispers.

#forest-writes #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #rolan x reader #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #rolan

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nochd · 7 months

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This came across my dash via the #lgbt tag yesterday. I don't want to engage with the OP because that would get me into fights on radfem tumblr and I don't have the energy for that. But the post itself I think is worth answering, just because it's so neatly and exactly wrong.

(Not that my answer is going to spread very far, because I have 37 non-bot followers, of whom I think roughly 35.5 are just here for the nude photos. But anyway.)

Even if I agree just for argument's sake that the existence of intersex people proves that some people can have "nonbinary" sexes, or "third" sexes, and that "sex is a spectrum," how does that have any relevance to people who are not intersex? Like okay, let's "agree" for the moment that intersex people are something other than male or female. How does that make YOU, as a person who is not intersex, something other than male or female? Saying that intersex people's existence somehow makes sex "complicated" for you specifically is like saying that the issue of whether or not you can hear is "complicated" because some other people who are not you suffer from hearing loss or deafness. Like sorry but for 99% of the human population it is not "more complicated" than born with perfectly normal male genitalia = male and born with perfectly normal female genitalia = female, and chances are you fall into that 99%. Sex is not a social construct or a nebulous enigma of a concept. It is not debatable and made up in the manner that gender is. You cannot philosophize about whether there are two sexes any more than you can philosophize about whether humans have two kidneys. Someone having a missing or malformed kidney or accessory kidneys does not change the fact that humans as a species have two kidneys. Humans are gonochoric just like nearly all other animal species on Earth.

Let's start with the arithmetic. If 99% people are of binary sex, that leaves 1% of people who aren't. There are approximately 8 billion humans on Earth. 1% of 8 billion is 80 million -- about sixteen times the population of my entire country. Even just the number of intersex Americans is something like two-thirds the population of my country. This is not a negligible number of people.

There's a deeper error here, one that goes to the root not just of this misunderstanding but of many. Biology is always complicated, at every scale and at every level of explanation. It's messy, it's fuzzy, and it's always bottom-up, never top-down. Everything biological is the way it is because it grew that way. Biology never does the same thing twice.

Why does it seem like it does? Because, of all the ways you can arrange the parts of a living body, only an astonishingly tiny fraction of them actually make a living body. Any genetic mutation that nudges an organism outside of that fraction dies out and doesn't get passed on. Embryonic development is a gruelling tight-rope walk over a vast pit of non-existence.

Now for most of the body's systems, evolution has only had to produce one arrangement that works and survives. There's not an alternative plumbing plan where the oesophagus goes to the lungs and the trachea to the stomach. But for the reproductive system, evolution has to allow for two arrangements that work and survive, and it has to grow them both from the same starter kit.

What it does, therefore, is grow a body plan that works with a continuum of possible arrangements that includes both of those two. Various other points on the continuum may or may not be capable of producing viable gametes, but they're all survivable.

What biology doesn't do -- what biology never ever does -- is run new products on a conveyor belt stamping them into shape with cookie-cutters. The only things made that way are artificial constructs.

#science #biology #sex determination #evolution #embryology #lgbt #intersex #transgender #nonbinary #essentialism #biological essentialism #essentialism is not biological #biology is not friendly to transphobes

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inevitably-johnlocked · 27 days

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hello hello! I was wondering if you had any winged aus tucked away? the latest post I could find (though goodness knows tumblr’s search feature is iffy) was from 2019 and I was curious about an updated list if it isn’t too much trouble!

Hey Lovely!

You are correct, it's been a LONG time since I've put a new list together... I don't have any new personal recs (been a LONG time since I've read them), so what I'm going to do is do a tag search on my MFL list and put together a nice fresh list of fics suggested to me by you guys! Please note that I have NOT read any of the fics on this list so I'm probably wrong somewhere, LOL. They're not ALL winglock, for sure, but if anyone has anything relevant that they can add to this list, please do! Enjoy!

WINGLOCK / ANGELS / DEMONS Pt. 2 (MFLs)

See also:

Winglock / Angels / Demons (Updated Apr 2022)

Sherlock x Good Omens Crossovers (Updated Apr 2022)

The Detective and the Demon by oreganotea (G, 2,389 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural Elements || Pre-Slash, Urban Fantasy, Demons, Humour, Friendship) – “Every demon on record is described as either monstrously terrifying or breathtakingly beautiful,” Sherlock says. “I have never heard of a demon with a forgettable face and a propensity for ugly jumpers.” The demon looks down at his jumper. Okay, so it might not be the most flattering article of clothing in the world, but it sure looks a hell of a lot more comfortable than Sherlock’s two-sizes-too-small shirt.

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

In The Arms Of The Angel by Watermelonsmellinfellon (M, 8,585 w., 3 Ch. || Fallen Angel AU || Friendship, Angels/Wings, BAMF John, Trust, Fluff, Romance, Eventual Happy Ending) – The human population possesses the ability to grow feathers from their spines, but less than even five million at a time ever actually grow any. A feather for a life. Every life saved, earned a feather. The feathers would overlap each other, until there was finally enough to create a wing and if some were lucky, two wings.

The Soldier And The Demon by LipstickDaddy (G, 8,998 w., 6 Ch. || Victorian / Demon AU || Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Soldier John, Demon Sherlock, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Protective Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Johnlock/Kuroshitsuji AU - 1879. Captain John H Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is dying from a near-fatal gunshot wound in the Kandahar desert; until a demon saves his life. There’s a catch, though; one day, his saviour will eat his soul.

You Don't Need Wings to Fly by Laiquilasse (T, 11,326 w., 11 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Bullying, Angels, Suicidal Ideation, Christmas) – John, an angel, is sent from Heaven to help a desperate Sherlock Holmes by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.

Tattered by SrebrnaFH (M, 15,857 w., 6 Ch. || Winglock || Family, Childhood, Society, Abuse, Electricity, Hurt John / Sherlock, Protective John, No Smut, Bullying, Sudden Relationship Change) – John visits Baker Street without any warning and gets an eyeful.

On Feathers and Bacon Sandwiches by Kryptaria(T, 21,092 w., 8 Ch. || Winglock AU || Demon John, Asexual Sherlock) – No one has ever stayed with Sherlock longer than a month. At least, no human. Fortunately, John Watson isn't about to let the little things - like biohazardous experiments and the constant threat of danger - get in the way of his friendship with a very special, very brilliant man like Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Feathers 'verse

The 13th Book by meet_me_in_samarra (T, 24,491 w., 13 Ch. || Magical Realism Winglock AU || Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Witty Banter, Interspecies Bromance, Demon Sherlock) – Summoning a demon was actually quite simple if you could avoid getting killed in the process. Therefore, only the powerful, the desperate or the stupid would attempt it. John Watson was likely the first, definitely the second but hopefully not one of the third kind.

