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greypetrel · 10 months

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Iron Bull and I’m pretty sure you said Tolkien too?? If so, Elrond and Tommy Bombadilly —Koko

Hi Koko!

Somehow I knew you would have been asking Bull xP Just a sixth sense! And yes I said Tolkien to! :3

The Iron Bull:

First impression: I remember I was caught for the character design, the visible imperfections and how he's not canonically handsom... And yet he counts as he is. After the design, I was... A little taken aback by him admitting that oh yes he's a spy and he will spy on you. Like... What? Are you sure you want to tell me, man? xD Instant interest.

Impression now: I know he has flaws and that by all means he's the one person you shouldn't be trusting in all the games. But, he's the huge mom friend, which is also why he's so good at what he does if you ask me. I think he's the better liar because he will admit he's lying... And still will make you forget he is. But yeah, I haven't yet played with a character who wouldn't save the Chargers, and so he could go and live his best life free of being the biggest mother hen ever.

Favorite moment: He brought Dorian's handkerchief for him because he knows he would have forgotten. Big mother hen. No, also the way he just looks at Krem after his personal mission and just... "Never mind, you're doing fine". Basically, whenever he lets himself show he's a big big softie. Also him carrying Sera on his shoulders in battle, yelling "Mayhem!".

Idea for a story: As for Dorian, I'd love love love to write, sooner or later, some expansion of this ficlet and expand that dynamic. I'd also seriously love to read something about him and Krem learning to work together. Some Chargers origin story.

Unpopular opinion: Again, he's another character who doesn't betray you, in my opinion. Even if you sacrifice the Chargers, in Trespasser... He told you from the start he was a spy working for the Qun, right? He was always very open about him being Ben Hassrath, Gatt told you he was called "Liar". You know he lies. As much as you know that Varric lies. Bull's just better at making you forget but... Is it really a betrayal if you were told whose side he was really on from the start? If you were really told he never liked the Tal Vashoth as a concept, if you ask him about Seheron? Not a betrayal, you just forget he was never on your side, if you cut away the one reason he had to change his loyalties (yes I'm including if he's in a romance with either the Inquisitor or Dorian. I like his character so much because a romance is not enough to make him change his mind and become something he clearly say he hates. His men, the life he build for himself, relationships he grew in years are, and if you take that away... He may call you Kadan, you're still just one person and love is not enough on its own.)

Favorite relationship: Him and the Chargers, hands down. They were collectively his way to express himself and find himself and heal after the Horrors, and he's just... I don't know you can see he struggles to give back what he got and it's just so precious.

Favorite headcanon: Plus size, soft bellied Bull still lives rent free in my head. As above, Bull the mama hen taking care of the inner circle. I also still remember Bull the HR manager in Skyhold that @shivunin devised and I had to draw and... Yes.

Elrond:

First impression: I remember I was suspicious of him at first because I already saw the Matrix, and he was the villain, so at 9 I thought that he must have been evil there too. xD

Impression now: I have distinct opinions on book and movie Elrond. I love the first trilogy dearly, but amongst the choices they did I like less and less, the "Let's make Elrond a helicopter dad" is the one that leaves me MEH. But that's on me, the "star-crossed lovers" is a trope that I have extremely little patience for. Still the way he just looks at Aragorn in Minas Tirith, moved and in happy tears... Aaaaaw. I love him I LOVE HIM. and I love how he was written in Rings of Power, give me more Elrond content please, he has so much to give as a character, think of what he has seen!

Favorite moment: The patience and restraint he showed in not kicking Isildur in the volcano with a vengeance. Respect, bro, I would have tossed the jock right into cursing his name and calling him for the asshole that he is. And in Rings of Power, the heart-to-heart talks he has with Durin.

Idea for a story: More Elrond being the weird uncle for Durin and Disa's children. More Elrond dealin with three children on his own. More Elrond and Elros dealing with what the fuck happened to his parents Oh ok now mom is a seagull that's... fine.

Unpopular opinion: I like a lot how he was portrayed in Rings of Power. Yes included his haircut, let him have his Patrick Schwayze phase.

Favorite relationship: Him and Arwen and him and Durin.

Favorite headcanon: We all know he's a big softie when it comes to his children, right? And to children in general. I picture Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen doing shenanigans when they were little, and him... Just sighing and telling them to go to their room, totally unable to even go as far as grounding them. Arwen looked at him with those big blue eyes and he just... Couldn't do anything else.

Tom Bombadil:

First impression: Hey dol, Merry dol! / Ring a dong dillo 🎶 I think I wasn't really understanding what was going on, but I was 9 and I enjoyed the little shenanigan with this weird person who had a wife he loved and sung a catchy song. I didn't question him that much.

Impression now: Still as above, I like him being there, just to show the Hobbits that the world isn't all dark and evil, there is something good to fight for. LOTR is about hope and finding hope when everything around you is dark, and he just does that. If you just go with the flow and don't question him much, take him as just "a quirk", there are some lovely descriptions to be found and a lovely, lovely way to see nature. (which again, is such an important theme in Tolkien's work!)

Favorite moment: That fucking catchy song stays in my head for LONG. Right now I'm humming it. Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo! 🎶

Idea for a story: A meeting between him and the Ents. Which will be... 1000 pages of nothing at all. But come on. It'll be fun.

Unpopular opinion: As above, he's not evil incarnate and pointless in the story. He's a moment of breath with the purpose to remember that the world isn't all scary and that there is some mystery to behold, that doesn't require an explanation, that would make everything worse if he was explained.. There's good and there's light... And there's always something to look at in wonder in the world.

Favorite relationship: He and Goldberry are the ultimate couple.

Favorite headcanon: I think I read somewhere a theory according to whom he's really a Valar? I think he was Aule and Goldberry Yavanna in disguise? Well, Tom Bombadil a Valar is an headcanon I stan. I don't remember where I read it or if my brain made it up right now, but still. (... I could keep the idea for my fic tho. MMMMMH.)

#characters opinion meme #dragon age #lotr #the iron bull #elrond #tom bombadil #look at me defending Tom Bombadil on main

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avrablake · 1 year

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Get to know my character tag

Thanks for the tag @oh-no-another-idea I’ve seen this tag game as a get to know you game but never for OCs. I love it!

In honor of your Jax I’m going to do my Jax for this one. I’m also almost to the point where he comes into my wip so this will help me get to know him a bit more too.

Passing on an Open Tag for anyone who wants to do this.

Relationship status: in a long term relationship with himself, his muscles, the weight room. Single. He’s single and perfectly content with that.

Favorite color: green and gold

Favorite food: Since he's so into working out, you'd think he would be fairly conscious of his diet and nutrition. He's not. He likes to eat. He likes to eat a lot. He loves meat though and is apt to pass over the carbs (including vegetables) when filling his own plate.

Song stuck in their head:

Anyway stuff like this is way outside his normal listening preferences but totally the type of thing that would be stuck in his head all the time. It would bother him more if it didn’t annoy Keller so much.

Poor Jax. He's one of those people who gets songs stuck in his head without even knowing where he heard them. This is definitely way outside his normal listening preferences, but the type of song to live rent free in his head anyway. He doesn't really mind though since it annoys Keller so much. Sometimes he even sings it on purpose.

Last thing they googled: probably "is it true that" plus whatever made-up thing Keller tried to convince him is true. Jax isn't stupid, but he isn't what you would call "book smart". Keller likes to make stuff up and try to convince him it's true. After falling for it enough times he finally started looking stuff up afterward.

Last thing they read: Jax isn't much of a reader. He does enjoy conspiracy theory forums though. Not so much because he believes them but because he thinks they are hilarious, especially ones about the Military.

Last book they enjoyed reading: Jax doesn't usually read books and he's never enjoyed being made to read them. He would be more likely to enjoy something non-fiction and related to his interests than a novel, but he just doesn't enjoy reading. He might enjoy informative audiobooks. He'd love something like a true crime podcast or one about debunking conspiracy theories.

Favorite thing to cook/bake: Jax doesn't do either. He lives in the Military dormitories and eats in the cafeteria. When he's out on missions he eats pre-packaged rations. If he were ever to get into cooking though he'd definitely get into barbecuing.

Favorite thing to do in their free time: Work out, especially very intense cross fit or circuit training type workouts. Just going for a run or something he finds boring.

Most niche dislike: people who go to the gym to socialize. Jax is a social guy, but when he's working out he likes to be totally focused. People who try to chat with him, or even other people at the gym talking to each other annoy him.

Opinion on circuses: He's a positive, upbeat guy. He can have a good time pretty much anywhere. Whether we are talking about a really cool, acrobatic circus performance or a cheesy kiddy circus, Jax can probably find something amusing about it.

Do they have any sense of direction?: He's doesn't have a particularly great sense or direction or a particularly bad one. He doesn't get lost or turned around in places he is familiar with, but if he has to take an unexpected turn or take a route he isn't used to, he will most likely end up a little lost. He is the type to absolutely refuse to use a map, which doesn't help.

#tag game #my ocs #get to know my character #jax #Spotify

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ottercastle · 3 years

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-hands you the spider and jellyfish- Hello LGBT community

#herrah the beast #monomon the teacher #hollow knight #i just think they should hold hands and find friendship and eventually love in the shared tragedy they agreed to AND #basically women <3333 #they live in my mind rent free it's my mission to make so much content for them #i may have made a playlist if any fellow rare pair lovers wish for me to share 😳

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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main masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq

hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

#bun writes #bun writes: drabbles #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

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calltomuster · 3 years

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Star Wars Fic Recs Take 5

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list] [fourth fic rec list]

Hope you're having a lovely day, friends! Here, take some more fic recs to make it even better!

Infinite Sadness (what does your heart tell you?) by @the-last-kenobi (gen, one-shot, 12.5k words) This fic definitely lives up to its title, not just in what happens to Obi-Wan, but in the sheer, pervasive sadness and desperation and subtle despair that plagues him as he lives life after life over and over again, trying to make things better each time. But it's not a flashy despair, it's muted and ongoing and never over-the-top, and well, it's infinite sadness. I definitely think this fic is slept on, it's absolutely amazing and I highly encourage you to check it out.

How Qui-Gon Accidentally Adopted a Baby by @the-last-kenobi (gen, WIP, 18/? chapters, 26.6k words) Oh, did the first fic on this list make you sad? I have the perfect remedy: another fic by @the-last-kenobi! To say that this fic brings me immense joy is an understatement. This fic makes me smile when nothing else will. You get the premise from the title, and I'll admit it may look a little crack-fic-y based on that, but the sheer cuteness of this fic and the quality of the prose elevates it beyond anything else. I'm not even kidding, this fic makes me want to have kids, that's how adorable baby Obi-Wan is in this.

The When Duty Is Done series by thosenearandfarwars (Obi-Wan/Cody, incomplete, 14/? parts, 90k words) I recommended the first story in this series way back in my third fic rec list, and it's only gotten better since then. I really like this series because it imagines -- well, I don't want to just say an ideal post-ROTS universe, because that implies that things are just magically all better, but I think it's a realistic ideal post-ROTS universe. The Jedi Order reforms itself, the clones get reparations and the ability to govern themselves, Anakin doesn't join Palpatine, etc. Through it all is an absolutely wonderful story about two people and their love for each other. It's just lovely.

Fire to ash, present to past (who knows for tomorrow?) by blueberrywizard (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 11.6k words) One day, Qui-Gon's apprentice completely changes. Or at least, that's how it seems to Qui-Gon, who has no idea that his Padawan is actually now a much older version trapped in this young body. This fic is told from many different points of view and I really like the prose. Definitely one that sticks with you.

|nothing quite like this| by littlekaracan (gen, one-shot, 6.6k words) Don't read this unless you want to feel like your heart has been ripped to pieces. This fic is a piece of experimental fiction, framed as a class reading for Jedi students in the future who are learning about the Purge. It's just devastating, truly devastating. Even though it features no characters we'd be familiar with, you just get so drawn into the world of this Purge survivor, and hearing their experiences is brutal.

In The Afterman, Solitude by kanerallels (gen, one-shot, 2.2k words, Obi-Wan & Quinlan) Obi-Wan is in a cantina on Tatooine after ROTS and runs into Quinlan Vos. What follows reminds him that he's not alone in the galaxy, not like he thought he was. I really like the progression of this fic, how real it seems to the characters. Obi-Wan doesn't just immediately blurt out what happened, and Quinlan is much more subtle than he usually is in fic. I really enjoyed this one.

Ghost Company by existentialAF (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 2.2k words) Cody's chip gets removed and he makes it his mission to find Obi-Wan and help him in the way he couldn't when Order 66 went down. A fascinating and touching AU of what could have happened post-ROTS if things had gone a little differently. I'd absolutely love to see more in this 'verse but it is a one-shot so I'll be content with what we're given!

The Morning Star series by Kurenaino (4 parts, 1.7 million words, incomplete) I first read this series back in November of 2020 and it has lived in my head rent free ever since then. I'm not kidding, I have to limit myself to only rereading this every couple of months so that it doesn't become too much of a good thing -- and make no mistake, I do reread it every few months, all 1.7 million words of it. To make what is clearly a very long story short, this series charts Obi-Wan's fall to the Dark side post-Naboo and follows him throughout the entire Star Wars saga (TPM, AOTC, Clone Wars, ROTS, Rebels, etc.) I feel like that description doesn't do it justice, though. The sheer breadth of this series takes my breath away. It feels expansive in a way that no fic I've ever read before has, oscillating from large-scale politics to heart-pounding action to sweet and tender love, both romantic and familial. (Oh, and this might be obvious from the whole "Sith Obi-Wan" thing, but just a warning that in these stories, Obi-Wan does some absolutely despicable things, just because he can. Murder, rape, mind control, etc, so take care.) But though he's Sith, he's still got such a heart in him, just like the Obi-Wan we know and love, and you can't help but feel for him at times. And this might not be as much a selling point for you as it was for me, but this series has some absolutely fantastic Thrawn content. He's going toe-to-toe with Obi-Wan and it's glorious, a true match. I'm in the middle of my latest reread of this series, and truly it just makes me so happy. I never see anyone talking about this series and I'm sad it doesn't get the attention it deserves. It really only gets better and better the further into the series you get. Cannot recommend enough!!

There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge by @sirikenobi12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words) A wonderful installment for Jedi June! This fic follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and then Obi-Wan and Anakin and Ahsoka, as they teach and learn lessons on what knowledge means to them. It was an unexpected tearjerker for me, there's one scene in particular that makes me tremble just thinking about it. I just love the way each relationship is portrayed here, and the care that is put into every word. Amazing!

Keeper of the Force by @pandora15 (gen, WIP, 19/20 chapters, 84.4k words) I can't believe I haven't put this on a rec list before, but since there's only the epilogue left, now is the perfect time. This fic starts out small-scale Obi-Wan whump (not saying that in a derogatory way, that's my exact favorite thing) and grows in size as it goes to eventually become a ROTS AU that is oh so good. It's touching, and inspiring, and lovely, and every time a new chapter posts I drop everything to read it. Can't believe the end of this ride is almost upon us!!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

#i need to start writing these as i read the fics and not all in one sitting because my brain gets absolutely fried every time lol #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #anakin skywalker #commander cody #quinlan vos #jedi order #ahsoka tano #satine kryze

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

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Clandestine: Chapter Thirteen

Fitting that this is chapter thirteen. It was destined to be unlucky. And it was also the hardest one to write by far. Thanks for being so patient with me. One last cliffhanger, yes? For old time’s sake.

@lumosinlove your characters continue to live in my head rent-free, so thank you!