This Is Family by SaraStarchild (T, 39,840 w., 16 Ch. || Hereditary AU || Psychological Horror, Body Horror, Demonic Possession, POV Third Person Limited, Protective Mycroft, Cults, Mycroft Whump, Sherlock Whump, Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Retelling) – When the Holmes family's secretive mother and matriarch, Ellen Holmes, passes away, the family she leaves behind – father Martin, sons Mycroft and Sherlock, and daughter Eurus – begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry. The more they discover, the more they find themselves trying to outrun the sinister fate they seem to have inherited. This is, pretty much, a word-for-word retelling of the 2018 Ari Aster film, Hereditary. Part 1 of Sherlock Halloween Stories

Though the brightest fell by BeMyGoldfish (M, 41,243 w., 7 Ch. || Celestial AU || Post THoB, Soulmates, Guardian Angels, Demons, Mystrade, Background Johnlock) – In his office, Mycroft (the Archangel) tries to recruit Greg (the ‘ex-angel’ mortal) on a celestial mission to save Sherlock from what he wants most. "This is some elaborate joke cooked up by your brother as revenge for me not asking him to help on the Islington Exsanguinations, isn't it? How did he get you in on it, Mycroft? Did he hide your trouser press? Or threaten to expose your secret ciggie habit to your mum? This isn't funny. It's weird and obscure, but it is not funny.”

Trapped by Gem_Gem & harrylee94 (M, 41,311 w., 3 Ch. || Demon John AU || Demon John, Mild Gore, POV Sherlock, Mild Homophobic Language, Kiss, Bonding) – During his most recent case, Sherlock finds himself in the hands of the very people he had been trying to pursue. This mistake lands him in a cell, already occupied by a strange man who calls himself John. But who is John? And why does he look so... hungry? Part 3 of the Bonded by Words Stories series

Murderous Imprint by MojoFlower (E, 52,634 w., 24 Ch. || Winglock || Organ Theft, Imprinting, First Kiss / Time, Whump, Torture, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Case Fic, Magical Realism) – Sherlock should be focusing on the series of brutal vivisections Lestrade has brought to him. Instead he's distracted by a most amazing and unexpected experimental opportunity from the basement apartment of 221C. Will he figure out the one in time to stop the other? And does he need help in order to do it? Part 1 of the Hatch series

Not English But Angels by orphan_account (E, 203,251 w., 15 Ch. || Twisted Canon, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Minor Character Death) – A sort-of canon, sort-of AU fic in which I twist and supplement canon to weave it into a new story in which Sherlock and John come from different worlds and nothing is quite what it seems.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

The Posthumous Game by S_IRIS (E, 58,695+ w., 12/19 Ch. || WiP || Supernatural Elements AU || S4 Fix It, Crack, Humour, Fluff, Demonic Possession, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Whump, Hurt Comfort, Hallucinations) – A Season 4 fix-it fic where Jim Moriarty really is dead but comes back as a demon to haunt Sherlock. The only problem is Jim is a total newbie at demonic possession so he tries to make-do and ends up making Johnlock happen. Only, it doesn’t happen the way you’d think.

Hellfire by HarleysCompass (E, 66,660+ w., 19/? Ch. || WiP || Fallen Angel AU || Biblical References, BAMF John, Sexual Content, Fallen Angel John) – In 1880 Dr. John H. Watson dies on foreign soil. The next thing he knows he's wandering the planes of Heaven. After betraying God, John is cast out, employed by the devil, and protecting a sociopath of a human with a penchant for trouble and pissing off Angels.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #winglock fics #angels and demons #supernatural fics #magical realism fics #my fic recs #marked for later fics #wip fics

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lulu24784 · 1 year

Text

washing machine heart | part 10

"I know who you pretend I am."

[AO3 Link]

previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: | You're absolutely infatuated with Stan Marsh and have even started dating him! It should be a dream come true, but the truth is, he's only with you to make Wendy Testaburger jealous. To help you work through your emotions, you turn to Kenny McCormick, your best friend.

pairings: | kenny mccormick x fem! reader ; stan marsh x fem! reader ; wendy testaburger x stan marsh

cws: | angst, drug use/drug mentions, explicit language, sexual content, unrequited love, mental health themes / sh, violence

everyone is aged up to be 18+

tag list @c1rice @ayoitsmarie33

It had been about a week since your whole world had come crashing down. Saddened by your recent heartbreak, you were progressively redirecting yourself with other hobbies, such as baking and singing your heart out.

As the sweet melodies of your mother's old iPod filled the air, you couldn't help but wonder how it was still working after all these years. The tunes reverberated through the cozy living room and kitchen, amplified by the trusty stereo that had been a fixture in the house for years. The music was a mix of 80s, 90s, and early 2000s music, which you didn’t mind. As those old songs filled your ears, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, reminding you of the countless hours spent listening to them with your Mother while growing up.

At the moment, "Cruel Summer" by Bananarama was your jam, and every time you cranked up the volume, you sang out the words with all your might, even occasionally restarting the song before it ended. Along with it, you loudly and wildly sang along to some Backstreet Boys. In all honesty, it was enjoyable and, in a strange way, helpful.

As you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music, you carefully mixed the cheesecake batter. Just as you hit the high note of your favorite song, your phone chimed, interrupting your impromptu kitchen concert. As the familiar chime of your phone echoed through the room, a grin spread across your face. With your bowl still cradled in your arms, you couldn't resist stealing a quick glance at the screen.

It was Wendy's group chat that she asked you to join. You were thrilled as hell.

If anything good had come out of your recent breakup, it was that you had finally made some new friends. Ones that hung out and did girly stuff! Those childhood pursuits you regret not devoting more time to.

For the past few lunchtimes, you've had the privilege of joining their circle, delighting in their juicy gossip, and chiming in with your own relevant contributions. Your heart would flutter with excitement whenever they inquired about you, loving the fact that they valued your presence enough to seek out more information. You felt loved and wanted, and you wanted that sensation forever.

As you perused through your text alerts, your eyes caught a glimpse of Bebe's message announcing a slumber party at her place tonight and… You were invited! A spark ignited in your eyes as you gently placed your bowl of batter on the counter. You then jumped up with a burst of excitement and let out a delightful squeak of joy. Holy crap! You were about to have your very first sleepover! You needed to get ready!

Oh, but first… You needed to finish with your baking. Ah! Maybe you'd want to share some of the baked goods you've created with the group... A rosy hue spread across your cheeks as the idea crossed your mind, making you feel a touch shy. Would that be too much?

As your mind raced with a million different ideas, a sudden knock at your kitchen window jolted you back to reality. As you glanced over, Kenny greeted you with a friendly wave and a silly grin on his face. As your gaze met his, you couldn't help but notice the gap in his smile, and a surge of guilt flooded your heart.

With a friendly wave in return, you hurried to the entrance and swung open the door to welcome him in.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?”

“Just popped over to visit my favorite girl~” With a grin on his face, Kenny hugged you tightly, eliciting a joyful chuckle from your lips.

“Geez you! I gotta finish baking, I have a sleepover I’m going to!” Your eyes twinkled with delight as you spoke with Kenny, beaming a radiant smile his way. He patted your head, but his lips curled up in a little pout.

“You’re always so busy now, Princess. You never have time for me, I’m gonna start getting jealous.”

A playful inflection colored his words, revealing his humorous intent. You gracefully separated yourself from his grasp and headed over to the kitchen counter, resuming your meticulous cheesecake preparations.

“Sorry, Ken! It’s just, it’s been a lot lately and I’m really enjoying my time with them!”

With a grin on his face, Kenny strolled towards the kitchen table and settled himself down, his gaze fixed on you with a gentle warmth.

“I know, babe. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

With a gentle sigh, he leaned forward and let his arms find solace on the sturdy table. His head followed suit, nestling into the comfort of his arms as his unwavering gaze remained fixed on you.

Humming along to the music that filled the air, you gracefully poured the batter into the dish, carefully placing it in the fridge. A contented grin spread across your face as you eagerly awaited the outcome of your no-bake cheesecake after it had been left to chill. With a swift motion, you snatched a muffin from the counter and presented it to Kenny, placing it with care on the table before him.

Then, with an eyebrow lifted, he picked up the muffin and began to snack on it.

“I made it. Is it any good?”

“Tastes good to me. What’d you do? Poison it?” He laughed.

“No… Just wondering if it was good enough for me to bring to the sleepover. Or is that weird?”

“I think they’d like it… Or you could just leave them all for me~”

You shared a grin with Kenny as you both sat at the kitchen table. “I’ll make you your own batch. Oh, that reminds me. You and Karen should come over for dinner soon. My parents still aren’t back and I’m getting pretty lonely here without my lil’ sister around.”

Kenny's face lit up with a bright smile as he gave a nod of approval, savoring the last crumbs of his tasty muffin and playfully licking his fingertips. “Definitely. She’d love that.”

The two of you chatted a little more and listened to music together before he left and you began to get ready for your big slumber party.

—---------------------------------------

Summoning all your bravery, you knocked on Bebe's door with a resounding thud. You took a long, anticipatory inhale, holding it in as you waited for her to answer. You could hear a commotion inside and suddenly, the door burst open and she stood before you, beaming with a bright smile, inviting you inside to join the rest of the girls.

You set your belongings down and presented your homemade muffins to the group. The girls eagerly snatched them up, their eyes lighting up with excitement as they took their first bites. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you watched them enjoy your baking.

Thank god.

“Wow! You’re really good at baking, [Name]!” Wendy spoke out as she finished her snack and smiled at you.

“Yeah! Damn, we should’ve invited you a long time ago!” A chuckle escaped Bebe's lips, causing the other girls to shoot her a disapproving glance.

Your lips curled up in a shy smile as you nervously tugged at the hem of your sweater.

“I only just started doing it recently. It’s pretty easy. I bet we could all make something together sometime.”

“God you’re cute.” With a mischievous grin, Bebe enveloped you in a warm hug while you all lounged on the carpet. Your cheeks turned a rosy hue involuntarily from the interaction.

“Isn’t she?! I just wanna eat her up.” With a playful twinkle in their eyes, Red and Heidi beckoned you over to join them, leaving poor Bebe behind. As you settled in next to them, their infectious giggles filled the air.

With a smile on her face, Wendy simply shook her head in amusement. “You guys are gonna scare her. [Name], I promise you, they’re not usually this flirty.”

You just giggled, enjoying the attention.

The night flew by. The group indulged in a fun-filled evening of nail painting, hair braiding, and spine-chilling horror flicks. Occasionally snacking on chips and popcorn. It lived up to every expectation you had envisioned. The only missing pieces to complete the picture-perfect scene were a thrilling game of Truth or Dare and a sexy pillow fight, just like the ones you’d see in the movies.

“So.”

As you sat comfortably, Bebe's quick fingers weaved through your hair, creating a beautiful braid while Heidi sat across from you, expertly painting your nails with a vibrant shade of red.

“Have you dated anyone else? Besides Stan?”

All eyes in the room swiveled in your direction, their shared curiosity apparent as they anticipated your response.

“N-No. Stan is the only guy.” Your voice was a mere whisper as if you were sharing a secret that made you blush. You felt a bit inferior in comparison since you were certain that they had all dated multiple people.

“Really? Not even Kenny?” With a gasp, Red eagerly shoveled handfuls of popcorn into her mouth.

“No… Kenny’s just my friend.”

A burst of giggles erupted from Bebe's lips, quickly spreading throughout the rest of the group with contagious laughter.

“Mhm, girl. Sure. We all got a guy who’s just a friend.” She teased.

“Yeah! Like Red and Kevin.” Heidi giggled.

“Yeah?! What about you and Kyle?! Or is it Eric again?” Red let out a playful huff and stuck her tongue out at Heidi, who responded with a dramatic gasp of mock surprise.

“I’m obviously “just friends” with Clyde.” A delicate giggle escaped Bebe's lips, and a rosy tint painted her cheeks as she uttered her words. “And Wendy-” She paused.

A timid smile spread across Wendy's face as she offered a sheepish shrug. “Um… Tolkien is cute.”

You were well aware that the mere mention of Stan's name in your presence was a taboo subject, but you didn't mind it one bit. You were now her friend, regardless of whether she had love for him still. If you had to, you'd do your hardest to suppress your feelings for Stan, for her.

“But for real? You and Kenny have never dated?” With a swift maneuver, Heidi steered the topic away from the potentially uncomfortable subject of your current situation with Stan.

“Nope. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. Or him, like that… I guess…” You paused, deep in thought, your finger lightly touching your chin.

“Seriously?! He’s totally into you!” Bebe exclaimed, her hand shaking you as she clutched onto your shoulder in astonishment.

“H-He is?”

“Yes!” The group shouted in unison.

Your mind was blown by this unexpected information. The idea of Kenny harboring romantic feelings for you had never crossed your mind. His charming and adorable nature made him naturally inclined to be touchy and flirty with everyone he met. He treated you the same way he treated his other friends. You didn't know what to make of this and were left puzzled.

“But.” You started. “There’s no way. He hasn’t tried anything, and it’s Kenny. I know him!”

“You have so much to learn.” With a wide smile on her face, Wendy chuckled heartily.

At that moment, like fate was just there to fuck with you, there was a tapping on Bebe’s bedroom window.

A sudden burst of laughter filled the air as the girls couldn't contain their excitement. They hushed each other, eager to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside. Red, the brave one, took the lead and cautiously peeked through the curtains. With a fit of giggles, she withdrew and nestled back into the group of girls.

“So… The guys are outside and they’re throwing fucking rocks at the window.”

“Oh my god, if they break the glass I’ll kill them!” Bebe yelled and ran to the window, where she tore open the curtains.

From the ground, Stan's crew and Craig's crew eagerly waved up at Bebe, who stood tall above them. As the other ladies scampered towards the window, you hesitantly trailed behind, cautiously peering out. In an instant, your eyes locked with Kenny's, causing a pink shade to bloom across your cheeks. As you averted your gaze, your eyes caught a glimpse of Stan standing beneath you, and a pang of pain shot through your chest. Shit.

“Hey, you stupid bitches!” The grating tone of Eric's voice reverberated with great force throughout the entire neighborhood.

“Tolkien’s parents aren’t home tonight, we're all gonna hang out there!” With a grin stretching from ear to ear, Clyde's palms cradled his cheeks as he projected his words toward the window.

A burst of joyous giggles escaped Bebe's lips. “We’ll be there! Just give us a few minutes to get ready!”

With a slight tug, she drew the curtain shut and closed the window with a soft click. “Change of plans ladies. We’re gonna go party.”

The unexpected turn your night had taken made your stomach start to flip.