@donttouchmycarrots is my dude, my pal, my babe, and the best proofreader ever

Special thanks to @wonder-womans-ex for providing what just might be my favorite line in this chapter

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: violence, gun violence, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of food, injuries

Logan woke up to Finn crying.

He was admittedly good at being quiet about it – he muffled any noise into his pillow, body turned towards the wall and curled up tight. It was the shaking that gave him away. Logan wasn’t sure what was going on at first, but his heart just about shattered when he realized. He rolled over to face Finn, pulling him gently into his arms and holding him close. His heart lurched as the redhead shuddered and buried his face in Logan’s chest, arms wrapping around him tightly as he sniffled. Logan screwed his eyes shut and breathed, nice and slow in an attempt to get Finn to match him. He wasn’t sure what was upsetting his partner, but he wanted nothing more than to fix it, to help however he could. Finn leaned further into him and stayed there for what felt like an eternity before he calmed down, breaths slowing and tears drying.

Logan could feel every swell of muscle, every gentle dip between his ribs, the eyelashes that were still wet and clumped together, the way his skin felt all clammy. He wished he could pull him even closer, hold him even tighter, even though there was physically no distance between them. Maybe Finn could find comfort in the confines of his arms, the way Logan had found safety in Finn’s.

“Want to talk about it?” he finally whispered, making Finn tense up again. He peered over Logan’s shoulder to look at their sleeping partner, then looked back down at Logan.

Sometimes Finn just took his breath away. Sure, his eyes were glassy and his nose was red from crying but he was still so beautiful, with muted light filtering through the curtains turning messy auburn hair into shiny copper, seeming to glitter in the sunlight. Big, brown doe eyes looking so incredibly soft as he stared down at Logan. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being looked at like that. Like he was something to be cherished, something to be adored.

Logan felt his breath hitch.

“Hallway?” Finn asked, glancing back at Leo. “Don’t want to wake him up.”

Logan smiled. He loved learning how all three of them showed love and how it varied depending on which partner they were interacting with. Finn was more teasing with Logan, always throwing jabs and chasing them with happy grins and lots of kisses. With Leo he – well, he still teased mercilessly, but it was softer around the edges. The kind of affection that made him get all squinty-eyed because he was smiling so much and too-tight hugs because he couldn’t possibly hold back. Leo didn’t act that different when it came down to it, but he picked up quickly on what the two of them liked – intertwining his fingers with Finn’s as often as he could, running his hand through Logan’s hair time and time again. The constant motion of his hands was directed at the two of them instead of the lock in his pocket more often than not, a new soothing habit forming quickly. It was adorable. Logan wasn’t really sure how he was different, but he knew he was softer with the two of them more than he’d been with anyone else. He could feel himself turning into a sappy romantic and he wanted to hate it, but he really couldn’t.

Finn scrambled up reluctantly and Logan followed him across the room, nervous and itching to pull Finn back into his arms. He reached for Finn as soon as the door closed completely. “Bad dream?” His stomach dropped when Finn just nodded, biting down on his lip hard as his eyes welled up with tears again.

“I don’t want to go back there.” Finn admitted, voice a soft whisper in the silence of the hallway. Logan sighed and pressed closer, standing on his tiptoes just a little to loop his arms around Finn’s neck. Logan didn’t want to go back, either, but it was different for Finn. He’d been there for longer, after all, and Logan still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened during that time. Finn refused to talk about it, and Logan was too afraid to ask, as selfish as that made him feel. To top it all off, Logan had no idea how to help. Usually bad dreams were only loosely based on reality – but Logan had a feeling these were a little too real. They’d lived it, after all. To wake up from a nightmare and realize it was basically reality…

How could you comfort someone who’s bad dreams were all true?

“I know,” he said simply, lacking the words for anything else and running his fingers through Finn’s messy bedhead soothingly.

“We won’t be there for too long.” Finn said after a while. He seemed to be trying to comfort Logan with the words, even though he was the one who had been crying about it earlier. Logan ached for the redhead. He had such a big heart, always putting others before himself even if he was in a bad place himself. Logan needed to pay more attention, to pinpoint that evasion tactic and not let him get away with it. Everyone needed solace, even the ones who primarily did the comforting.

Finn’s eyes had closed sometime earlier, his head tilted to lean into Logan’s hand, his breath tickling the inside of Logan’s wrist. Logan wiped away a stray tear tenderly and sighed. Finn didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Logan wasn’t going to force him to talk, but he was worried about what would happen if he didn’t talk about it with someone. Sometimes it was nice to talk to someone with an outside perspective – someone who wasn’t in the thick of it like Logan was. So Logan reluctantly let it go for now and tried the next best thing: cheering Finn up.

“And it’ll be nice to bash some heads in while we’re there.”

That earned a laugh from Finn, and Logan felt such stark relief at the sight – it left him a little breathless. It was sad that a genuine laugh from either of his partners was so rare now. Logan felt like he needed to cherish them when they happened.

How depressing was that?

“Bashing some heads in is now on the list, I guess.” Finn murmured, placing a lingering kiss to Logan’s temple, who hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you even know how to throw a punch?”

Finn was in the process of kissing Logan when he said that, which just turned into a laugh against Logan’s lips. “No, but you do.” Logan could hear the smile in his voice. “And that’s way hotter than it probably should be.”

Logan looked up at him nervously to make sure he wasn’t kidding, then relaxed at the honesty in those mischievous eyes. Even upset and stressed, Finn somehow knew what to say to soothe worries Logan hadn’t even told him about. Being in a job like his… well it was ugly. It was brutal and violent and messy and not many people would want to be involved with someone like that – someone with bloodstained hands, too many paranoid tics, and a heavy, guilty conscience.

Finn and Leo didn’t seem to mind all that much, thankfully.

The realization made Logan grin sharply and nip at Finn’s lower lip before delving into another deep, intoxicating kiss. It was too easy, getting lost when he kissed Finn. So much of their surroundings faded away until all he was aware of was the feel of slightly chapped lips against his and hands holding his hips in order to pull him closer. Finn seemed to have that effect on Logan – he always had, ever since that New Years party. He was the kind of person everyone naturally gravitated towards, pulled in without a second thought. It was part of what made him so damn good at his job.

Finn breathed in sharply before kissing him again, heady and sure of himself and making Logan weak in the knees. All five senses were overwhelmed with Finn, Finn, Finn. It thrummed along with his pulse in a steady, loud rhythm. And yet his mind still drifted back to the bedroom with Leo, the thought of joining him back in bed tugging at him just as Finn broke the kiss and pulled him back towards the door, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Sometimes I’m convinced you’re a mind reader.” Logan smiled and willingly let himself get drawn back into the quiet, sleepy warmth of the bedroom. Finn just shrugged.

“Maybe I am.”

Leo was still sound asleep, sprawled out on his back with one leg sticking out from underneath the covers and hanging off the side of the bed at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. Logan smiled at Finn’s affectionate snort, then followed him back to bed and crawled in the middle again. He curled up on his side, facing the blond as Finn pressed against his back and tangled their legs together. Leo’s hand moved up the bed, searching for Logan’s until he found it and then seemed to drift off to sleep again with a content sigh.

It scared Logan a little, how important the two of them had become in such a short amount of time. They were slowly invading more and more space in his head until his only thoughts seemed to be about them, all the time. Maybe it should be a little worrying, but Logan couldn’t find it in himself to be too concerned – not when the thoughts made his chest feel light as air and his stomach full of butterflies.

***

It was getting close to go-time, and everyone was on edge. The energy was palpable, like an electric current flowing through the group. Shoulders were tense, words were short and clipped, a sense of focus and determination in the air.

Leo had never been part of something like this. The only missions he’d been on were with Logan and Finn and that was it. Having a big group like this, all feeling the same things and wanting the same goal, it was intoxicating. It sucked you in and made you want to be a part of it, too.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck here, on the sidelines, left to wait aimlessly until everyone returned. That meant letting them go and resigning himself to a night of restlessness and worry.

Leo hated it.

He didn’t cling to his partners like he so desperately wanted to. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go again. He didn’t ask for empty promises of being careful, nor did he beg them to be safe. He couldn’t hold them to words they might not be able to keep. But he allowed himself to stare, just a bit. He let his eyes linger over Logan’s steady hands as he loaded his gun and methodically checked it three times, just like always. He watched Finn pull a clean shirt over his head and fiddle with the sleeves, seemingly lost in thought. Leo memorized what he could, just in case. The exact shade of Logan’s eyes, the freckle pattern across Finn’s cheeks and nose. He hated that his brain automatically jumped to worse-case scenario like that, but – well, considering the circumstances and what they’d already been through at the hands of the Snakes… could you blame him?

There was also this feeling in the pit of Leo’s stomach. He wasn’t sure if this was just the anxiety talking, but everything in that moment felt so decided, so final.

It felt like goodbye.

As if Finn knew exactly what was going on in his head, he drew Leo in for a hug and kissed his cheek, lingering for a second before leaning back to meet his eyes. They shared one of those looks – one that expressed a multitude of emotions without saying a single word. When Finn kissed him, it was deep and achingly slow. He was taking his time, wanting to make the moment last as long as he could. Leo knew the feeling. He fisted his hand in Finn’s shirt and pulled him impossibly closer, tilting his head for a better angle and softly running his tongue across the seam of his lips. A gentle rush, a quiet thrill, but still with a noticeable, tangible melancholy.

Leo could still count the number of kisses they’d shared on two hands. That wasn’t nearly enough for him. He wanted as many different types of kisses as he could think of – happy, teasing, soft, hard, tender, and everything in between. He wanted to lose count by the end of the week. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about his partners.

He just hoped they’d get that chance.

Logan pressed up against the two of them, slotting seamlessly into place. Transitioning from kissing Finn to kissing Logan was as easy as breathing – a simple turn of his head and a slight bend to accommodate for the height difference. It was the kind of kiss you were meant to remember. A whirlwind of sweet and passionate, deep and gentle, loving and regretful.

More than anything it just hurt.

Leo’s gut churned as he pulled back and looked at the two of them, lost for words. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this, after all? He didn’t think there was anything he could say to make this easier, or reassure them. Words didn’t seem like enough anymore – they just felt insincere and meaningless. Leo didn’t think he’d ever faced that problem before. Words usually came fairly easily to him, especially if something was important to him. But now they were failing him and it left him feeling even more lost, adrift in a raging sea that he had no idea how to navigate.

“Let’s do this,” Finn said finally, part resigned and part determined, before heading towards the bedroom door.

The rest seemed to happen all at once in a blinding flurry of activity. Goodbyes with the team were quick and rushed and then they were all loading up into cars, green and brown eyes meeting his every once in a while before the doors closed and the engines growled to life.

Leo watched the caravan of cars head down the driveway, then rushed across the wrap-around porch to keep them in his sights for as long as he could until they disappeared behind an outcropping of trees. He kept his eyes trained on the spot and clung to the wooden railing with a white-knuckled grip.

And that was where he would stay. If that was the last place he saw them, it would be the first place he would see them again. He didn’t care if he stood there all night until it bled into morning; he wasn’t moving an inch.

***

Sirius sat in the backseat next to Remus for the drive, which was silent and tense with rising adrenaline and battle plans running through everyone’s heads – especially Remus’. He could practically see his mind working. He’d been planning nonstop for the past two days to make sure that all the loose ends were tied up and that they were doing this the right way. Any illegal processes now could compromise the court trials that would come after putting the Snakes behind bars. Between that and coordinating between the other agencies that were helping them take down the Snakes, it was looking like a Herculean task. They could’ve pulled out the big guns and requested help from the FBI, but no one really wanted to do that. This was personal, after all – for pretty much everyone on the team. The feds could take over later, after everyone was apprehended.

Remus chewed at his lower lip, eyes trained on nothing in particular. The back of his head was highlighted in the headlights of the car behind them, illuminating in a startling contrast to the rest of the dark interior of the van. Sirius stared and stared until he just couldn’t help it. He reached over to turn Remus’ head towards him, then ran his thumb lightly over that abused lower lip until Remus let it go. Color seeped back into it, turning the pink a darker, cherry red. Again, Sirius stared. That mouth quirked into a teasing smile.

“You’re going to chew a hole in your lip if you keep that up.” He said and looked up into honey-colored eyes, slowly pulling his hand back. Remus just huffed under his breath – a short, nervous shadow of his normal laugh.

“Yeah. I could really go for some chapstick right now.”

Sirius smiled, pulling Remus towards him and kissing him gently, reverently. It still kind of blew his mind, how much things had changed in the past few months. Remus used to hate him. Well, maybe hate was a strong word, but they definitely weren’t friends. And now here they were, making out in the back of a van. Even though their mission was coming to an end and Sirius really wouldn’t have a reason to stay in Gryffindor any more, he could no longer fathom leaving. Remus played a huge part in that, of course, but Sirius also had friends now – real friends who didn’t try to use him constantly or only contacted him when they needed something. He had a home, as ridiculously cliché as that sounded. Nothing about Slytherin felt like this, and it made Sirius wonder if he’d ever actually had a place to call home before he found himself in Remus’ tiny apartment with the dying houseplant and the lumpy couch and an entire cabinet devoted solely to mugs.

The kiss turned softer until Sirius pulled back and just looked at him, an overwhelming rush of emotion in his chest. Remus wasn’t his home – one person couldn’t be all of that, Sirius knew that much – but he sure was a big part of it.

Remus licked his lips thoughtfully, tasting Sirius’ chapstick. “What flavor is that?”

“Pina colada.”

“Nice.”

That made Sirius smile again. “It’s going to be fine, Re.” Sirius reassured and tucked Remus against his side. It was an awkward squeeze in the back of a van, but neither of them cared.

“Yeah,” Remus sighed, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “We’ll be ok.”

They both flew out of their seats a little when the van hit a pothole, smushing them closer together. Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple, soft and lingering, before speaking up again. “Do you want to talk through the plan once more?”

Sirius always found that talking through things helped calm him down. Saying the facts out loud tended to get rid of the unnecessary fears going on inside his head, plus it made him feel more prepared. And he knew Remus was the same way, from all the times he’d helped the analyst plan missions.

This earned him a soft, thankful smile and then Remus was off, talking a mile a minute about strategies and backup plans and anything else he could think of. Sirius let his voice wash over him and tried to ignore the dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

***

Leo didn’t know how long he stood there, gaze never once wavering from the treeline, when Hope joined him. She held out a mug for him, full of what looked like hot chocolate and a thick layer of whipped cream. Leo smiled faintly in thanks and took it before returning to his vigil. It was so quiet outside. No crickets like back home, no wind whistling through the trees, nothing. It set Leo on edge.

“So,” Hope mercifully interrupted the silence, “I heard you like to cook.”

Leo looked over at her, more than a little confused at the non sequitur. “Yeah. I do.”

She traced along the grain of the wooden railing, avoiding the chipping paint. “Those boys might be hungry when they get back, and that’s a whole lot of cooking to do by myself. Care to lend a hand?”

Leo snorted at the accidental pun and looked down at the hand trapped in a sling. He knew what she was doing, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. He could definitely use the distraction.

“That sounds perfect.” He said and followed her inside, only casting one glance over his shoulder at where the driveway disappeared and the woods began before he joined Hope in the warm glow of the kitchen. Lyall and Jules were there too; they had the refrigerator door thrown open and seemed to just be staring at the contents. They looked so alike, standing side by side like that. The same slightly-bowed legs and identical shades of brown hair. Lyall gave his son a mischievous look, reached for the can of whipped cream, and squirted some directly into his mouth while Jules watched on with his jaw nearly on the floor.