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x reader #lulu works

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months

Text

Daughter of the Rain and Snow

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who put her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @ethereal-maia @cartoon-clifford @origami-butterfly @lady-a-stuff

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's threats and ptsd references.

Chapter 20 - Kaz

The five of them sat in the living room of the Hendricks house, staring at the ominous array of letters spread across the coffee table. There were seven in total, the two he and Inej had found in their house, Wylan’s, Jesper’s, Nina’s, and the second ones for him and Inej. Six of them lay open, their neatly inked words staring at the ceiling, their folded edges refusing to quite lie flat. Inej’s new envelope lay next to them, still sealed. Kaz had set them out in the order they’d been delivered - Nina’s, his and Inej’s, Jesper and Wylan’s, his, Inej’s. He let his eyes slip across the pages and read them for the thousandth time.

Do you like living in the fortress you almost destroyed? Does it amuse you? Enjoy your cage, little red bird, be it gilded or not.

You're losing your touch, Brekker. I hope you've enjoyed your time on top. Shame these things never last.

Hello, little lynx.

Did you think paying your debts made us even, Fahey? You may not owe us anymore, but I definitely owe you. See you soon

Enjoy your blood money.

And then the one he’d found on his desk this morning.

The countdown’s started, Brekker, how many breaths left til your last?

Kaz sighed. They had no clear starting point, no clues that pointed to any particular party.

“Only two of our names are used in the notes themselves,” he said eventually, even though he wasn’t sure that was particularly relevant, “Nina who was your letter for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was it addressed to you or to Mila?”

“Me,” she fidgeted with her sleeve, “That was almost the most frightening part. Who would use my real name?”

Inej looked up sharply, panic in her eyes sending a shockwave through Kaz’s heartbeat.

“I do,” she said, “Always. An envelope that says Nina, inside an envelope that says Mila - with a little ‘X’ in the corner so you know to open it alone. Could someone have intercepted that, to find out who you are?”

“It’s possible,” said Kaz.

Inej flushed, dark eyes slipping to a downcast gaze. Nina took her hand and squeezed it tight.

“So the envelopes were all correctly addressed,” said Kaz, “Except for Wylan’s. Yours, Nina, had to do everything it could to get you to Ketterdam - scare you with your real name, reference the Ice Court heist, bring to surface doubts you presumably already had about living in Fjerda,”

“Gee, thanks, Kaz,”

“But it doesn't seem like ours were supposed to connect us straight away,” he continued, “Until I saw you were here, I had no reason to think these were coming to anyone but me and Inej. Did they want to keep us separate from the three of you?”

“I don’t think so,” said Wylan, “They clearly know enough about us for it to be a safe assumption we’d tell each other - especially if they wanted Nina to come to the house. If you two weren’t already here, we’d have been coming to find you anyway - at least when we saw they knew about the Ice Court,”

Kaz nodded.

“But I didn’t come straight to the house,” said Nina, “I went to Inej and Kaz’s first, then here when I found their place empty,”

“Then were we meant to be kept separate?” asked Jesper

Wylan shook his head.

“You’d have still known it was linked to the Ice Court,”

“So we still would’ve come to you,” finished Nina.

“I’d like to think you’d come anyway if you were in the city,” added Jesper, “I’m rather offended you went to find Inej first,”

“It’s because I’m her favourite,”

“I thought you were on a job, Inej” said Nina, “I went to find Kaz first,”

“Well now I’m especially offended,” said Jesper, “So I’m not going to offer you a coffee. Would anyone else like a coffee?”

Everyone requested one. Inej was refused one - on grounds everyone else seemed to be aware of and Kaz had no interest in trivially learning.

Kaz heard Jesper asking the maid for 4 coffees and a cup of tea from round the corner, that mousy little question mark of a girl he’d found wandering around the Crow Club like a lost lamb a few years ago. She didn’t seem to have changed much since then, still scrawny and nervous - and intriguing. There was mystery there he didn’t understand; the way she seemed to exist at odds with herself like there was something being kept from her about her own personality.

It was a trivial thing to think about. He nudged Inej’s unopened letter across the table towards her.

“Last piece of the puzzle?”

“I wouldn’t have high hopes,” she replied, picking it up.

Considering she wasn’t wearing any of her usual sheaths or quickdraws, Kaz had no idea where the little knife that appeared in Inej’s hand had just come from. She sliced deftly through the envelope and discarded it on the table as she slipped the paper free. Her eyes scanned the page and Kaz watched the tension in her fingers tighten, crumpling the edges of the paper ever so slightly where she held it.

“They’re listening to us,” she whispered, eyes not lifting from the words.

Kaz frowned.

“Right now?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. But they were listening in the shelter,”

“That’s not possible,” said Kaz, “No-one knows it’s there,”

“No-one knows I’m Mila Jandersdat,” Nina reminded him.

Inej passed the letter across the table and Kaz picked it up, brow furrowing as he read.

Do your Saints demand penance?

He passed the paper to Nina.

“Why does this mean they’re listening?” he asked

“That’s what she said to me,” murmured Inej, flicking that little blade between her fingertips, “When…”

Kaz nodded. He wouldn’t make her say it out loud again. If it became necessary for the others to know, and she couldn’t face it, he could give them the summarised version.

“What who said?” asked Nina

“A girl Inej sprang from the Tulip Mill,” said Kaz, ignoring the questioning expression that crossed Nina’s face.

Inej was sure to talk to her later alone, she would get her answers then.

“Anyone fancy telling me what this girl said?” asked Wylan

Nina read the question out loud, and Wylan frowned.

“Penance for what?” he asked

Inej looked away.

“She called me a traitor,” she’d told him in the bedroom, “for being with you. A betrayal of all the people like us. Like me,”

“Do you agree with her?” he’d forced himself to murmur.

He needed the answer even though he thought he knew it. Because if Inej didn’t think that, at least to some amount, why would it ever have upset her this much? Baseless accusations don’t make people sink like that. There has to be truth to a thing for it to drown you.

Kaz thought of Nina’s letter, raising doubts she’d surely felt herself. Was he Inej’s gilded cage, trading one prison for another? And if he knew that, should he set her free?

Inej had swallowed, hand twisting in his palm.

“No,”

He’d nodded, watching her hand raise to slowly cup his cheek. He didn’t stop her.

“I promise you,” she’d whispered, like she’d known what he needed to hear, moving closer as they breathed in tandem.

Kaz tightened his grip on his cane. She was a good liar, his mind told him, that was all. He wondered if there was a way of throttling the taunting voice inside his head, as if it weren’t the only one in there.

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rainbowsky · 1 year

Text

Yibo-Official international accounts

I've gotten a lot of asks about the new Twitter account, so I guess I'll finally address these accounts Yibo-Official has created on international platforms:

Yibo-Official Instagram <- fake?

Yibo-Official YouTube <- fake?

Yibo-Official Twitter <- FAKE!!

Because the Twitter account has been shown to be fake, this calls into question the authenticity of all of them for me. The fan club that shared the Twitter account is the same one that shared the others. Proceed with caution.

However etiquette is still important so I'm going to leave this post up.

Let's talk a bit about etiquette...

International account etiquette

For those who are maybe newer to the fandom or who haven't spent a lot of time on the Weibo supertopics, you might not be aware of the rules and protocols turtles have over there.

Here are the rules in brief:

Never use their real names or tag their accounts.

Nor any other public figure.

Stay 'on-topic' and in your own lane, don't attack others.

Observe and respect top-bottom dynamics.

Don't use other people's content without permission, always attribute.

No feminizing or denigrating, or anything that can damage their image.

No sharing of private information or media about GGDD, no oversexualizing.

No fandom policing or spamming of the supertopic.

No sharing of anti material.

No reposting of content from other platforms.

No spreading of unconfirmed rumors and gossip.

Don't fill the supertopic with unrelated or personal posts.

No unauthorized contests or lotteries.

No merch or sales without admin approval.

There are some people who feel strongly that those rules should apply to international platforms as well. I've always disagreed with that to some degree. I talk about that a bit in this post. However, with GG and DD going more international these rules are becoming more and more relevant to us.

The first rule of BJYX is...

However one of the rules I feel absolutely must apply here as well as on Weibo, is rule #1: Never tag their official accounts or refer to them using their real names.

There are many good reasons for this, but ultimately what it boils down to is,

"what happens in turtledom stays in turtledom."

Everything we do here is for turtle eyes only. When you tag outside accounts or mention/tag their names or initials, you bring others into our world. That crossover can harm GG and DD in various ways.

This is something I talk about in my Fandom Etiquette guide, and it's something I feel very strongly about.

Just look at Twitter, where BXG are often tagging CPN posts, fan art and photo edits with GG and DD's individual names. Look at all the fan wars that causes when solos browsing their hashtags stumble across CPN and turtle fan content. It's completely out of control.

We don't like it when solos tag their hateful rhetoric with #bjyx or #yizhan, and this is why. It invades and impacts our experience of fandom. Please respect the fandom experience of others. Even solos you dislike deserve this courtesy, and as I have already stated, fan wars are harmful. We need to do whatever we can to prevent them.

And it's not just solos we should be concerned about. Anyone interested in GG or DD, when going to Twitter, is likely to browse #wangyibo and #xiaozhan. The last thing we should want them to stumble across is a fanfic prompt about spitroasting, pornographic fanart of GGDD, or CPN clowning.

Respect GG and DD's personal reputations.

It's fine to clown, it's fine to write fanfic and draw fanart - even smut. But it's not OK to make that a feature of what passersby will see when looking them up. STAY IN YOUR OWN LANE.

This is doubly true with their official accounts. Just don't do it.

And this goes triply for tagging official accounts in fandom disputes. Incredibly I've seen this happen on Twitter quite a bit, including solos tagging official endorsement accounts to slander BXG.

Do I really need to explain why that's an insane, ridiculous, utterly disruptive and awful thing to do?

EDIT: And toxic XFX on Twitter are currently tagging Yibo-Official on turtle CPN posts, trying to start a war. As I said in this update, blocking is the best protection for turtles and for Yibo-Official. Toxics can't tag and harass over posts they can't even see.

Bottom line: Just don't tag their official accounts. Don't comment in their account threads with anything Yizhan related - or anything related to the other (i.e. don't mention GG in DD's comment threads, or vice versa). Don't mention their real names in your clownery.

Don't do it.

Stay in your own lane.

A note on authenticity

I waited to post about these because I wanted to be sure they weren't fakes. While DD's fan club did post them on Weibo, I wanted to be doubly sure because of how misleading fakes can be. Especially since there were issues with one of the videos being removed from the YouTube channel (it was later restored).

The release of the Hidden Blade roadshow video on YT confirmed for me that this is highly unlikely to be a fake account. The video uses English captions in the same style as the Chinese ones that appeared on Weibo, which means that whoever added the captions had to have access to the original footage.

The amount of effort someone would have to go to in order to fake that clip, it's unlikely to be fake. They'd have to hunt down all the original clips (if the footage was even ever released previously), edit it precisely and then add captions. Not something I see a faker bothering with.

So while these accounts will likely never be 100% verified, I think we can be reasonably certain of their authenticity.

UPDATE: The Twitter account was a fake, so I think that we need to consider that all of them might be fake because the fan club that shared the Twitter link was the same one that shared the link to the YouTube and Instagram accounts.

Update 2: They are very likely real. I explain why here.

Is Tumblr coming next?

Some people asked me if Yibo-Official will create a Tumblr account. You people are monsters!! 😅 No, please no! The last thing I need to worry about is DD's team reading our clownery here! 😅

Rest assured, this is highly unlikely to ever happen. Tumblr is far too tiny of an audience to make maintaining an account here even remotely worth it. Especially since most of the people here also use the other major international platforms. There would be no point.

EDIT: Follow-up post here.

#bjyx #yizhan #bjyxszd #fandom reflections #yibo official #dd twitter #dd instagram #dd youtube #ask

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theluckywizard · 5 months

Text

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 59: Tangled**

Chapter Summary: Rose contends with the aftermath and consequences of her night with Hawke while forging ahead trying to access the rift underneath the lake.

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke. Excerpt below cut ⏬

I distract myself momentarily, flipping open the lid of my pen box and retrieve my locket. I pop it open and pinch the little coin between my thumb and forefinger. It feels like it’s been an age since I first held it in my hand. And it feels nearly as long since the meaning it once held was tarnished.

I gather up the pieces of all my ridiculous hopes. The ones I never let go of, the ones Hawke of all people had offered this morning, wishes patched up with his confident, clumsy assurances. Maybe it just wasn’t the right moment for Cullen and I. Maybe I’ll return to Skyhold and get another chance.

“I thought you would be in the tower,” says Cassandra. I nearly spit out my mouthful of tea then slowly turn to look at her. She doesn’t look up, seemingly absorbed in her reading. I put the locket away again.

“I— will be staying in our usual tent,” I tell her.

“Oh, I heard that you stayed there last night,” she remarked, her expression mildly entertained try as she might to hide it.

Maker, does she know? Varric seemed keenly aware.

“I— yes.”

“When you did not come to turn in, I thought I would check with the scouts about your whereabouts. I was told you had gone to the keep tower with the Champion,” she says in her usual flat tone. “I did not mean to pry.”

I feel the heat of a murderous blush race across my cheeks. Somehow I doubt her lack of interest.

“Didn’t mean to pry?” I ask her, forcing a skeptical smile through my mortification. “You could just ask, Cassandra.”

“I— am sure you had work to discuss,” she says, nodding with a perfectly straight face that moments later dissolves into a ridiculous pink-cheeked smirk. I bury my smile in my hands and then lose myself in a peal of tenacious laughter. The absurdity of it surges forth again.

“Yes. Work,” I laugh. “We were— planning.”

After a prolonged pause she continues. “I— hope it was a good planning session.” She peers up at me from her sixth reread of the last issue of Swords and Shields with a raised brow and then hides her amusement behind the well worn volume.

Well, I can’t leave her entirely in the dark.

“It was an exceptional planning session.”

“But you do not need to plan again tonight,” she confirms.

“I— think just the one night of planning should suffice.”

Cassandra eyes me doubtfully while I sip my tea.

“But you said it was exceptional,” she protests.

It was . I don’t have an answer for her. Even now I catch myself gazing across the upper bailey from inside our tent, searching for him, his whereabouts interesting me more than I care to admit.