“I didn’t know we were allowed to do that!” he gasped and snatched the can from his dad. A few seconds later there was whipped cream in his mouth. And on his chin, cheeks, a little on his nose…

Hope sighed good-naturedly. “You’re teaching our son bad habits and making a mess.”

Lyall just bent over laughing, a snort escaping every once in a while.

Leo smiled as Jules tried to get all the whipped cream that missed his intended target with his tongue, eyes crossing in the process. He took a sip of his hot chocolate and leaned back against the kitchen counter as Lyall kept pointing to places on his face that Jules had missed. Hope shared a look with Leo and rolled her eyes in a “what can you do?” kind of gesture. It was all so lighthearted and affectionate and exactly what Leo needed in that moment.

He wondered if Hope somehow just knew these things – it was definitely possible. Mother’s intuition and all.

“So what are we making?” She asked, tying her hair up while Lyall threw an apron over his neck. Jules was still working on the whipped cream.

Leo shrugged his good shoulder. “What do you have in the pantry?”

“So much!” Jules exclaimed, deeming his face good enough and throwing the pantry door open. “We’ve got pancake mix, potato chips, poptarts, hot dog buns-”

***

The take-down mission was going about as well as expected.

Which meant that it was going well, but it was also a chaotic disaster at the same time. Fitting, right?

Agents were everywhere, it seemed, outnumbering the Snakes at least three-to-one. The Snakes were scattering, running for the exits and fighting tooth and nail to get out – whether that was with weapons they had or just their fists, they weren’t going down without a fight. But even if they made it out, they were met with another line of defense waiting for them in the form of the Durmstrang agents.

Remus really had the op planned out to the last contingency, it seemed.

Logan and Finn were headed down an unfamiliar hallway, looking for stragglers to round up and escort outside. Most Snakes had joined the main fight to get out, sequestered in the entryway. Logan was glad they were tasked with this, though. There were too many familiar faces back there – Greyback, Lestrange, Snape. Logan wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that just yet. Between that and the sound of gunshots echoing in his head… well, let’s just say it brought back bad memories. And even though it wasn’t the best utilization of his skillset, he hadn’t been separated from his partner. He’d learned from experience what a bad idea that was. When this was all over, he wasn’t letting the two of them out of his sight for at least a week.

God, he couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Movement caught his eye and his gun was instantly up and aimed at the person. Yellow eyes landed on them and Logan held his breath, every muscle tensing and adrenaline spiking.

Logan knew they had direct orders to bring the Snakes in alive, but it was much harder to think about that when he was staring Riddle down from the sights of his gun. He knew exactly where to aim – he’d seen it mapped out on Leo’s chest, memorized the angry red wound contrasting against the gentle slope of his collarbone. A shot not intended to kill, but to inflict unfathomable levels of pain – another thing Logan had branded into his memory. A shot that was intentional, designed to send a message. And Logan definitely wanted to send back a reply.

Riddle recognized them and got this smug gleam in his eyes. “Long time, no see.”

Logan’s finger twitched against the trigger.

“Trust me, we’re planning on never seeing you again.” Finn said, then sighed dramatically. “And it looks like that dream is going to become a reality, since we’ve got all the evidence we need to lock you up for – what do you think, Logan? Two life sentences?”

“I’m banking on three.”

“But it’s not really up to us, now is it?” Finn shrugged. “If it were, I think you’d be dead by now, so I guess we’ll have to wait and see what the judge says.”

Riddle still looked remarkably calm. And it was that ego, that sense of infallibility that ended up being his downfall. “All the evidence you have is circumstantial. Any decent lawyer can get those charges dismissed.”

“Sure.” Finn’s smile turned lethal, knowing he had Riddle right where he wanted him, ready to deliver the final blow and relish in the aftermath. “But I think all that detailed information on the flash drives can put you away for a long time. Why seven flash drives, by the way? Lucky number?”

Riddle’s smile faded in increments as the realization struck. “That’s not possible.”

“Oh, it’s very possible. You can thank the guy you shot for that.” Finn said darkly. They watched the gears turning in Riddle’s head, then the way his face turned from pale to a sickly green. His hand went to the inside pocket of his jacket where his flash drive used to be – where the fake one now was, switched when Riddle had pulled a bleeding, agonized Leo close to taunt Logan and Finn through his microphone.

Yeah. Karma was a real bitch sometimes.

Logan smiled, grim but glad to finally be putting this guy behind bars. “You’re coming with us.”

***

“Yo,” Pots said into a phone, a grin almost too wide on his face, “we got some stinky bastards over here. Can you come get them please and thank you?”

Remus snorted at his antics, no doubt talking to the FBI since processing criminals was in their jurisdiction now and not Gryffindor’s. He almost wished it was on speaker phone – he would’ve loved to hear their response.

Remus found Sirius waiting in the parking lot, watching all the Snakes get corralled into transport vehicles and taken to whichever prison they were being kept in until the trial. Some of their own agents were by the ambulance getting tended to, but there weren’t any serious injuries, thank god. Talker took a superficial gunshot to the thigh and Kuny’s arm got grazed by a bullet but everyone else was fine. The element of surprise and the backup by the other agencies really did wonders. That and the fact that they were all armed to the teeth and not even thinking about leaving this job unfinished. They had a pretty good reason to win this round, after all.

He couldn’t believe it was all over. This mission had taken months and lead to way too many problems, but they were finally done with it. They could finally move on. Remus was thinking of taking the next week off of work and spending it at the cabin, just him and Sirius. A much-needed vacation sounded like a dream right about now.

Sirius’ back was to him, but he heard Remus coming and didn’t flinch when long arms wrapped around him, tight and secure. He leaned back into the familiar warmth behind him and let himself be held. He’d been great in there. Remus had been a little worried about letting him come, afraid that taking down people he’d worked with for years would be too hard for him or – even worse – that his presence would be a bright red bullseye for the Snakes. Luckily, there had been so many other agents and so much chaos that most of them had only noticed Sirius and Regulus in the aftermath, when it was too late to do anything about it.

“We did it.” Remus murmured, letting go and stepping around to gauge Sirius’ reaction. The raven-haired ex-Snake smiled at him, a hint of something warring with the relief on his face.

“We did.” He finally said, eyes flitting from Remus to the action around them. He still looked a little uneasy, after everything. Remus couldn’t blame him – sometimes it took a while for the adrenaline to wear off and for reality to set in. “Doesn’t feel real just yet.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, letting the victorious feeling wash over him. “It’s real.”

“Sirius Black?” One of the other agents inquired, causing the man in question to turn around.

“Yes?”

The agent pulled out a pair of handcuffs, looking very bored of the current situation. “You’re under arrest for the crimes you committed with the Snakes organization. If you could put your hands behind your back-”

Remus stepped forward aggressively, staring the agent down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The agent didn’t flinch. “Following orders. Even if he quit the Snakes, he’s still got to answer for what he did during his time there.”

“But he’s helping us – he’s a consultant for our agency. He’s got immunity.” Remus looked between Sirius and the agent, running a hand agitatedly through his hair at the blasé attitude of the agent.

“Take it up with my boss.”

It was all happening so fast. Remus was still reeling from the mission, his brain struggling to keep up with the new situation. The agent started to lead Sirius away when Remus shouted, “Wait!” He hurried to stand in front of Sirius, caramel eyes hard and fierce and determined with an underlying blaze to them as they met silver. He didn’t care if he was making a scene; he didn’t care who was watching. The only thing that mattered was the man standing in front of him, eyes resigned and – unsurprised.

He knew this might happen. And he hadn’t said a word about it. He came on this mission willingly, knowing this was the way it could end.

Remus would have to come back to that.

“I’m going to fix this. Ok?” Remus met his gaze firmly, letting the honesty drip from his words.

The ex-Snake nodded quickly, trustingly. The sight was a little nauseating, because what if there was nothing Remus could do? Sirius was counting on him now; he couldn’t stand the thought of letting him down, not when he was looking at Remus like that – like Remus could fix anything, when Remus knew damn well that he couldn’t. His chest seized up and he held his breath, gritting his teeth resolutely. He’d find a way. He had to.

Sirius was loaded into the back of a car, his brother already cuffed and waiting in the seat beside him – no doubt being charged for the same thing. Their faces were stony masks, tense and unreadable.

From the next car over, Riddle watched with a smile.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: violence #cw: gun violence #cw: nightmares #cw: anxiety #cw: food #cw: injury

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wistfulrat · 3 years

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this week’s fics! feat. bakeries, bookshops, bisexual awakenings of the angsty and fluffy sort, wolfstar goddads being tender as hell, desi harry reconnecting with his culture, domestic drarry, a lap dance set to akon’s smack that, and more!

But That’s History by @ebbet - 54k - T Harry Potter starts his first year as Muggle Studies Professor only to find that Draco Malfoy has been hired to teach History of Magic.

listen to me. this is one of the funniest drarry fics i've ever read. i was cackling in my bed at 2am because harry’s internal monologues throughout this fic are unhinged. insanely quotable. “what was he, a lothario” and “you were crushing me with your muscular thighs!” are lines that live rent free in my empty head. harry has never played anything cool a day in his life. there’s a faculty meeting where the teachers are planning the yule ball and debating the merits of a DJ when harry decides he must defend his muggle-music-loving honor by dancing seductively to akon’s smack that while a blushing draco loses his mind. i fucking screamed. and the best part is that in between the comedic scenes threading the overall story, you have extremely tender moments of like, padma patil helping harry become a more rooted desi by sharing their cultural traditions, harry proudly donning his sherwani. draco wrestling with his past, going to harry’s lgbtq+ club for students, being sheepish with ron and hermione. ugh, comedic writers with emotional depth are clever and talented as hell!!

Realities, Unfurling by @ebbet - 45k - M Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

incredible collage-fic told from multiple povs. 8yrs post-war and everything’s changed. the current state of the magical world unfolds via slice-of-life snapshots from a truly stunning cast. non-binary harry whom is running a non-prof org dedicated to building tolerance and establishing equality for marginalized identities. post-prison-release draco whose life will be changed by the internet. neville’s tender relationship with blaise. andromeda’s fiercely protective mothering. remus and sirius being alive and very hot and just, the tender goddads harry deserved. cho chang being brilliant. baker pansy’s softened edges. found families abound. harry being flustered by their crush on draco and making personalized playlists on an iPod nano.

that all might sound narratively cluttered but the author more than pulls this off. glorious, start to finish.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (an @hd-erised fic) - 83k - E This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

cinematic. a love letter to oregon’s expansive landscapes and lively cities. it’s harry finding home in unexpected places and people. in the vast silence of rolling fields, endless coasts, and starry night skies big enough to feel like you’re adrift in space. and it’s also the lingering, intimate quiet of early mornings in a bakery, sitting on a park bench overlooking the city as you eat ice cream next to your crush. it’s harry watching ginny and luna dance and work around each other like bees. it’s the slow unfolding of harry and draco’s relationship as they fill each other’s quiet. finishing this fic is like waking from a good dream. transporting, immersive, lovely.

Harry Potter and the Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft - 20k - E Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

first of all, i feel very seen by draco being a gay-who-can’t-drive. it’s called representation. but mostly i love the ease of harry and draco’s banter, a flustered harry discovering his sexuality, and the way this fic addresses biphobia. also very emo over this exchange: “I think I might be scared of you, but probably not for the reasons you think.” “Yes.” Draco stares at Harry. “I think I might be scared of you too.”

Forged through flowing water by @tedahfromtayla (an @hd-erised fic) - 40k - E When Hermione sets up a diplomatic mission to begin repairing the damage British colonisation did to Indian magical communities Harry isn’t going to pass on the opportunity to visit and help his family’s home country. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions about the personnel she had recruited for it before signing on because Malfoy surely has an ulterior motive to be there.

so much to love about this fic. the beautiful settings, from kolkata to mumbai, to the holi festival and colorful lively streets, to remote cave settlements and old intricate temples. it’s harry in the homeland, reconnecting to his family’s heritage and confronting the weight of imperialism in his history. it’s nipping the white savior complex in the bud. this part: That is what England left behind. That is what it still stands for, despite whatever mask of respectability and honour it presents. . .You don't get to step aside and let someone else deal with the mess. You have to listen and learn and then act, Malfoy, you need to learn how to fix your own mess. This is why we're here. my indigenous ass cheered. HP certainly sells the british fantasy but HP fanfic?? fuck jkr, fuck the crown. i love that this fic doesn’t romanticize england’s history. i love that we get to see the vast resilience and beauty of post-colonial india.

Purity Control by yrfrndfrnkly - 28k - T In which Harry tries to ignore his trauma with fantasy Quidditch but Malfoy's Thereness™ is distracting and all his classmates want to talk about are unicorns, virginity, and Muggle music.

tender 8th year fics where they go from bristly as fuck to understanding and soft 100% guaranteed to make me emo as hell. all the teens have traumas and no one wants to talk about it but eventually Things are Talked About. it’s good of the adults to finally notice. everyone just wants someone to hold their hand. and this part: “You’re the only person around here who’s a bigger mess than I am.” “I thought maybe we could be a mess together,” pls don’t look at me as i weep over their gentle empathy.

Advent, a comic by dustmouth - WIP - T It's Harry and Draco's first Christmas together and Draco is determined to live his full yuletide fantasy, come hell or high water.

dustmouth, patron saint of whimsical drarry. whose illustrations singlehandedly reinvented wizarding fashion. whose cheeky and tender comics are like a soothing balm to the utter depravity of this carnal world. harry and draco being domestic, draco’s xmas spirit brand being “traditional unhinged”!! extremely my shit. we’ll absolutely be reading this all december.

Little Spaces by @dracoladon and @lazywonderlvnd - WIP - E Draco's back from France and working on the spell damage ward at St Mungo's with Hermione, who invites him over for dinner. Without telling Harry. This is a roleplay, which means Harry is written by one author (lazywonderland) and Draco by another (dracoladon).

the switch in distinct character voices works so well for this fic!! tonally i feel like i'm watching an episode of the office. i personally love harry and draco being Pissed Off at how much they want to bone each other. the battle of the tapenade was the most riveting dinner scene i've read in a minute. clever, hilarious, emotionally tense. can’t wait until that inevitable moment post hate-sex when they’re gonna be like “oh noooo it’s a Heart Boner as well!! >:((” hell ya we’re subscribing for chapter updates.

Dragons Don’t Know Paradise by @teacup-tai - WIP - E In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

non-magical bookshop AU. remus and sirius’ relationship is a marvel. the ease of their affection with harry makes me so emo. draco’s friends being insistently present even as he tries to isolate himself. this is a story about acceptance, found families, and falling in love at a distance. the intimacy, the longing, the tenderness. what a fic!! i keep coming back to this part:...he looks at ease, inside his body, a body he needed to fight for. He’d made peace with his struggles and his scars. And Draco realises he wants that. He wants to be at ease inside his body, the body that now carries a virus. He wants to be at peace with his own existence. you hurt for draco so deeply but you get moments like these where he affords himself a kindness that feels foreign and it’s just!! the boys navigating grief and learning to be vulnerable. so good.

#drarry fic rec #drarry #we live and die for desi harry aka hari poddar bc fuq jkr #a lot of soft drarrys this week but in my defense ive been reading hella angst and my depression was not finding that cute #weekly drarrys

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sourwormsaresour · 3 years

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Headcanons on the type of pets La Squadra would own?

Holy shit this was too fun to make, especially with giving the pets names.