If everyone knows, they certainly aren’t teasing me about it, which leads me to doubt the gossip had spread thoroughly through the ranks. Maker knows that Bull and Sera would have had a smart remark. And Dorian would have cornered me on the matter first thing.

I stand to stretch my back and walk to the tent entrance, gazing across the keep through the drizzle. An orange glow flickers in the tower windows. I squint like it’s a mirage, and then laugh because it’s real.

Read the Rest Here

Start the Fic Here

DAFF Tag List

#In the Shattering of Things #Rose Trevelyan #Garrett Hawke #Rawke #Roserford #Hawke x Trevelyan #Cullen x Trevelyan #Hot Mess #theluckywizard #Crestwood #Dragon Age Fan Fiction

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just-antithings · 9 months

Note

(Big of a long one, sorry)

I just came across another one of those "if you put your Hogwarts houses in your bio you're a terf" posts, and in the tags one of the people was talking about how they had a Gryffindor tshirt that was their favourite thing to wear which they just threw away because they'd rather never have such a thing touch them again. Fair enough, what anyone is comfortable with in their personal life is none of my business. But it did remind me of something similar that happened with me.

I own a perfectly good Fantastic Beasts t-shirt. It's the kind that has a simple design and good enough material to last YEARS. I did, of course, buy it before I knew about all this JKR business. Then couple of years ago I was faced with the fact that I own some HP merch and the dilemma of whether or not I should throw it away. This surprisingly came down to a moment where I properly understood and defined my own politics to myself.

At the same time that I had some people in my circles insisting on these performative measures, I was also learning about fast fashion and the very real impacts of clothing trends on the environment. After reading up on it enough and seeing the gross appropriation of "thrifting", it became obvious that the solution is to "reduce" waste, to stop buying more clothes than you need, to stop throwing away perfectly good clothes, to stitch up clothing that needs mending instead of replacing it, etc. The best clothing for the environment is the one already in your closet. That idea. Was I going to make an exception in this case and throw away this t-shirt because someone might think me a class traitor for it, even though whether I keep it or discard it doesn't actually change the support JKR doe or doesn't have anymore? On the one hand it was just one tshirt and it would keep me safe from my peers in those liberal circles. On the other hand it made me feel shame like i had never felt before. It reminded me of every other performative thing I've done in the name of activism and how little it has amounted to. I'm the kind of person who still has my wardrobe from five years ago almost intact with very few changes. Wasteful consumption has a very real cost and I don't do that anymore, so when it came down to tossing that tshirt out it ended up meaning more than it should have. I kept the tshirt. It's still in great shape, it's gonna last many years more as well and save me that much more consumption waste.

What if i had given it away? Would some random person who hasn't ever heard of the JKR drama (consider: I'm not from the West) suddenly become a Terf by wearing it? Would it keep HP and JKR relevant because some person who hardly even knows HP is now wearing a second hand tshirt from someone? When I went to another trans friend's house, who has been there for the community every single day, who has worked hard at the ground levels to create safe spaces for queer people, who has advocated for trans rights in our country, and when i saw their HP merch, what kind of an asshole would I be to call them out on it or say that I suddenly don't trust them because they made a reference to some book we all read as kids? In that moment, sitting with that friend, I also realised how far removed our day-to-day lives actually are from what was considered activism in online spaces. The latter can be great when it's about spreading information and having discussions. But something that reeks that much of simply a performance? Idk, I don't think people talking about HP in their daily lives or wearing an old Gryffindor tshirt or reblogging a gif has as much power over the queer struggle as people here seem to think. It's getting a bit annoying how because I see more posts talking about HP just to tell people who are engaging with it to die than i see actual posts by people just talking about the book. I think the former are the ones actually keeping it more relevant than it is

#mod erin #ask #posted without comment

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iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

Text

Words Unsaid

Part 6

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff / angst / royal au

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: And yet again, a few swears in this one and mentions of sex. However there will be some major triggers in later chapters. These will be tagged appropriately on the relevant chapters, but please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist || SPN Masterlist

Previous || Next

I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

“What are you doing?" You whisper and your heart is in your throat. He is so close to you that you can smell the faint whiff of whiskey on his breath - he must have been down at the tavern.

His nose touches yours gently as he pulls you towards him, fingers flexing against your skin.

"I'm fighting for what I want." He whispers.

And then he is kissing you.

His kiss consumes you completely, lips soft and gentle but insistent as they collide against your own. His fingers slide so he’s cupping your cheek while the hand on your waist tugs you closer so your knees knock into his. You brain desperately scrambles for how you got here. Weren’t you just yelling at each other? How is he now kissing you as though his life depends on it?

He nips at your bottom lip sending your mind blank for a moment. You want to give yourself over to this feeling completely, to sigh and pull him closer. You want to thread your fingers through his dirty blonde hair and pull him into you, let him take over. But the little niggle in the back of your mind won’t let go and so you find yourself instead putting both hands flat on his chest and pushing hard, his lips disconnecting from yours abruptly.

He blinks down at you in a daze and you can’t help but notice how dark his eyes seem, pupils blown with lust. Before you even have chance to form a coherent thought though, he tries to duck back in to your lips but your hands stay firm on his chest.

"What are you doing?" You can hear the shake in your voice, how breathless it is, and you hate it, but with your mind spinning in circles everything just seems too much. You can’t focus on anything.

"I think it's fairly obvious, Sweetheart." While his words have the familiar sarcastic tone, his face is full of amused fondness. A softness there that completely contrasts to the earlier intensity. He moves his other hand to your hip and lessens his grip, his thumbs rubbing back and forth gently.

You try to pull back more and give yourself space to think but his hands keep you where you are. You sigh heavily. "You can't just –"

You are cut off with his mouth on yours again, firm and sure. His arms wrap back around you so that you are pressed fully against him, hands trapped between your body and his. Despite your earlier protests, you can't help but respond, his kiss completely intoxicating. His tongue gently sweeps across your bottom lip and your mouth opens without you even thinking about it. A small, strangled groan comes from the back of his throat and he takes a step forward, your body moving with his easily.

Your stomach clenches as he tilts his head and plunges his tongue into your mouth. You feel heat rapidly start to spread low in your belly, and it's perfect, just like that night all over again. He keeps moving you backwards slowly until your hip hits the desk in the corner of the room and it brings you back to your senses once again. You push hard against him again. "Dean-"

You only get out one word before his mouth slants over yours hungrily, his body pressed tight against yours. You gasp when both his hands tighten on your hips suddenly and lift, settling you on the top of the desk. Your legs fall open, and he steps forward between them.

He's clearly trying to prove a point, and he's doing a damn good job of it.

Whatever you it is.

He pulls you forward and your bodies collide at just the right spot making you moan loudly. He's hard beneath you, and you feel a slight thrill that you’ve caused this reaction in him. That it is you that’s caused him to strain against his britches. You need the friction and so you shift your body against his, a broken gasp leaving your throat at the heat that's spiking through you. He tightens his hands on your hips while nudging your chin up with his nose to expose your throat and leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin there.

You blink up at the ceiling of your bedroom, trying hard to clear the haze in your head. You need to stop this and talk to him. You still don’t understand what it is exactly he wants from you. The more he kisses you, the deeper your falling. He feels so good against you, and you’re beginning to not care so much about the why anymore just as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing.

He continues his assault on your neck, sending waves of pleasure over your skin. Small little grunts and growls leave him as he nips the soft skin and you idly wonder if he’s left any marks. His hand slowly descends down from your hip to your thigh and try as you might, you can't get your brain working to pause, to just take a breath. Before you know it, his fingers curl around the back of your knee. All of his words from earlier are twisting and turning in a confused mess in your head, made worse by the way he's moving against you, and you can't breathe, can't think, can’t do anything but hang on for the ride.

"God, Sweetheart." He's panting against your neck, hand clenching in the fabric of your nightgown, pulling it up to expose the tops of your knees. "I want you so badly."

You suddenly freeze against him. Despite the goose bumps erupting over your skin at his words, his explanation of I'm fighting for what I want mixes with I want you so badly and you feel a chill down your spine and your stomach drops to your toes. Realisation of what this is hits you hard and you swallow thickly.

He wants you, but not all of you. He just wants this, this pulsing physicality that surges between you.

He wants to bed you, just like he did your maid.

The hot pressure burns behind your eyes once again and your left feel so stupid. You worm your hands between you and brace them on his arms.

"Dean." He ignores you, mouth still firmly attached to your pulse point. His teeth graze your skin, causing your eyes to flutter but the spell has broken. You push him away hard.

"Dean, stop."

He freezes instantly at the word, finally pulling back and resting his hands on your knees. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He swallows hard, blinking rapidly while he calms his breathing. His eyes search your face as his hand comes to cup your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in confusion when he sees the look on your face.

"Did I hurt you?"

You bite your lip.

No.

Yes.

"What are you doing?" It's a whisper, and you can hear how broken and sad your voice sounds. You want him, God you want him so badly, but not like this. You refuse to be used like this.

"What do you mean?" His voice is soft, and his hand is warm where it rests back against your neck. You feel the frustration bubble up inside you immediately.

“This!" You gesture wildly between you both. "What exactly is this?" He just stares at you dumbfounded. "Because Dean, I can't… I can’t just fuck you." He winces as the vulgarity tumbles from your mouth and if you weren’t so wound up you would find it so funny. He’s the one with the vocabulary problem, yet he winces every time a swear leaves your mouth. You surge on. "I can't do this with you, Dean. You're my best friend and you mean too much to me. You can't just sleep with me and then –"

You stop, swallowing hard and focus on his chest, unable to meet his eyes. He shifts in front of you, lifting your chin so he can see your face. "And then what?"

"And then… disappear." You finish. "I won’t be just another conquest to you."

His entire body goes eerily still, thumb halting its soothing motion against your neck. "Is that really what you think of me?"

You shrug and lock your eyes back onto the fabric of his vest. He pushes off you with a growl, pacing around in frustration as a hand swipes angrily down his face.

"Fucking hell Sweetheart, have you not been listening to a word I've said?"

Your eyes blink back up to see his brimming with anger, his arms out to the side as he raises both eyebrows expectantly. "I literally just told you I had feelings for you just seconds ago. And you still believe that I'm trying to engage in some casual fuck?"

"Oh, I’m sorry, you said that you were fighting for what you want and then lifted me onto a desk and spread my legs. What the hell am I supposed to think, you idiot?" You respond sarcastically, eyes narrowing on his.

His eyes flash, dark and dangerous. "You're supposed to believe me when I tell you things. You know that’s not easy for me."

"I do believe you, I just don’t want to be another notch in your bedpost." Your heart clenches at just the mere thought.

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"If the shoe fits."

You glare at each other in silence. After a moment or two, you see then the corners of his lips twitch and you feel yours do the same in response. You refuse to give in and grin at him though. All of a sudden he heaves a heavy sigh and his whole body seems to deflate. He looks at you carefully, eyes soft as his thumb resumes its gentle caress against your neck.

"Sweetheart, the only reason I slept with all those girls is because I have feelings for you." He looks at you so earnestly and you can tell in your heart he isn't lying. "I didn't think I had any sort of chance with you, and I was too weak to push you away, so I distracted myself with meaningless conquests. You are not a meaningless conquest."

He sighs again and takes hold of your hand. "In fact, if it makes you feel more secure about the whole thing, we don't have to do anything like that until-"

"Is it true?" You cut him off, not needing him to finish that sentence but needing to know this. You bite your lip and look up at him, fingers twisting with his. You feel a warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the way he was kissing you and everything to do with the way he's looking at you. "Do I really mean something to you?"

"Sweetheart." Those eyes of his hit a deeper shade of green and the warmth in your chest blossoms and expands. "You mean everything to me.”

"So, are you planning on asking my parents to formally court me?" You say it as casually as you can, when in reality you’ve been freaking out about it for the past week and a half. Since that night in your bedroom, your relationship has taken a deep dive into the romantic side, but you have kept it strictly between the two of you.

Everything was the same as it was before, best friends who spent every waking moment with each other, you just now made out furiously at any opportunity you got. Annoyingly, the castle was hardly ever vacant, meaning it was far less frequent than you preferred and had left you both getting creative. Dean had pulled you into a weaponry closet after your sword lessons, and when you surprised him during his solo shift in the kitchens, he laid you out on the table. You’d also had one particularly fun afternoon in the garden shrubbery. You really didn't see the need for the whole not doing anything like that. Dean was it for you and you know he feels the same about you.

He quirks an eyebrow at you from across the booth, eyes glancing at the people around you casually. He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.

"You really wish to have this conversation now? Here?" He motions around the busy tavern and you rolls your eyes before focusing intently back on him.

"Were you even planning on asking my parents?" Your voice is low and you watch him purse his lips as he picks at the wood of the table.

"Yeah. I am." He supplies. He peeks up at you and you can tell by his expression you’re not going to like what he says next. "But after your ball."

"After my ball? Why after my ball?" You ask, confused why that should matter.

He pauses and takes a sip of his drink, eyes firmly on yours. He shrugs. "I just figured you should be unattached for your ball."

He says unattached with a forced lightness but you can hear the hurt and his eyes are hard. Your face falls as understanding takes hold of you.

"You still think I'm going to come out of that ball completely head over heels in love with some nobleman?"

By the look on his face that's exactly what he thinks. His lips twist in a grimace and he takes another much larger sip of his drink. "They can give you much more than I can Sweetheart, and you know it."

You wish you weren't in this crowded bar because you want to kiss that sad look right off his face. You want to whisper in his ear just how amazing he is and that no one can compare to him. You also want to smack him for being so god-damned stupid.

You decide to use your words instead. "I just want you, Dean. Only you.”

The smile he gives you might be better than a kiss anyway.

Tags:

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x female reader #royal au #Dean Winchester x princess reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #Dean x you #spn fanfic #spnfanfic #spn fanfiction #princess reader #iprobablyshipit91 writes #words unsaid

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skymaiden32 · 9 months

Text

Mariana Trench

AO3 link here

Fandom: Stingray

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or write new stories)

The battle for Pacifica has begun...

Hi *waves in no update for eight months*

I have no words for how late this is honestly. Big life stuff happened, I went to ComicCon (which was a blast; I went as Marina and met some awesome new people >:3), exams came and went, and then I got hit by the combined forces of a whopper of writer's block and burnout from aforementioned exams.