Sorbet and Gelato have their own Crusty-White-Dog™ that's a Maltese Terrier named Armani. The dog hates and barks nonstop at everything deemed threatening (aka, everyone and particularly the rest of La Squadra) and yet those two will claim she's the sweetest thing in the world. True to her name, they deck her with Armani branded clothes, either specially made dog fashion or they had a DIY done to make it look like an Armani outfit- down to the bright pink leash she wears dripping in the Armani logo. She eats the finest dry kibble and only drinks Ferrarelle Sparkling water; she will know the difference if you switch it up. She's the epitome of "I demand pets but only do so with your eyes" to everyone. Despite loving Sorbet and Gelato the most, she demands all their attention on her and she will cockblock those two if she catches them being affectionate to each other instead. Despite having a nice bed, she always sleeps between the two of them and will whimper if they kick her out of the bedroom so they can get intimate. Those tear-stained eyes always look like they've seen everything, despite being constantly babied by her owners. If Armani could, she would kill everyone.

Risotto, the biggest man in Vento Aureo, has a little Syrian hamster he called Ace. He thought that a pet with a shorter lifespan would allow him the perfect balance of having a pet but not being very attached to it compared to pets that live longer- he was wrong. If you ever come into Risotto's office as he worked, either you are greeted with Ace running around in his green hamster ball, walking around Risotto's desk as he worked, or running in the hamster wheel behind the desk. Ace's tank is an old Aquarium tank Pesci gave to Risotto that is now full of soft bedding, toys, and Risotto frequently cleans it. There are days where Risotto just spends hours watching his hamster walk around the room, eating little treats, and staring at Risotto with its beady eyes. It's gotten to the point where you can't walk into Risotto's office without noticing a lone sunflower seed or piece of bedding on the ground that Risotto didn't notice until you pointed it out. Every time Ace passes from old age, Risotto buys a new Syrian hamster and calls that one Ace. He hasn't kept track of how many hamsters that came and went so far, but treated every one of them as if they were the first Ace. He takes pictures of Ace doing the most relatively boring things and will share them with his members.

Illuso got a Sulphur-crested cockatoo named Scapino as a joke. He thought they didn’t require much attention but later felt bad when he found out that they need specific proper care. He proceeds to care for it as if it was his child. Illuso taught his bird how to speak and swear at people, specifically swearing at Formaggio and occasionally at Ghiaccio. This man will shower his bird with the best treats (expensive nuts, dried fruit, chicken bones) and has a special bar for it to perch on when they're in the shower together. This bird has free reign all over Illuso's place and wears a little anklet thing to verify that it has an owner should it escape. The two of them have spa days together and it’s one of the most wholesome things in the world to witness. Scapino will actually join Illuso on missions too, staying in the mirror world the whole time, and it provides him some comfort from his social anxiety. Sometimes Scapino sits on his shoulder as he walks. Illuso trained it to stay and hide in the mirror world so that it wouldn’t fly away or blow his cover when he’s working. But the bird will fly around in there and will watch anyone that’s getting murked in front of him with no remorse and commenting on it too. Imagine you’re dying in the mirror world and your last moment is this fucking bird looming over you going “night night, motherfucker”. JESUS CHRIST.

Prosciutto used to be on the whole “pets are unnecessary” train but he had considered looking at breeders for the best quality dog. And then one rainy day he found an abandoned Portuguese Water Dog puppy in an alleyway and at Pesci’s insistence took it in. Turns out the puppy was bought by a rich family for their kid but then abandoned when the kid wasn't interested in it anymore. Prosciutto insisted that the dog was going to stay for one night and then sent to the pound first thing in the morning. It's been years now and the little dog is now a big fluffy good boy named Pon Pon. The second biggest chunk of Prosciutto's paycheck is for this dog; I'm talking grooming services with paw-ticures, an all-organic raw diet, the nicest beds that even a human would wish they can sleep on. Pon Pon is properly trained with all the basics and tricks, because Prosciutto doesn't want to deal with a misbehaving dog, but it will use puppy eyes against the old man now and then. He give you the best smiles if you call him a good boy and if you glance at the right time you can see Prosciutto smile for a brief moment. Had he lived longer, he would have made Pon Pon famous on Facebook like Boo the Dog. Prosciutto will also not admit that this dog has helped him get laid a few times, because every person he did bring home always got a kick out of Pon Pon.

Ghiaccio has a pet snake- an albino ball python named Bianco. Ghiaccio was also on the “pets are unnecessary” train too but mainly because he can't stand loud pets (i.e. Illuso and Sorbet and Gelato’s pets). When Risotto suggested he get a snake, Ghiaccio looked into it, researching and meticulously setting up the proper enclosure and found himself going to a local reptile expo to find Bianco for sale. He’s fascinated by his snake to say the least, and would use leftover containers or Tupperware for Bianco to spend more money on proper equipment or food. Ghiaccio is really involved in online reptile forums and frequently debates with people on topics such as the best substrates to use, whether live rodents are better than frozen, ethics of breeding certain species, etc. He often gets worried when Bianco becomes picky and Ghiaccio would spend sleepless nights trying to get his baby to eat. Ghiaccio would walk around with his ball python wrapped around his neck or lets him slither around in his room under supervision but he mostly leaves him alone in the enclosure. There are times where he would claim he has the best, smartest pet and everyone just rolls their eyes like “yes the white fettuccine that got stuck in a toilet paper roll an hour ago is so smart”. But they let him rant about it. It’s kind of cute to say the least.

Pesci is the definition of people whose entire LIVELIHOOD is making his room into an aquarium. His room is full of strictly maintained, cleaned, and decorated tanks full of various types of aquatic animals. I’m talking Dwarf Puffers (Antonio, Portia, Jessica, Bassiano, and Solanio), Albino Gold Axolotls (Moe, Larry, and Curly), Red Ear Sliders (Franco and Ciccio), Clown Fishes (Browser, Mario, Toadstool, and Koopa), Brazilian Sea Horses (Tom and Jerry), a Blue Betta Fish named Valentina in a 30+ gallon aquaponics tank that grows a variety of plants each season- to name a few. He rebuilt his entire room to keep everything running and even had Melone help him set up timers for lighting and temperature control. Pesci will cry if you somehow made the pH level off by 1 or did not care for his animals properly when he’s away. He’ll even lecture you about bad tank setup. He's a prominent member of the aquarium community in Italy and will regularly redecorate each tank to suit the year and mood. This is where he’s spending his cut on the 20 million lira job: caring for his mini aquarium room. He occasionally gives away his pets’ offsprings for extra money (he doesn’t breed but sometimes he ends up having a ton of baby animals he can’t take care of) and would have been a YouTuber for his fish content. Now that I think about it, Pesci reminds me of my mutual @nexter2nd. Please go follow them.

Melone has a Holland Lop bunny and you cannot change my mind. He actually had a pet bunny growing up, another Holland Lop named Echo and Grep, and his current one is named Sudo; all three are named after UNIX commands. He has a large dog crate he diy-ed to be a roomy enclosure in his room for her that he cleans frequently but also allows Sudo free reign of the room when she wants to go out. Because of his job, he makes sure all his wires are covered so his bunny isn't tempted to chew them and watches his bunny diligently whenever she roams around. Easter time is when the denim jacket, pastel bows, and flower crowns come out and Melone makes sure to take a lot of photos. He also housetrained his bunny and taught her a few tricks, similar to how he trained Echo and Grep years ago. Sudo is spoiled in terms of getting a lot of pets, new toys, and feasts on the finest veggies and delicious hay. Melone also makes sure the first thing he teaches his Juniors is to not harm the bunny. Surprisingly, he's against breeding Sudo and has her neutered. This is mainly because he doesn't have the time to breed and raise more bunnies but also he hates the idea of selling the grown bunnies off afterward.

You know that Formaggio has a cat: the little Russian Blue cat named Sweetie Baby. Sweetie Baby was a kitten that he found outside his home. The little thing was the sole survivor of its litter and nearly starving to death, so he took her in thinking he will bring her to the shelter when she recovers; that cat now lets him live in HER apartment rent-free. Despite feeding her cheap dry food and constantly shoving her into bottles, he treats her like a queen otherwise. He will dress her up in little outfits (much to her annoyance) and often would be too aggressively affectionate towards her. Still, there are moments where she would cuddle with him during the later nights and allow him to put on one iced-out bow he just spent a quarter of his paycheck on. Walking to his apartment and even the backdoor of La Squadra’s HQ means carefully walking through the stray cats mewling at your feet, because Formaggio will feed any cat he sees. Initially, Risotto wanted the cats gone, but then he finds out the cats doubled as security when he watched some robber attempting to break in but getting their eyes scratched off instead.

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shhhlikeme · 3 years

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“Light Work”

Hawks x Fem!Reader

-> 2.97k words 💘

The Secret’s Out!

Valentine’s Exchange Gift For Nicole💘💘💘 ( @vixenpen ) 💘💘💘 love u!

Exchange Organized by The Lovely @ayocee !!! ❣️

Prompt: Hawks Valentine’s date that ends in smut

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, fluff + smut

A/N: This is my first time writing for BNHA!!! So cool - It was fun, hope it’s sufficient:)

Song: Unthinkable by Alicia Keys

The chilled red wine cooled your warm tongue as you emptied the remains of your glass.

Licking your now red-stained lips, to get rid of the fogginess you blinked at the laptop screen in front of you.

“Baby,” you called as you poured yourself a third glass. “Can you show me the sunset again?”

Displayed on your cute laptop screen is a FaceTime call—one that you certainly could have answered on your iPhone but you needed the visual to be as big as possible tonight.

When your question reached the other side of the call, the screen that once showed you in real-time: the intensity of the Pacific ocean in spring from a birds-eye view, tilted like a rollercoaster. Then, your eyes were met with the awe-inspiring visual that is the Pacific sunset from the point of view in the centre of the ocean. It’s shot from a perfect perspective: a perspective too low for a plane to capture, yet too high for a boat to capture. It is a perspective only attainable by a certain pro hero of yours…

“Wow...” your lips moved autonomously, even before you had time to register the thought— but as are the effects of your favourite bottle of red.

Your eyes bore into the gorgeous planes of the orange and pink horizon. You unknowingly let your cheek rest on your closed fist, soaking in the rarity of this wonder. Admiring it.

“You like it, beautiful?” Called a loving voice, taking you out of your trance for a second.

“Of course.” You answered.

“I—“

“Please. Don’t give me that cheesy ‘it’s not as beautiful as you’ line that’s it’s in every lame movie,”

The soft joyous chuckle of your boyfriend’s laugh reverberated through the speakers, travelling right from his lips to your heart: effectively warming it in its entirety.

“I was actually going to say to say that I wish I could bring your tipsy ass up here.” He chuckled again. “This mission would sure be a lot more fun if your legs were wrapped around me. You know: pretending to drop you so you’d hold on tighter.... your ass in my hands...”

“Hm,” you smirked, glad that your new boyfriend didn’t plan on giving you one of the cheesy lines most guys did. “I agree.”

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend inquired, voice rising with interest. “You really are getting tipsy, aren’t you? Usually you’d kill me for even saying that,”

“Well...Under these circumstances.. maybe I wanna be nice tonight....” you weren’t aware of the sexual innuendo entering your tone when you said that either.

But your boyfriend, however-- picked up on it right away.

He bit his lip bottom. “...how nice?”

“Hmmm… Nice enough to balance out the awfulness that is: my boyfriend having to leave me in the middle of our first Valentine’s Day date?”

Hawks sighed. “Mmmmm I know. I know, baby, and I’m sorry….”

You frowned. “Why are you apologizing? It was incredible while it lasted and we were able to get through most of it without interruption, so I have to be thankful for that knowing your job. Plus, It’s not like it’s your fault—“

“But I’m apologizing anyway. I wanted to finish the date and be there with you... I wanted to see your face when you saw how I decorated my apartment for you,”

Your eyes left the passing sunset so that you could take in the over-the-top but romantic-as-all-hell way in which your man decorated his apartment for you for Valentine’s Day.

From where you laid atop the blankets on his King sized bed, you could see the shiny balloons everywhere; some on the floor moving around because the window is open and the air is blowing them slightly. You could also see the dozens of candle flames fluttering with the wind and making the room smell heavenly--you could also see the real rose petals everywhere, even underneath you on the bed, as well as the silver and red streamers on the ceilings that could not easily be reached by anyone but your Hawks. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your cooler-than-thou boyfriend sprinkling girly rose petals everywhere as your boyfriend continued speaking.

“--It’s annoying because this mission is not even anything big, either. Just scouting for Selkie while his crew is out. It’s shitty new Hero work, to be honest, but the kids are in final exams right now I guess. Either way, I’d much rather be finishing the amazing date I had planned with you. I mean at least I got to take you to that yakiniku spot, but—“

“—That food was amazing, though,”

Keigo returned your interruption—though his voice dropped, speaking slowly. “—Your dress was amazing.” 🤤 he let out a sexily breathy chuckle, not missing a beat.

Clearly, it had been something on his mind judging by how quickly that response came out.

This time, when you heard your boyfriend’s sensually connotation chuckle; warmed more than just your heart.

Acting on impulse, and maybe a little bit on alcohol, too, your hand not holding the wine glass fiddled with the end of the short but very expensive-looking dress you wore. It is a form fitting maxi and, yes, it is red.

You made sure to pick a red that perfectly matched the colour of your Pro hero’s wings. Ironically enough, it matched the colour of the wine you’ve been drinking tonight too.

Needless to say, you ruffled Hawk’s feathers in the best way when he picked you up earlier tonight. He was practically salivating and if he didn’t have reservations you two would have never made it out the house tonight. You made him behave himself until after dinner even though you wanted to pounce on him all the same. The look of your man in a tux, God damn. The wait always made it better, though.

So you two did wait. And that ‘later’ that you two unspokenly promised each other over heated glances at dinner is…. now.

However, this “now” had been tortuously ripped away from you both when your man got a Hero call just as he was simultaneously fumbling with his house keys and undoing his belt. You avoided pouting or crying about his departure by indulging in your favourite wine that your boyfriend had bought, the one chilling near the bed just for you two.

“You liked it?” You asked about your dress, your voice matching the sensual aspect of Tamaki’s.

Your man groaned through the speakers. “Your legs........your ass......” is all he answered before he fantasized over there,

You watched the screen as Hawk’s right-wing that was visible in the FaceTime: straightened. “God, babe...If I wasn’t on this mission...”

“—If you weren’t on this mission, what?” You inquired coyly, unaware of the fact that the hand of yours that was playing with the dress’s hem had now begun brushing your thigh, tingling your skin lightly. The tingling was only intensified by the breezy air that flowed through the opened windows in Hawk’s apartment. It was complemented only by the sound of the breeze that took up the speaker because the #2 hero was calmly soaring through the air.

“If....” Keigo continued, “If I wasn’t on this mission staring at this fucking ocean.... then I’d....”

Your fingers pushed your skirt up—just barely.

“You’d...?”

“I’d be staring at another ocean, one I like much more--tongue-fucking you so deeply you’d be pooling around me, babe. Just the way I like you to.”

Your breath hitched when those travelling fingers on yours pressed against the outside of your g-string: prodding lightly against the fabric that covered the ocean your man was talking about.

Upon hearing your breath hitch, the FaceTime video camera scrambled upward, your gorgeous boyfriend coming into view as he soared through the sky. Behind those transparent yellow goggles, his eyes were wide. Not because he was surprised, oh no, on the contrary: your boyfriend knew just how much you wanted him to make you scream tonight based on the way you looked at him over dinner...that wasn’t it.