I would say the update times will get better from here, but I'm heading into the last year of university and will get very busy from September. Fingers crossed though ^^

Anyway, on with the chapter! >:D

------

Phones examined the bars across the large windows carefully, humming worriedly as he did so. They were too narrow to squeeze between, so escaping that way was out of the question. The doors were locked and bolted from the outside. If they ever did get out, it wouldn’t be for a long time, and the Titanican attack on Pacifica may well be over. Phones groaned, jiggling the door handle in frustration in a last ditch hope it would come loose somehow. No luck…

He stole a glance over at Fisher, who was also looking for a way out. They caught each other’s eyes, and the younger aquanaut slumped his shoulders in defeat. It looked like they’d be here for quite some time.

------

“And you are certain they cannot escape?” X20’s screen showed his King and his immediate superior, standing side by side as the battle raged on behind them. From the looks of it, the Titanicans had their enemies on the run.

“Positive, Captain.” X20 confirmed. “I made sure of it. And even if they do get away, I removed anything from my personal files relevant to the plan…”

“I applaud you for your foresight… For once.” Titan hummed, muttering the last part under his breath. “Losing Lemoy as a base of operations is not ideal, but it is necessary.”

Trench nodded in agreement. “Well done, X20. Return to Titanica and await further instructions.” He looked back at the chaos behind him. “The battle is almost over from the looks of it, so your assistance will likely not be required.”

X20 saluted, and the video winked off. Titan turned to his second-in-command. “Return to the battlefield. I realise you might have…” the tyrant frowned, “hesitations about it, but the Princess is a force to be reckoned with. If we are to win, she must be taken care of.”

Trench couldn’t help the proud smile that spread across his face. Of course Marina was carving her path through the enemy. He’d seen her in action before. Pacificans were pacifists by nature, but the rivalry with Titanica had changed that, and their Princess had WASP training under her belt, in addition to the combat lessons Aphony had insisted she take after returning from her capture. She was a worthy opponent.

Of course he had doubts about fighting the mermaid. She had once been like a sister to him. But if his King were to get any further in his goal, it was necessary. “I will not fail, O’ Mighty One…”

“See that you don’t…” Titan turned his attention back to the window, overlooking the battle. The sea-green blur that was Princess Marina, cutting down Aquaphibian after Aquaphibian, taunted him. “You know better than anyone, I am not merciful to those who fail me.”

Trench saluted, turning on his heel, and headed into battle against his former allies.

------

“You got any paper and a pen?” Fisher asked, beyond bored. The aquanauts were sat at the small table, watching the sun set on the horizon. All they could really do was wait. The beauty of the sunset currently meant nothing. “I wanna write something…”

Phones gave him a look. “Really?”

Fisher shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“Good point.” Phones stood up. “Well, to answer your question, yes, I have a pen,” he took the item out his pocket, placing it on the table in front of Fisher, “I don’t have any paper, but I might be able to grab a blank page from a book over there…” He pointed towards the small bookshelf, getting up and walking over to grab a book, when a thought crossed his mind. “Wait a minute…” Fisher looked at him quizzically as he bent down to look through the keyhole of the door. Phones smirked when he realised he couldn’t see through the small hole. The key was still in there! X20 must’ve forgotten to take it out. “Of course!”

The younger Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Phones hushed him, getting more and more excited by the minute. “Never mind that, just gimme that pen back.” Fisher gave Phones a look, but did so anyway. The older man knelt down, judging the space under the door. Good. It was just big enough for this to work…

Grabbing a larger book, Phones tore a page out, slipping it under the door so it would be under the outside keyhole. He left a small slither of paper so he could pull it back towards him. Fisher’s eyes widened when he realised what his friend was up to.

Phones took apart the pen, grabbing ahold of the ink cartridge inside, and gently threaded it through the keyhole. Soon enough, a thud was heard on the other side of the door as the key fell. Fisher gave him a hopeful look. “Think it fell where we want it to?”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Phones knelt down, and gently pulled the piece of paper towards the aquanauts. The silver gleam of the key was their reward. Phones picked it up with a flourish, exchanging a smirk with Fisher. Next stop, Pacifica.

------

Marina twirled through the water with grace as she exchanged blows with her friend turned enemy. When Trench had first appeared on the battlefield, he had muttered out an apology to Marina, heard only by her. The Princess had shuddered at the robotic voice. It was hard to forget the way she’d heard Troy’s dulcet tones behind it, now she knew it was him wearing the mask. Silently, she had given orders to the soldiers under her command, both Pacifican and WASP alike, to keep away from them as they fought. They’d obeyed, making a move to guard the throne room, where her father was anxiously awaiting the conclusion of the battle, and the return of his only child.

Blades clashed, Marina giving Trench a pleading look. If any part of him was still Tempest, it would at least stir something in him. She wished she knew what was going on his head. She wished she could see the emotions on his face.

On the other side of the watertight mask, Troy was struggling to keep the tears at bay. He hadn’t expected it to be so hard to face Marina in combat. Physically, they were almost evenly matched, with him just outclassing her, but there was something in the Princess’s pleading gaze that gave him pause everytime he went in for what should be the final strike. She was part of the reason why he’d left WASP, wasn’t she? So, why was it so hard to fight her?

“Stingray!” The panicked exclamation from one of the Aquaphibians caught everyone’s attention. Every faction involved looked up as the silver super-sub sped towards the greater WASP fleet. Marina and her people on the field grinned as it lead an attack on the Aquaphibian ships. Their enemy looked on in fear, knowing instantly that they would lose the battle. The Princess was certain she could Titan growl from wherever he was watching.

“Captain Trench.” The King’s cold voice caught his attention. “Issue a full retreat. We’ll never win with Stingray on their side. I’ll discuss both your and X20’s failures once we are safe behind Titanican walls…”

The human nodded, even though he knew his superior wouldn’t see it, and shivered. “Yes, sire.” Making a subtle gesture toward the closest Aquaphibian, the order quickly spread, and soon, the invaders were on the run. As they watched them leave, the Pacificans silently cheered, embracing each other in celebration. Marina smiled gently as her gaze swept along her people, never prouder to call herself a Pacifican. She was taken aback when she was pulled into a tight hug, although her grin widened when she realised who it was, holding her father just as tight.

On board Stingray, Phones and Fisher sadly watched as their once friend retreated with the enemy, even as the sounds of their colleagues on the comms and the sight of the Pacificans celebrating flooded their senses. Fisher cleared his throat. “I forgot to ask…” Phones turned to look his friend in the eye, grateful for the distraction. “How’d you know how to get the key?”

Phones smiled sadly at Fisher. “Troy taught me.” Phones sighed as he remembered that day. They’d been so excited to work on the same crew. Where had it all gone wrong? “It was on our first mission together.”

Fisher took note of the older man’s downcast face. “We’ll get him back, Phones.”

Phones sighed, turning Stingray’s nose back in the direction of Marineville. “I hope you’re right…”

#stingray #stingray 1964 #stingray fanfiction #george lee 'phones' sheridan #lieutenant fisher #surface agent x20 #troy tempest #captain trench #marina of pacifica #sky writes stuff

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