His eyes widened more out of jealousy: recognizing the sound of your impending orgasm—even if very far—as accurately as he can recognize danger on a Hero mission. “Aw, you gonna play without me, baby?” He sounded smug, not sad.

“Call it getting a head start...” You answered quickly, knowing that your boyfriend’s mission shouldn’t last longer than a few hours. That just meant you’d be able to take a nap in between that would hopefully give you enough energy to keep up with your insatiable, sex-God of a man when he gets home.

“Okay, beautiful. Then start.” He answered coolly—sexily.

Your entire body responded in the feeling of increased sensitivity, irrevocably turned on by your boyfriend’s demands.

And he knew that.

You stretched so that you could set your wine glass on the bedside table, giving your man a great view of your ass in that red dress.

The same red dress that’s been living in his horny thoughts rent-free for the past two hours.

He groaned. “Do that again and I’m losing my job today,”

You smiled prettily as you returned to the laptop camera, getting comfortable by suckling on your middle & pointer finger gently.

“Shit, Y/N...I love when you’re eager baby,”

You nodded, staring at your boyfriend through the screen as he flew through the sky. You did this as you awaited instruction patiently. As always.

Hawks, who had originally been using his back camera-only in order to avoid getting distracting from enemy-watch, tried to remind himself why he did that as he struggled to keep hold of his phone.

On his end, the sight of you looking so needy and sucking on your own fingers so that they were wet when you plunged them into the heat that—just the thought makes him drool—proved too much for him.

And you haven’t even started yet.

His dick hardened just from looking at you.

“No, Hawks. Can’t.” Hawks mumbled to himself, obviously putting his phone back down and switching the camera so it wasn’t facing him again. You were met with the pretty water once encore, the waves now sparkling due to the warm sunset reflecting off of them.

“I can’t watch, love.” Hawks stated, disappointment evident in his tone. “But don’t stop. Close your eyes and lay on your back.”

Fingers still in your mouth, you listened.

“Spread those legs, baby.”

You listened.

“Hike up that dress but don’t.take.it.off. That job’s for me. You hear me?”

You nodded, even though neither of you could see each other.

Hawks, being the good hero that he is, used all of his mental strength not to peek. He had to complete this mission.

You always listened anyway.

As always.

“Pull down the straps of your dress--just the straps. So that your tits are out. Are you wearing a bra?”

You were going to move your finger to answer before your man did it for you,

“Fuck, no you’re not...” he said in a strained voice. He recalled how your perky nipples pressed against the sinful dress’s red fabric in the car because you were cold. This was before Hawks had given you his jacket that you wore the rest of the night. “God imma lose this job....” Keigo muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Mm,” you answered around your own fingers.

“Make small circles around inner thighs, baby. Right around the prize. Use the hand that isn’t currently filling-in for my cock.”

You moaned, doing just as he says with the visual of your man’s perfect dick replacing your fingers in your mind right now. You felt your pussy throb.

Hawks inwardly cursed his job when he heard you moan, pleased with himself but subconsciously deliberating just how much shit he’d get in if he left this mission post right now...

After a few minutes, when Hawks heard your breath pick up, triggering him to get harder, he licked his dry lips and said,

“Mm, now move your thong to the side. Slide those fingers up and down your lips baby, the same way I do with my tongue. You know how.”

“Mmff,” you moaned, eyes still closed and still licking around your own fingers. You pretended you were cockwarming the #2 hero’s heavenly length.

“Good, baby. Now switch hands.”

You listened immediately—using the soaked fingers in your mouth to glide up and down your soaking pussy lips. They slid even easier than your other hand did and since—in your head—those fingers were stepping in as your man’s dick, it somehow felt even more pleasurable than your other hand.

You moaned, arching your back slightly. “O-oh,”

Against his better judgement, Keigo was unable to stop himself from looking down at his phone when you moaned like that, immediately dropping the device when the sight of you running your hand between your pussy lips with that sexy dress bunched at the waist came into vision.

“Fuck,” Hawks cursed, flying down quickly to grab his phone just before it hit the water.

He checked to make sure that him dropping it hadn’t disturbed you, and then he let out a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn’t. You were still doing as he said with your eyes closed, and obviously having a good time doing it too.

Unable to fight his desire anymore, Tamaki’s eyes darted around, scanning the horizon and the ocean for anyone within a 100-mile radius.

When he deemed the coast, quite literally—clear—he held his phone with one hand and stuffed his hand inside his pants, grabbing his overexcited dick.

“Insert one finger baby. You pick.” Keigo directed--his own finger encircling the tip of his dick. He resisted a groan that begged to be released.

“Good. Now, insert the other. No, nice and slow baby. Niceeee…. and slow,”

You did--and he copied your movements, a sense of pride washing over him that he had such a beautiful, absolutely stunning lover.

***

You listened to your man for the next ten or so minutes... trying your best to hold off your orgasm as your stomach coiled in the best way. The combination of your fingers; the sound of your man’s deep voice giving demands; the thought of his dick inside you instead; and the way that the wind entering his apartment via the open windows contrasted the heat of your wet vagina; wow…. all of it just felt too incredible.

“I’m close, baby...” you whispered hastily. “Can I touch my—“

Just as you were about to ask if you could pinch your nipples in order to throw yourself over the edge, you were erotically surprised by someone--or should you say someTHING --doing it for you.

Your eyes shot open, and then your back arched, even more, when you realized that the thing that touched you is nothing more than a red feather.

It encircled your nipple pleasurably, another coming from the window and encircled the other nipple.

Your toes curled. The feathers were the same colour as your dress.

“Ahh, Keigo!” You moaned, not even waiting for permission before you sped up the pace of your fingers. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own fruition.

There was a smirk in your boyfriend’s voice. “I assume they’re there, baby?”

“Ngh.....” you sped up the pace even more, your short fingers just barely hitting your g-spot; the g-spot that your man’s dick can always reach. You whimpered.

The feathers around your nipples whirled around your body whimsically, filling in for what your fingers were just short of in other ways:

travelling down the line that centres your breast...

tracing your neckline...

moving down to encircle your ankles...

“Oh my God, H-Hawks, yes-s, ah....!”

The soft-touch of the material’s feathers felt so good. No, they weren’t Hawks’ strong hands, and the two small entities just ghosted over your skin... barely locatable, but it is the fact that they were red and they were your MAN’s —your man who is physically cities away right now—that made this indescribably amazing for you.

He is cities away: yet he is here. This is him.

“Hawks…” you sighed, getting closer and closer,

“Y/N....” Hawks sighed back roughly: deeply.

Not that you could see but his eyes were half-lidded as he watched you get off. Seeing you be assaulted by the feathers he sent drove him absolutely mad. This had to be the sexiest things he’s ever seen from afar.

“I love you, Y/N.” Your man said softly, biting his lip and forgetting his demands because right now he needed to cum. The sight of you like this was too much to bear. Hawk’s picked up the pace of his own hand on his cock.

When the feathers returned to your nipples from your belly button, you let out a wanton scream moan, your white-hot orgasm ripping through your body as violently as the Pacific waves that were crashing underneath your boyfriend right now.

Hawks’ orgasm followed soon after, your name falling from his lips as he just-barely pulled his pants down in time so that he released in the ocean instead of in his suit pants.

You both calmed your breathing as you came back down to earth. The feathers fell next to you as if they were sleeping peacefully.

After a few moments passed and you found the strength to open your eyes, rolling over to look at your Hero. He matched your semi-satiated expression so you could guess that he had found sweet release as well just now.

Keigo knew you well enough to know that you needed a nap at this time, just as you usually did post-orgasm. Therefore, he wasn’t surprised whatsoever when you whispered in parting:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Be home soon so we can do...this... in person.”

“Of course.” Hawks answered. Then, he couldn’t resist adding a cheeky pun.

🕊

“I’ll fly there if I have to.”

#Valentine’s exchange💝#my hero academia #bnha imagines #hawks x reader #hawks x black!reader #bnha headcanons #keigo tamaki #keigo tamaki x reader #bnha scenarios #mha hawks #mha #mha headcanons

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mondayrobot · 3 years

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Year-End Fanfiction List (M)

This year has opened me to so many fan-fictions. Here are the list of EM fan-fictions that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this year.

Warning: The contents contain adult themes.

Rating: Mature

a royal weakness ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

In everyone else’s eyes, she was just his Commander, the Silver Lady, the first woman to take control over the entire King’s fleet. But to him she was so much more, the girl who’d been by his side for the longest time, his most trusted companion… His lover.

Abditive ( Blanca21 )

It was a countless time he heard them calling her cold-blooded and heartless.In his mind, she was anything except those words.

All I need ( liquorisce ) @liquorisce

This fic features long time lovers Eren and Mikasa, their bid to make their own family, and in that process discovering what family really means.

and i am a smiling woman ( orphan_account )

and they have longed for each other; mourned for each other.

Big Bad World ( MyTARDISsenseIsTingling ) @my-tardis-sense-is-tingling

What if Eren hadn't gotten there to rescue Mikasa in time?

Broken Down ( miikasaa )

It's in the dead of night, with innumerable regrets and dead faces haunting them, that Eren and Mikasa use each other's bodies to chase away the horrors of a failed mission. It never works, they know this all too well, but it doesn't stop them from trying.

Come to Me, My Sweetest Friend ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Mikasa and Eren grew up as neighbors with both their parents still alive.

Degrees of Sleeplessness ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

“To share in the night’s quiet loneliness, a companion for the vast hours of sleeplessness, is, perhaps, all they’ve ever wanted.” Two teachers at the local high school, Eren and Mikasa, in the midst of work and home-life, find themselves indubitably and inescapably drawn to one another.

Elysian ( miikasaa )

Collection of works showing Eren and Mikasa's relationship in canon, post-canon, and modern settings.

Feels Like Home ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Even when their homes were a thing of the long past, they always found a home in the comfort of each other.

Games ( miikasaa )

Restless after beginning their days as trainees, the 104th decide to relax a bit by playing strip poker. It goes about as well as anyone can imagine.

Girls and Boys ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

A collection of one-shots depicting the relationship between Eren and Mikasa in various ways.

Happy Anniversary ( blehbleehhhh )

It's Eren and MIkasa's second anniversary. Things get kinky after returning home from dinner.

How to Coexist ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Rent in NYC is ridiculous, but by a stroke of luck, Mikasa manages to snag an apartment for mindblowingly cheap rates. However, upon moving in, she discovers, to her horror, that her roommate Eren was a past one-night stand. In which two twenty-somethings struggle to shrug aside their misgivings, not to mention diffuse a helluva lotta sexual tension—for the sake of affordable rent.

I Bet My Life For You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in the canon universe within the story line, or were predictions for future chapters at the time, focusing on Eren and Mikasa.

I'll Take You Back Where You Belong ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in an Alternative Modern Day Universe where Eren saved Mikasa as children from a home invasion that killed her parents and caused her to live with her much older brother Levi.

I'm Gonna Be the Man Whose Coming Home to You ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

Still determined to keep things normal after a twist in their relationship, Eren and Mikasa still go through with their plans to take a road trip to the the Jaeger's beach house with Armin, Connie, Sasha, and Jean their summer after their first year of college. Their friends are weary of everyone being crammed in a car with them at close proximity, but they soon learn not all is as it seems (and that there are far more awkward things to deal with in close spaces).

Kaleidoscopes ( Kaekiro ) @kaekiro

A collection of stories that will follow Eren and Mikasa through various AUs.

Keeping Warm ( lionhart )

Eren and Mikasa’s first time.

king, lover, hold me tight ( artsycat )

Mikasa, as one of the heroes that single-handedly ensured the victory of Eldia against Marley during the war, must now use her newfound status to marry Eren, judged as a traitor in the eyes of Eldia, in order to ensure his protection.

Kiss With a Fist ( DenDenSushi, Lyssala ) @lyssala

It's always a normal day at school when an Apocalypse decides to descend. One minute Eren is trying to pass his chemistry class & the next he's wielding a baseball bat against bodies trying to bite him. Along with Mikasa & Armin, they are forced into a world where all it takes is one bite & you're dead.

Lawless ( kuchenackerman ) @kuchenackerman

Despite his youth, Eren Jaeger is one of the best and most required doctors of the Kingdom. Among those interested on his services is included a recognized criminal clan, which does not hesitate to use the youngest of the Ackerman as bait. Eren never imagined that this "harmless" girl in red dress would get him into so much trouble.

Lullabies in the Night ( happymikasa ) @happymikasa

People's voices sound quite beautiful when they sing, hum, or tweet. Mikasa discovered that after the defeat of the Titans.

Eren's voice is the most powerful though. Especially when he takes her to bed at night.

Lulls in the Sea ( dialectus ) @dialectus

"Lull: a temporary interval of quiet or lack of activity."

milk and honey ( bbyunnie ) @moonguks

a series of oneshots centered around eren and mikasa, across variant universes and situations.

OFFSIDE ( La_Ultima_00 )

Eren returns home and meets someone unexpected. After so long, his poor heart has not forgotten her.

Peace time ( almost_certain )

Eren and Mikasa haven't spoken since the last battle. Perhaps they can be civil long enough for their friends to tie the knot.

Reason for Dreaming ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Mikasa and Armin have known each other for the past three years, having the same college major and all. It's traditional of them to study in Mikasa's dorm with her stoner roommate, Sasha. One afternoon, they opt to study in Armin's apartment, and that's where she meets his roommate. He's a fiery guy, interrupting their study session by loudly cursing over a mustard-stained shirt and a family-owned restaurant.

Reckless Roses ( mikasuhdude ) @mikasuhdude

Not every couple is blessed with fertility.

Ruins In Bloom ( miikasaa )

Three years after the eradication of the Titans, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and a few other survivors are ready to settle down in the free world. Finished with their travels and free from the oppression of the Titans, they're ready to begin their new lives. However, as each of the veterans knows, somethings are impossible to bury completely in the past. Scars will never completely heal, and sometimes, leaving behind a lifetime of warfare is unattainable.

Mikasa wishes for the domestic life she's always craved, and with Armin and Eren by her side, she thinks she'll finally get it. But the sudden change proves to be too much for Eren, and to her horror, he leaves. He leaves her behind, leaves everyone behind, and leaves her to deal with a change in her life she never wanted to experience on her own.

Say You'll Stay With Me ( miikasaa )

Sometimes it was enough simply to be with Mikasa, to hold her close, to hear her heart and know that they'd survived one more day together. And sometimes, she needed to be closer, to let him help her to forget the terror they witness every day.

Seasons of the Sea ( Lindsey (Lipstick) )

At the age of twenty-three, Mikasa gives birth to their first child – a small, tiny little girl – in their home by the sea, built after the defeat of the titans. An hour later, Eren disappears for three days, only a kiss on her forehead prior to signal his departure.

set in stone ( Beatingheartanthem )

Eren is jostled around by time, experiencing and re-experiencing different moments with Mikasa. Some choices made are the same. Some choices made are different. He knows he's going to die, but he'd like a moment of peace before he does.

So, then— ( Beatingheartanthem )

Over the past two years, Mikasa and Armin have grown estranged from their childhood friend. With a new girlfriend, new friends, Eren Jaeger is a person they don't quite know. Senior year: With graduation around the corner, Eren disappears forever. Now Mikasa wonders if things could've been different. In every version of history, in every universe, every path taken, is his fate set in stone?

the rivers song ( artsycat )

Mikasa has always dreamt about life afterwards.

Under the brine ( milkywaywide ) @milkywaywide

But Eren is still in her. And she can’t shake the utter alienation she feels, so bad it almost feels like an out of body experience, like a weird dream, like she’s drowning.

vermillion ( sionnacha )

Eren’s mouth tastes of blood—like putrid liquefied iron, and still, she cannot stop herself from diving in for more. Even though the earth around them is scorched, even though there is rubble and ash everywhere she looks, all she wants his him.

Washed-Up and Rundown ( spoilerarlert ) @spoilerarlert

Levi, a washed-up ex-journalist working a dead-end custodian job, finds himself transplanted into a suburban neighborhood, serving as the legal guardian of his sixteen-year-old second cousin, twice removed, Mikasa. There, he struggles to navigate the dynamic of this two-person household and in the midst locks horns with the local pain-in-the-ass: a teenager a few houses down the street by the name of Eren Jaeger.

We'll Go Home and Start Again ( Lyssala ) @lyssala

A collection of Tumblr requests that take place in Alternative Universes of many varieties featuring Eren and Mikasa.

When You Break ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

"And when he kisses her, she can immediately tell that tonight is no different than the others." Eren and Mikasa seek shelter from the memories that haunt them in each other's arms. Mikasa comes to realize that you can't always kiss away the pain.

With You, I Am Home ( cupofdaydream ) @cupofdaydream

A collection of drabbles following Eren and Mikasa's relationship through various scenarios.

#eremika #tbd #fanfiction #writing

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donutloverxo · 4 years

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Salty Baby

Chapter five

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn’t what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn’t going to pay your rent and college loans.

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings- smut, little anal stuff, daddy kink, angst, hurt/comfort, sugar daddy/baby themes

Word count- 2.2k

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four

Masterlist

Not having to work at the cafe or babysit your nephews freed up a lot of time for you. You were used to caring for others, always being busy with something. What the heck are you supposed to do now? Steve suggested getting a hobby. You tried cooking and almost burned down the kitchen.

Steve had been on a mission for two weeks. He had promised to be back in one. Your anxiety was through the roof. This is the longest you had been away from him. You weren’t allowed to contact him. Your worst fear was to find out something bad happened to him through the news.

It was also the first time you were truly alone. At first it was your mother and her delinquent friends and then your loud nephews. Now there was no one . No one to annoy you, nothing to do. Just silence.

Silence was deafening. It made your mind go to dark places, think about dark things. Things you pushed in some corner of your mind. You had to. You weren’t going to wallow in sadness forever.

You deserved to be happy. You kept telling yourself over and over again.

You were making some ramen for dinner after writing a long tedious paper. With your favorite show on, you were set for a nice relaxing night.

You shrieked when you looked at your supersoilder standing in the middle of your living room, almost dropping your bowl of ramen. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

You carelessly dropped the bowl on the coffee table embracing him in a tight hug. His scent overwhelming your senses. You felt tears roll down your cheeks. You were blown away by the relief you felt seeing him safe and sound and the weeks of longing and restless nights spent without him.

He let put a muffled groan before wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you too” He whispered nuzzling his nose in your hair.

You pushed yourself off of him, cradling his face in your hand. “Are you hurt?” You asked.

Steve was always distant when he got back from a long mission. He would still crave your hugs and cuddles, sometimes your body, to switch back to his normal self. You didn’t mind. You wanted to be there for him as he was for you. Your heart broke at the physical and emotional toll his work took on him.

“Oh my god” You cried looking his white t-shirt, now stained with blood around his ribs. You softly touched it with your hand. Taking it back instantly when you heard him hiss. “Why didn’t you get it checked out?”

“Don’t worry about it doll. I heal pretty fast. I just needed to see you” He said dipping down a bit to capture your lips.

You pulled away before he could. Frowning at him. “How could you be so careless?”

Turns out he did have a flaw after all. A fatal one at that.

He gave you a pout tilting his head a bit. By now he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh fine” You huffed. Standing on your tippy toes to capture his lips. You didn’t give in completely though, pulling away after just a few seconds.

You pulled on his hand, dragging him to the bathroom. Your ordered him to sit on the toilet seat while you looked for the first aid kit. You had patched up your mother and your sister a few times but you didn’t have a lot of experience with it. He really should have gotten his wounds checked at the med bay.

You stood in front of him pouring the alcohol on a small cotton bud. You looked at him, he was staring at his hands, his knuckles bruised.

“Hey come back to me” You whispered softly kneeling in front of him, caressing his swollen cheek.

“I should have stayed at the tower” he gave you a small smile “I don’t want you seeing me like this”

“No, don’t say that. I just want you to be more careful. You’re not alone anymore. I don’t mind patching you up or taking care of you”

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be more careful” He kissed your palm, his smile lifting up ever so slightly.

After stitching up some of his wounds you made him some tea to calm his nerves. You talked about your week while sipping on yours. You asked him about his mission but didn’t pry too much since he didn’t want to talk about it.

After a few hours most of his wounds healed and he seemed to relax. You were both in bed holding hands. Usually your legs would be tangled together while you were pressed tight, holding each other. You didn’t want to agitate his wounds so you chose to keep your distance. It was easy said than done. Two weeks without him, without his body against yours, him inside of you, had left you feeling hot and bothered.

He shifted towards you to get closer to you.

“Steve” You warned him. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was giving you a cheeky smile. “You can’t sleep?”

“Don’t worry” He said pinching your cheek “Just jetlagged. It’ll come in a while”

You hummed to that. Throwing a leg over him. You propped yourself on your elbow when you felt, what could only be his erection, again your shin.

You smirked grabbing it in your hand stroking him through his boxers. He groaned out your name growing harder in your hand.

“Let me take care of you, daddy” You got up freeing his cock from the tight boxers.

“Shit” He cursed as you fondled and rubbed him in your hand. He particularly lost his mind when you grazed your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum to lube him up. “Do that again” He cried.

You did a couple of times before kneeling on your hands and knees to take him in your mouth. You sucked at his tip licking his slit while fondling his balls. Craning your neck to take one of them in your mouth sucking on it.

“Don’t tease” He demanded manoeuvring your head back to his dick.

With some research and practice you had become an expert at making him putty in your hands. You took his length in your mouth going as deep as you could. You still couldn’t completely swallow him.

He bunched up your hair creating a makeshift pony tail while you bobbed your head up and down on him. Making loud slurping noises. You were determined to take him as far down your throat as you could.

He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He felt as if he could cum then and there. He tried distracting himself looking around the room. Only to be met with the silhouette of your ass peaking out of your nightshirt.

He groaned letting go of your hair to squeeze and fondle your cheeks. He brushed his fingers over your folds dipping them in. You were tight, tighter than you normally are. He could tell. You clenched on his fingers moaning around his dick. He had missed that feeling more than anything.

“Get over here” his voice raspy, commanding. He pulled at you dragging you to pull you just above his mouth.

You blushed at the awkward position. You had sat on his face a few times but never while you were sucking him. You were about to protest, you were trying to take care of him not the other way around, when you felt him lick a strip up your pussy.

You shuddered above him as he kept licking and pushing his tongue inside of you, fucking you with it. He pushed at your head. “Keep going”

You struggle to suck him or even stroke him, with him sucking harshly at your clit while playing with your pluckered hole.

You tried your best to keep from gagging as you stuffed him in your mouth and breathe through your nose.

“I’m going to come” you whined as he gently bit your clit “Come with me daddy. Come in my mouth” you plead.

You felt his grip on your ass get tighter as he pulled you in his tongue eating you out mercilessly. You cried out gushing around his mouth. You felt him release spurts of salty creamy cum in your mouth. You swallowed around him not wanting to waste one bit. You heaved trying to catch your breath as you took him out of your mouth.

Resting your head on his thigh tired from your orgasm. You bounced your fingers on his cock like a little trampoline. You giggled to yourself.

“What’s funny?” he asked smacking your ass his voice hoarse and tired.

“Nothing” You tried your best to muffle your laughs as you got off of him. Tucking him back in his boxers.

You wrapped your arm around his neck as he rested his head on your breast humming contently.

“Love you”

“Love you more” He replied on his way to a dreamless restful night after a long time.

***

You had never been a huge fan of Christmas. It was all just a capitalist corporate ploy to get people to buy useless crap.

You used to sulk in your bed being a bit jealous of everyone who got to have a merry christmas. Full of presents with people they love. You never thought you would get to experience it. Until now.

It was the first of December. You and Steve woke up early to buy a Christmas tree. It took a while to get one best suited for your apartment but you were happy with it. It was small and perfect for both of you.

You had bought some ornaments to decorate it. Unbeknownst to you Steve had got some more over a month ago. He was that excited about your first Christmas together.

Your feet were tucked into a warm fuzzy blanket while you sipped on your hot cocoa. It was a hard but rewarding task. You finally managed to get your tree up.

You had jokingly bought some red, white and blue themed balls. He rolled his eyes when he saw them but you knew he secretly loved them.

He plopped down beside you. Smiling at the tree then staring at you.

“What’s up?” you asked him.

“Well I had an idea”

“Uh-oh that’s never a good thin..”

“Since you’ve made my Christmas so happy” He interrupted you “I’m giving you twenty-five presents for twenty-five days of Christmas”

“Steve you don’t have to”

“I finally have a girl I can spoil. I’m sorry sweetheart but you can’t stop me” He waved you off. It was true there was no stopping him when he set his mind on something.

“Here’s uh... here’s the first one” he said bashfully handing you a paper bag.

You smiled at him. You didn’t have it in you to break his heart. You opened the bag pulling out a white dress. You got a good look at it once it was out. It was beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen.

“This...”

“Yeah. I saw you looking at it the other day. You’ll look beautiful in it” He said as you inspected the material running your hands through the sheer net “It’s perfect actually. There’s a party. It’s a white christmas them? I’m not sure. I don’t understand half the things Tony comes up with.”

You had never met Tony or any of his teammates. He had talked about introducing you over Christmas. Which you were excited for until now. You weren’t one to wear make up or pretty dresses. Either you didn’t have the money for it or you didn’t have the time.

“I’d love to meet them” You finally spoke up. He would have to introduce someone like you to his amazing friends. “But this isn’t for me” You tried your best to keep your voice from cracking.

“Is it the wrong size?” He asked.

He remembered Clint telling him to never buy clothes for a woman. 'If it’s too big she’ll assume you think she’s fat. If it’s too small she’ll assume you want her to lose weight.’ He should’ve listened.

You chuckled at him blinking your tears away. “No it’s probably the right size. But it’s not for someone like me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked subtly pulling you into him to comfort you.

“It’s for beautiful girls. I know I know you think I’m beautiful” you shut him up before he could get a word out “But I’m not graceful or beautiful. Are you sure you want me to meet your friends?” you let out a humorless dry laugh.

“Yes I’m sure. You know why?” He asked to which you shook your head no “Because you’re the only one for me. You’re my best girl. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”

“Steve” You whined covering your face. He always annoyed you with his gush of compliments and his love.

“You don’t have to wear that if you don’t like” He continued.

“Well I can’t say no now” You went back to looking at the dress. It was beautiful. You could pull it off. “Just so you know you’re the only one for me too” You pecked his lips your lips lingering close to his “Promise me this is forever?”

“I promise” He pulled you in to give you a proper kiss.

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muzzleroars · 4 years

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Cake’s Bad End AU Part I - Akira

Here it is, the posts that will finally outline the events of my Bad End AU! I’m not a writer in any sense, but with so many people enjoying the content I create for this AU and several people asking about it, I wanted to write up a synopsis of the events that take place and, more simply, what this AU even is. This is my idea of what happens when Akira takes Yaldabaoth’s deal on Christmas Eve and all of its implications, so I hope everyone enjoys it and that it puts the pieces for my AU in context. There will be three parts: Akira, The Thieves, and The Holy Grail. This is Part I: Akira, which details the beginnings of the Bad End and what becomes of Akira under Yaldabaoth’s rule. (3,008 words)

(TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse and some descriptions of illness/pain)

The AU starts, of course, with Akira taking Yaldabaoth’s deal to return reality to normal and allow the Phantom Thieves to gain fame and glory. Akira is at a breaking point by now in the story – only a month ago he was badly tortured in an interrogation, leaving him permanently scarred physically and mentally with no time to process that pain; he watched Goro sacrifice his life for himself and the Thieves, losing him when they may have just closed the chasm between them, Goro gone before he could live a free life; and now he’s lost the rest of the Thieves one by one in front of him, ripped from reality and, as far as Akira knows, gone from existence. All of this comes after the responsibility of the Thieves, of the confidants, has weighed on his shoulders for months, the lost game almost causing his execution carried out by comrades, the betrayal of Igor, who was supposed to be the one guiding him, saving him. Akira snaps under that pressure in this moment, he can’t keep fighting for a public that doesn’t even want him after they’ve now so thoroughly forgotten what he and his friends risked their lives for time and again. They are ungrateful. They are undeserving. He wants his friends back, he wants Goro back, and now the public has lost his sympathy, so in this one moment, he no longer cares for them. He may be the Trickster, the great and mysterious leader of the Phantom Thieves, but he’s also a sixteen year old boy who’s now lost everything because of the public he worked so hard to shake from their apathy. He trades their free will for his own gain, a way of biting back at them in pain, in hateful selfishness that he deserves at least once...and the world reopens.

Arsène is rent from Akira’s heart, stolen from him and he’s hollowed out, his will of rebellion gone but replaced with incredible power. The process causes him to black out but when he comes to, he’s back in the attic of Leblanc, quickly grabbing at his phone to see unread messages from his friends. Every text sounds normal, none of them mentioning a thing about the Holy Grail or anything that happened in the Depths of Mementos. However...Morgana is gone. Akira is unnerved, but the relief he feels from all of his other friends being safe seems to blunt the emotion and, for a short time, Morgana’s absence seems to be the only thing wrong with the world. School goes on, all of his friends are safe and sound, and their work as Thieves continues without concern about Mementos or changing the public. It makes Akira feel vindicated and to his further relief, his friends never bring up Morgana, the concern about his whereabouts quickly fading to the back of Akira’s mind. The lack of concern causes its own twinge of worry, but the Thieves begin to pick up more and more work to keep Akira well occupied. He feels more fulfilled than he ever has with each job too, a wave of righteousness crashing over him with greater intensity with every heart stolen. The feeling is wonderful at first, but soon the thoughts, the emotions stemming from their work become increasingly intrusive, taking over in a way Akira can’t control and is terrified of. Akira had always been meticulous with their work, but now every thought begins to revolve around it, falling off in his studies, falling out of regular contact with his friends unless they’re traveling to the Metaverse, and all he thinks of is greater efficiency, finding new targets, and doing whatever Yaldabaoth asks of him. His love for their work and his god become fanatical without his input, but what disturbs him the most is how little he seems to care for his friends now. He tries to force it, tries to see them more, hang out with them more, put all of his focus on them, but more and more often his mind thinks of stealing more hearts, of how he’s wasting his time whenever he isn’t working for Yaldabaoth’s great design.

Akira’s friends begin to pick up on his odd and absent behavior, but Akira always brushes it off despite his words and actions growing more concerning. He pushes them into increasingly hectic schedules, running them into the ground and when that still isn’t enough, Akira starts to visit Mementos on his own, trying to feed the beast that demands more, more, more, always more. Here the blackouts begin, Akira losing time from hours to days and almost always waking up in Mementos where he stays overnight to steal more hearts. The shadows mill around him oddly, not attacking and not running as he repeats Yaldabaoth’s praises to himself. Still, he occasionally leaves in order to rest and to eat, Sojiro and the Thieves demanding answers that only produce evasive responses, Akira just claiming he had business to take care of and all is well. But the Thieves know dozens of changes of heart are occurring without the group as a whole, they know it’s Akira doing this, but being near him has become oddly oppressive, and something about the way he speaks to them or even just carries himself seems to shut down dissent regardless of the Thieves’ worries. They can’t explain it, but they find themselves arguing less and less, falling in line and finding their worry and even anger only coming to them when they’re away from him. It’s something they begin to discuss among themselves, creating a separate group chat free of Akira and full of concern, fear, and increasing hopelessness.

But one day, finally, Akira blacks out once more and travels deep into Mementos, lost in a rapturous fervor where he is found by Goro. Goro’s been exploring the Metaverse himself, knowing that his own life is wrong, that he must have died that day on Shido’s ship, and with the odd, altered mood of the public, he figures the two events must be related. He initially wishes to contact Akira about it but, unable to find him in reality, he assumes Akira is carrying out similar fact-finding missions in the Metaverse. However, upon spotting him in Mementos, he’s disturbed by the unhurried gait, the shadows that leave him alone or, even more bizarrely, follow along behind him with no intent to ambush him, and the fact that he can hear him muttering to himself when he comes in close. Upon confronting him, Goro is met with a gaze that seems unfocused, the sharp and intelligent spark in Akira’s eyes gone as he rambles almost incoherently about some god. He talks about his divine work, his chosen purpose, how Goro should be grateful he’s been brought back...Goro almost believes this can’t be Akira, unsettled by rhetoric that sounds like Shido’s but is somehow so much more unhinged and unwell, the exhaustion evident on his features even as he returns a constant, vacant smile to Goro. He attempts to force Akira back to the entrance but Akira vehemently refuses, becoming aggressive and dangerously so when Goro attempts to push it and, being exhausted himself, he reluctantly retreats to await him in reality...but Akira never shows.

Instead, he has stretched himself too thin, gone far into the Depths, too far to escape again on his own when he snaps out of his fugue. A voice calls him in deeper though, hurry, hurry – he knows he’s too weak to travel on foot all the way back out again, so he chases after it into the shrine of the Holy Grail. There, Yaldabaoth offers him shelter, safety to rest and recuperate...but it will take too long, and humans aren’t meant to last in the Metaverse, especially ones too weak to maintain their transformation. So Akira is offered the elixir of the Holy Grail, a panacea Yaldabaoth tells him will heal his wounds and hasten his recovery so that he may return home safely. Akira is skeptical, he wishes he didn’t have to decide this on his own...but in his pain, in his exhaustion, in his one wish to be home in the warm attic of Leblanc (in his fried mind, already half controlled by Yaldabaoth), he agrees and takes the elixir. The effects are immediate and violent, a spike in his chest that blooms across his entire body and shakes him into the tips of his fingers, to the core of his bones and rattles in his skull until it feels like his very life must come pouring out and he collapses into darkness.

The process is agonizing and it is long, Akira fading in and out of consciousness in a place he doesn’t recognize but can’t properly process. He feels sick, an overwhelming malaise as he sweats in fevers that never seem to break while his memories fracture and splinter in ways that make his head swim. He fights blindly and pitifully against more doses of elixir, brought to him by shadows in the shapes of angels...soon all he can do is try to call out for his friends, the ones becoming harder and harder to remember, their names and faces growing obscure and faded. Eventually, he falls into a still sleep, the pain piercing into an otherwise blank nothingness, the angels charged with his care finding him on the edge of death. They tell Yaldabaoth he will not survive, that a human is simply too weak, but Yaldabaoth tells them to continue administering the elixir so long as Akira does still survive. It is in Yaldabaoth’s nature to leave nothing half-done, yet he too begins to doubt the Akira will awaken again as days go by in the Depths and he never moves, only taking shallow breaths with thready heartbeats sustaining him...Yaldabaoth considers what sort of funeral he can give him.

But while the elixir does ultimately end his human life, burning through his body and stopping his heart, Akira does wake from the coma it’s put him in, albeit irreversibly altered. His hair’s been shocked a brilliant, iridescent white and his skin is pallid, his eyes blank but opalescent. He carries an ethereal beauty, yet it is sickly, skin flushed as though with a fever and tinted with a pallor, his ghostly body thinned and almost vanishing, the scar on his chest an angry red that burns sorely against his paleness of form. His movements are at first unsteady, but the angels assist him in going to see his father, the memories of his friends, his human life, his entire identity wiped clean and he now only knows himself as The Son. He bows before Yaldabaoth and he is bestowed with a scythe, although his father tells him he must continue to rest before he goes to work. True to form, The Son argues with him, saying he feels more than well enough to work, but as he has only just been created and Yaldabaoth sends him back to his bed.

The Son is a being of the Metaverse and, as he understands it, is a creation of Yaldabaoth’s meant to mirror humans but is superior to them and so must act as a bridge. Yaldabaoth has no recourse to interact directly with humanity but The Son may act as his proxy, residing in the Metaverse to reap the hearts of disobedient shadows and reform those that seek an escape from their suffering. With his creation a great cathedral rises in the Depths, clashing with the inky blackness of Mementos in a dazzling bright white that acts as a beacon to lost shadows, great droves of them congregating at its gates in hopes of being let in. The Son resides here, his throne sat high on the sanctuary that looks out over a seemingly endless nave, the floors constantly teeming with restless and desperate shadows seeking his forgiveness. He is often absent, however, the shadows offering their prayers to the empty seat as he roams the maze that makes up Mementos to seek out strayed sheep or entirely departs to fall a palace on his own. He needs no calling card, those he seeks out feeling increasing guilt, remorse, and terror as he carves his path through their palaces until he reaches their shadow to reap them, his scythe tearing through an errant soul and producing the treasure for him to take. Upon his return to his cathedral, the shadows clamor around him to receive his blessing, begging for his touch and his approval for it means an immediate place in the shrine of the Holy Grail (but never laying hands on him themselves, for it is a sin). The Son’s third eye sees the hearts of the believers in his church, showing many of them still too sullied to receive his hand but, should he find one fully committed to the word of his father, he will reach out to bless them. Outside of this, he often goes to sleep on his throne, the shadows continuing to pray to him quietly once he closes his eyes as it is considered a great sin to wake The Son, who works so hard for their God and who is the only one that can bring them to salvation.

The Son sometimes departs from the main hall of the cathedral, however, retreating to private quarters if he needs more sleep or simply some quiet. The angels wait on him there, speaking with him and bringing him more elixir if he’s feeling too overly drained from his work. The Son has been known to engage in human hobbies as well, prone to reading, crafting, and drawing, even sometimes writing a series of disconnected words or paragraphs (answers to worksheets he had in school, spilling out with no meaning) before he grows bored as he doesn’t even know why he chooses to engage in such frivolous tasks. However, he is interested in humanity despite their flaws and he envies them in some ways, aware of the myriad cognitions that impact him on a daily basis with thoughts and visions he can’t understand. His poorly pantomimed hobbies give him a sense of connection to them, he thinks, but his father counts on him to be better than them and he wouldn’t want such fascinations tainting him with their sin.

However, The Son is not wholly content...occasional memories resurface, broken and confused, but with them he distinctly feels how weak and wrong he is, the dead heart in his chest wrenching and forcing tears from his eyes before the agonizing visions fade and he forgets why he was crying at all. In these moments, he sees snapshots of himself but different, dark hair and dark clothes, glasses hiding sharp eyes and something screams that was real, that’s who he is and how he should be, and it’s often these visions that send him into hiding in his private quarters, away from prying eyes of shadows always watching him. And there’s other faces in those memories, not shadows but real human beings in the sunlight (he’s never experienced sunlight, it’s too bright for his eyes used to only using his second sight in the dark, dingy halls of Mementos), loud voices and shining eyes, shouting a name...a name he can’t hear but they look at him, smiling, laughing, memories and thoughts not from outside but from within. He feels it, these visions are his, they are not intrusive cognitions but instead memories, memories of a life he never had.

He often speaks to his father in these times, asking him questions about the nature of humanity and eventually about himself, feeling something is missing about his understanding of his own existence. In fact, he speaks with his father fairly regularly, finding the angels rather dull and too subservient to be of much use as conversation partners...and shadows are even worse. Yaldabaoth teaches him a great many things and even serves to allay his anxieties, with The Son harboring a deep reverence and affection for his father and for Yaldabaoth’s part, he too finds himself attached to his child. His attachment is difficult to define, but he experiences some amount of worry for him and he begins to engage in more conversation with him as well as reward him for doing well with his reapings. Ultimately, although Yaldabaoth does not experience human attachment, he defines his reality as richer having The Son being a part of it and so he wishes to protect him and nurture his growth (within Yaldabaoth’s parameters).

However, The Son is not in full agreement with his father – while arguments between them don’t occur often, they happen far too frequently for Yaldabaoth’s taste. Ostensibly, The Son should be fully under his control and yet he comes to him with prying or frantic questions about himself, he defends the sins of humanity and criticizes Yaldabaoth’s harshness toward them. He can grow combative, resentful, and even aggressive, and while he does generally acquiesce to Yaldabaoth’s assertions, he sometimes finds himself growing increasingly irate instead, burning with a righteous fury against a father he should follow with unquestioning faith. In those moments, the memories come back to him in sharper focus and painful intensity, overwhelming him with a wealth of emotion normally so absent from The Son’s composure. He fights back against Yaldabaoth in hysterics, his emotions tearing him apart as he makes claims and spouts words even he can’t understand, all taken from the pieces of those thoughts he thinks are his. In response, Yaldabaoth chooses to subdue him while always stating it’s for his own good, convincing him to drink his elixir if he can or using physical means to force him into submission before he has him drink. The elixir will always quiet him, locking out those memories and making him forget his anger, forget his objections...and truthfully, The Son welcomes it more often than not. He wants to forget and live in peace with his father, berating himself for his sin and imperfection.

#FINALLY AM I RIGHT #ppl have asked about a master post for all of this SO #this will be a full plot synopsis which i broke into 3 parts for ease of reading #it's...long for a synopsis and it's making me CONSIDER a fic or at least drabbles #i'm not a good writer tho so WE'LL SEE....#i just had no clue i actually had a full start to finish story here honestly lmao #p5 #akira kurusu #yaldabaoth #bad end #bad end synopsis

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

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Oh my god, I don’t know how I came up with this idea but one time I was playing a co-op domain that consisted of a party of Childe, Keqing, Kaeya, and Diluc. And for some reason, an idea came to mind.

What if these characters actually knew each other?

It went downhill from there, it went from Keqing babysits three grown men to Keqing reevaluating their own morale for them to me and my friend just labelling the idea as “Keqing’s disastrous and far from desired harem”. The idea spiraled in our heads, totally rent free, that I had to stop grinding domains for a while and just think.

Okay, hear me out.

Just— Just think of their interactions, albeit that their interactions may start roughly given that all of them have personalities that have rough ends, I believe that with effort, it will work out. Childe and Diluc would often disagree on most conversation topics, Kaeya would be... well, Kaeya, on a Kaeya-classified mission to annoy the fuck out of Diluc while the red-headed man deals with the Fatui brute who apparently was on a journey together with one of the neighboring nation’s chosen rulers.

It’s hardly even a harem! It’s just her being done with all these dramatic men’s own agendas and while it make not make a lot of sense, I fell completely in love with the idea. There are also a lot of things they would struggle to understand, like why Diluc just can’t let go of the past no matter how much he grows tolerant of the Knights, or why Childe chooses to keep on a facade of a toy seller just for his beloved brother, and many more!

God, I could go on about this for ages jdncjsjxjsmz— Anyways, taking all of that aside, happy belated new year and hopefully your blog doesn’t suffer again because it’s literally my consistent source of serotonin. Always remember that we love you and hope that you stay in good health! ... while also feeding us with content, hehe

Jokes aside, please always remember that this isn’t a job and you’re free to take breaks whenever you feel like it’s necessary. Thank you if you manage to read all of this and again, belated happy new year!

Yo, pop off anon! This is great!

I really really wish that genshin could mix more characters together and I know they just started and story continuity or whatever but it would be really nice. We do have voicelines so in a sense they do know each other but dammit, I want more food;;

I would read/watch the shit out of “Keqing’s disastrous and far from desired harem”. It lowkey reminds me of that fgo comic of Osakabehime, where she thought she was gonna start a harem, when really she’s just watching the mc go through theirs.

Keqing gives off major “I was not paid enough for this fuckery” vibes. You can not convince me otherwise. I think throwing 2 brain cell Zhongli [who is secretly the only one with braincells in the group] into that mess would be 11/10. I’ve been there before, trying to sleep and then at 3am I get slapped in the face with a 190k word crack/angst fic (which ahem, may or may have not happened with Xiao).

I’m so glad you have faith in them because I’m imagining they last for two hours on a good day before war paint is brought out. Childe is such a clown bastard, god I hate him, he would be the second Kaeya for Diluc but without the braincells. His only braincell is fighting. Lowkey, I actually really like Childe and Kaeya interactions that people have done, I just wanna see the Team Rocket antics. (If someone has not drawn that I will RIOT. Bonus points if Zhongli is Meowth). Poor Diluc popping 20 aspirin for his headache of having to deal with Kaeya and Childe which just ends up with Diluc trying to commit manslaughter and get away with it. No one will find out if everyone is dead.

Poor Keqing and her first impressions of seeing all these beauties only to realize, wait I’m dealing with actual children. Remember that Kaeya and Diluc wine talk where they were being petty in front of these two random guys? With Venti in the background. Pretty much the same idea except it’s Keqing with the most “are you serious right now? Right in front of my salad?”. Don’t worry anon, I love the idea too! Honestly, any “in the lore we don’t know each other or we secretly hate each other but OUTSIDE of the lore it’s a constant fever dream” is just mwah 💕💕 Having their soft and vulnerable moments with each other which brings them closer as a group is just ahh I love it. I absolutely adore this.

I can literally feel your excitement anon and I’m LIVING for it. Yo, if you ever think on this more PLEASE share it with us (if you want to of course). We need more interactions, give me hades level of interactions, PLEASE I BEG OF YOU.

Oh happy be-lated new year to you too 🎉🎉So far tumblr has been alright but I pray it doesn’t get snapped again. Aww you’re so sweet I’m glad this is brings you some good vibes. This ask has brought me to new heights of serotonin haha. I love you too, oh my god I’m actually so soft rn fuck. I hope you’re all safe as well^^ [don’t worry I gotchu on the content]

Of course, this was some good food hehe

#yo this #im about to slap the whiteboard right now #this is some peak content right here #i love this so much you have no idea #also this anon #adorable #i love you #im not even gonna put a haha just kidding I actually adore you #my skin is clear and the crops are growing #super duper big mwah #lovely anon #anon ask

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blueseakelp · 3 years

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✨childhood storytime✨ (because i do have memories. shut uP i DO.)

backstory for this: i was thinking about taob zuko and his leg and this memory came to mind AND i decided to share it with the entire internet to get it to stop the rent free-ness (content warning for like burns and shit, i don’t think it’s graphic but tell me if i’m wrong)

alright now. picture this. l o n g summer roadtrip (weeks of camping) with one (and i can’t emphasize this point enough) EXTREMELY dysfunctional family. parents are constantly fighting, an three kids and an infant are along for the ride, eldest child was just extremely dumb and lost their phone (who gives an eight year old a fucking phone that was a terrible idea), and they’re in an entirely different fucking state than where they live. (side note: don’t let your future husband drag you along on a camping road trip after you’ve just given birth if he’s not gonna fucking help with your four kids. no i’m not bitter for my mother because she refuses to be what are you talking about)

NOW, shitty fucking car, stage left. it’s already broken down and been towed ONCE this trip, but Parental Units decide that we can make it fucking work. after all, we only have about half of the trip left, it’ll be okay, right? wrong. car breaks down again. tensions are already high and now we’re in fucking fresno, a shitty californian town with the interest factor of the bottom of a boot and the heat of a goddamn oven.

ANYWAYS, we do slightly illegal shit as *fun family bonding* (which is an oxymoron) yadda yadda yadda it entails mostly just riding in the car as it’s being towed, ducking down to keep out of sight, it’s whatever. fast forward to the car dealership. mother is fucking stressed at this point in the trip, constantly taking care of four kids while my father’s off ??? being indecisive and/or a piece of shit probably. and now OH SHIT they have to buy a car because ours is past the point of no return. it’s now good for parts only. we do the whole thing, pick out a flashy and sexy (old and used) minivan, and now it’s time for negotiations because i’m pretty sure we can’t actually afford the price of this car. maybe we can. (money is perpetually tight until we fast forward five years and the Divorce happens and guess who’s making a shit ton more money than we thought?? ding ding it’s Father Dearest!! guess mother and the kids could’ve afforded those new clothes and foods instead of scrounging and saving all that time :)))))) *insert the “it’s free real estate” meme except “it’s financial abuse”*)

SO we’ve got a family of six looking very homeless with all of their luggage in the middle of a car dealership in fresno, hoping we don’t look desperate so we can buy the fucking car and get back to washington before school starts. i don’t remember how it happened that i, an eight year old child, wound up babysitting my six year old brother in an unfamiliar place with no supervision whatsoever, but my best guess is that my mom had a large dose of “I’m So Fucking Tired Of Four Children” juice that particular morning and my dad honestly did not notice and/or give two shits.

scene is set. the eight year old and the six year old, in the little dealership lounge thing-y, strangers milling about, and either ‘ice age’ or ‘kung fu panda’ playing on the tv screen. eight year old me decides, “hey i’m going to go make myself some dealership!hot chocolate!” as one does. i do, and spoiler alert, it’s scalding. my memory is foggy as shit in general so i actually barely remember most of what i’m telling you (*sings nicely* jigsAw puzzle, we’re putting the picture together) anyways, what i think happens next is that i get distracted and spill the pretty much boiling hot chocolate on myself (i just realized this is todoroki vibes as shit except to myself and the burn isn’t as severe. so actually not really nevermind).

now, MY first (paraphrased) thought, being the fucked up child and product of my environment that i am, was “oh shit. i can’t tell mom and dad or else they’ll be mad at me that i did a bad job at watching my brother.” can you start to see where my unhealthy mindset comes from? i’ve Been this way. my second thought is probably “i’m glad my pants are tan so that the hot chocolate blends in” which like. it did not and im pretty astounded because i don’t think my parents ever noticed lmao.

everything happens, i grab a TON of napkins to clean up the spill, i ignore the pain of burning skin, i don’t remember how bad it hurt or if i cried but the answer is probably yes to both, and i try to do it as sneakily as possible so none of the adults in the room or my brother notice. mission successful, no one has called me on my bullshit, i’m in the clear. i plan on keeping this a Forever Secret so my parents don’t find out how irresponsible i am, and continue to suffer through what im now aware was probably a pretty severe burn, until it heals. i never treated it or anything, so it’s kind of a wonder it didn’t get infected and kill me. wow, so cool.

to end the story, i don’t actually remember ever telling my mother about this, although she knows somehow? i was really surprised that she did, but one day i was wearing shorts and she just randomly brought it up to my aunt. outside of that, i have no memory of discussing it. (probably at one point she saw the massive burn on my leg and asked me where it was from, is my best guess of how she found out) my father, if he knows (doubtful), has never brought it up. the burn now is pretty faded, but it’s also been the better part of a decade so i’d expect that. the only reason i know any of these memories are real is because i have the scar to prove it, so that’s fun for my brain. for all i know, i could’ve blocked out almost the entirety of what really happened so maybe i shouldn’t take my word for it. at least it makes for a fun and interesting story.

OH ALSO I JUST REMEMBERED the burn was pretty brown-ish when it first happened so eight year old me thought i got permanently stained by the hot chocolate for a little while there slfjlsjdfldhfslh

so yeah this was one of like two off the top of my head stories about how i probably could’ve died in worse circumstances from my own inability to seek help but did Not. also, just another example of my capacity of secrets, because i have a Lot and none of them are the fun kind.

#long post #burns #okay wow this got a lot more oomph than i though i was just trying to be funny dont sur me #*sue #if anyone actually read this please i’m begging you there are nice things to do #read a book love

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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Echoes of You

Author’s Note: This is from a request sent in to my 500 Followers Challenge. I’ve included it below... I did have fun with it! As always, please feel free to re-blog, share, and comment! Also, I’m accepting tag list requests and story requests! *The GIF is perfect and I want to thank the original creator/ poster!* Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Summary/ Request: “Loki is badly hurt on a mission and the reader has to make some sort of deal with a dark magical entity to save him. The price she has to pay is that everyone she knows is going to forget she ever existed. She takes the deal and tries to build a new life away from the avengers, however she and Loki keep running into each other and he's very drawn to her. After a lot of pestering, she agrees to go on a date with him on the condition that he is going to leave her alone after that. Their date goes great and they're almost about to have sex, but she stops him because she thinks he would've never wanted her if he actually had his memories. Obviously he knows though, they both confess their feelings and it ends on passionate, rough smut. Hope that's not too much and you have fun with it :)” Warnings: Battle scenes of the MCU variety, talk of blood/ death, angst and SMUT

"LOKI!"

Time freezes in that screamed second.

You feel yourself running, feet sliding in the gritty sand beneath your boots, desperate. He is impossibly far away but you can make it. You have to.

Skidding into the gravel on your knees, you shout his name as you watch him crumple. He's gone pale, limp, boneless in your arms. There's blood, lots of it, too much to stop on your own. It flows freely, drenching you down to your skin, warm and sticky. There’s no way to stem the flood.

In your dreams you always catch him in time. Keeping him off the cold ground, hugging his lean body to yours, ignoring the others as they fight around you. His twinkling eyes flutter but they stay open, struggling to focus on you. You watch his soft lips part, they form words, sounds that never reach you in the vacuum of your panic.

"Hush… it's ok… I'm here. I got you." Gurgling platitudes gush from you but there's no way to know if he hears them. A smile, young and sweet spreads across his unbearably handsome face. Using his last measure of strength, Loki strokes your cheek as you press your hot lips to his too cool skin.

You wake up wailing, the pillow beneath you wet. Honestly, it's never dry, not anymore. Because every night you try to save Loki. Every night he speaks soundlessly to you. And every morning you wake up to reality.

Dawn's dark hides you and your pain. You let the loss of Loki roll over you. Pulling you under in a rip tide of shuddering sobs, drowning you with memories of what you had before and what you have now. Swallowing that hard knot of agony, bitter and jagged, your crying steadied then dried out after a few minutes.

This new existence, this new life, was lonely. Awake now, well before the sun, you pushed out of bed and geared up for a run without much enthusiasm. When you couldn't ease your mind you took it out on your body.

Stepping onto the dim sidewalk you stretched just a little. You wanted to punish your subconscious, your wayward brain, not tear a hamstring. Setting off with a sigh, your feet slapping the pavement in an even staccato, you tried to turn your mind off.

On the quiet streets of your new city, one you were struggling to make feel like home, you wanted to outrun the past. Eager to put distance between you and all that had come before, forcing your legs to go further, faster, you ran by yourself in the shadows. There was no one to disturb you, not at this ungodly hour. Not that anyone would. You used to be a SHIELD agent, one who looked mad at the world, which you were. So you ran on, giving no thought to direction or neighborhood, welcoming any and all risk if it meant peace of mind.

Most days the sweat and strain were enough to calm your demons. By running your body down, your mind would let go too. Not today. Today, your dream, like a well directed film, played on a loop in your head. Each scene was vivid, real, raw. And not true.

---

"You come here freely?"

Hitching your chin defiantly, "Yes."

The ethereal being before you seemed to float on a crimson cloud, too beautiful to be benevolent, the aura around her dusky skin crackling violet. Part sorceress, part dark queen, she was your last hope. A final step you might take to keep Loki alive.

Slinking snake like, she sidled to your side, "I know what brings you here, mortal. I know what you want."

"Then you know I need help. Your help." You weren't begging. At least not yet, anyway. But the smell of desperation curled around you, black and rotten, regardless.

"You are not the one in need. Odin's adopted boy… the prince. He is dying. Is it not so?"

Her voice was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Strong, soft and sweet, the witch's words echoed in the close quarters of her stony temple. Swirling around you in the rouge red ribbons of her eternal energy, she did not wait for your reply. "What is it to you, child? The death of a Jotun foundling can mean but little to a human. And yet, you come to me willingly. Why?"

Hot tears formed, threatening to splash, scalding your cheeks. Your breath left your body as a gutted groan tore the words from your deepest soul, "I love him."

"Love. Such a human emotion." You felt her then, the physicality of her form, as she brushed an errant tear from your face. The enchantress stilled, her beautiful dark skinned face emerging in front of you, scrutinizing your expression, reading your pain.

Questioning you quietly, "You say that you love the youngest of Odin's sons."

"I do."

"The magic you ask for, it carries a hefty price."

Hope at the thought of her assistance made you boisterous. "Anything! I will pay any price. Twice over, if it keeps Loki alive."

Glowing plum colored, her gaze took you in, measuring you and your resolve. "Your sacrifice will be great, make no mistake. It will test the love you claim to feel for this demi-god."

What did you care of sacrifices if it kept Loki alive? Was there a price too high for the life of your love? Anger flashed through you, frustrated and flustered, "I heard you the first time. Will you aid me or not?"

"So cross, so eager." Silver laughter filled the cavernous space but was short lived. "You do not know the full cost of your desires and yet... you are in a rush to see them come to fruition. Child, I can do what you ask. I will do it, if you agree. In return... no one will remember you. Only this will purchase Loki's life."

"What?"

The Sorceress took your hand, testing its weight, turning your palm up. "You heard me. If this is truly what you want… to keep Loki alive, then your life… your history will be erased."

Gulping hard, understanding hitting you like a freight train, "My life for his? Is that it?"

Violet eyes bore into yours, purple orbs that fill your vision, unblinking. "No… you will not die, little mortal. It is far worse than that. You will live, but you will live in isolation. You will be forgotten by Loki… by your family… by your friends. You will meet them as strangers. They will carry on without you."

"But Loki will live?" He had to, you had come too far to fail your God now.

"Yes. Will you be able to?"

"Me? I don't understand what you're asking me."

"Will you be able to have a life without the man you say you love?"

Could you? There had been no one like Loki in your life before. Smart and strong, sarcastic and cutting, tender and kind. Loki was all the things you needed in a partner and he made you better at the same time. Taming you, just a little, being loved by Loki had softened some of your rough edges. Would it be easy to know he was walking around, enjoying life, but not be a part of it? No. But how else could you honor the man who had given you so much?

With a straining voice, "Loving him, having been loved by him, will have to be enough to satisfy my soul. There is no other option for me."

Nodding solemnly, content at your knowledge of the bargain, the crimson conjurer drew a symbol on the pad of your hand. Watching her with widening eyes, she pulled a gossamer green thread from the center of your palm. A string of memories erasing you in order to allow Loki to survive.

"It is longer than I would've thought, deeper too." And you knew what she meant instinctively because your heart pinched as her hands gathered more and more of your time with Loki to her. Dragging him out of your life with a sharp throb. When it was over the witch had a skein of your history, emerald green and glossy, which she evaporated into a wisp of smoke.

You had a small six pointed star shaped scar in the center of your hand. It was your sole token of the life you and Loki had shared. That and the memories that you alone carried.

"It is done." There was finality in her words, a dismissive quality, and for the first time in her presence you were frightened. Not of her, but of the new world you were facing.

Solemnly, you bowed your head, "Thank you."

"We shall see, human. We shall see."

---

By the time you return home, soaked with sweat, you're tired but feeling more like yourself. It's a relief to feel the night's pain fade enough for you to shower and dress for work. It's not a career. But it is just enough to almost pay rent and buy food.

Working with people, although frustrating at times, really does keep the white light of your emptiness away. Besides, the store offered a discount on clothes, which helped, and there was always something physical to be done. Lifting boxes, moving racks, hauling trash. Anything to keep you thoughtlessly busy. Like you did everyday, you threw yourself into the job, mindlessly. It was a life raft of sorts, a buoy keeping you afloat, a thing to cling to while trying not to let the weight of your past drag you down.

Listening to the consumer safe playlist, getting into a rhythm, you bobbed your head as your folded t-shirts. Your co-workers hated restocking, rehanging, straightening the racks. So, naturally that's what you were doing, lost in your own little world.

"I really don't see why we have to be here, brother." Something about that voice made you pause. Haughty and high handed, you could swear that it was…

"Jane has a birthday, brother. I will not forget it."

"Then, for the love of Odin, bring her some lovely Asgardian silks. Jewelry in gold or silver. Or better yet, take her home, seduce her soundly. Do anything but buy that hideous sweater."

"It's not hideous. You know nothing of Midgardian fashion."

"Me? I know nothing? Dear brother, this suit is Armani. That is designer. That means something."

"It means you spent way too much coin, Loki."

Turning quickly you moved closer to the men, still listening, still in disbelief. Peeking at the mismatched pair through a clothing rack, pushing two furry sweaters apart, your heart was racing. Stunned, you recognized the strong back of the tall, broad blonde. When he moved toward another display of shits your jaw fell open. Loki was here! Not five feet away!

"Bah! I don't see her size." Thor sighed in frustration, the offending rack of clothes wobbling with the force of his displeasure.

Loki, picking lint from his sleeve, "Find a clerk… ask for the awful thing in Jane's size so we can get out of this place." Lifting his piercing blue eyes, he spied you, trying to slip away unnoticed, "You! Hello? Yes… can you help us?"

It takes you a second to register that Loki, your Loki, is addressing you. Stiffly, you straighten up, your eyes rising to his inquisitive azure ones. They snap with a vitality that was missing when you saw him last.

A cloud passes over his gaze. Shadows of recognition, maybe? Or is that just what you want to see?

"Um… sure. What… uh, what do you need, sir?" You sound like a robot. Cringing at the put on voice you're using, awkward and uncomfortable, you smile at Thor.

Loki steps closer, brushing past his brother, not quite in your space but close enough for you to smell his skin. A familiar combination of leather and vanilla, sugar and spice, reaches out to you. Your breath hitches at the nearness of him. Memories on the tip of your tongue.

He's holding a fuzzy sweater, one the color of spicy mustard, about to hand it to you when his head tilts. "Do… do I know you?"

Heat climbs your face. Yes. Yes, Loki. You know me.�� You know me in a way no one else could ever know me. You know the sound of my sobs and the sigh of my satisfaction. Why I love the smell of the snow and hate lima beans. You know me.

And I know you. I know the strength of your character. The depth of your love. Which thoughts haunt you, songs your mother sang over your crib, poems written for no one else to read. Oh yes, I know you.

But what you say is, "Me? No… nope. No. We've… I mean, no. You don't know me." Kicking yourself mentally, the verbal diarrhea couldn't be stopped, and now Loki's surveying you even more closely.

"Are you certain? It's just… I could swear that I know you." For the first time since meeting Loki you hear uncertainty in his voice. It's almost enough to weaken your resolve, tell him all of it, even if it's in the middle of The Loft.

"Have… have you been in the shop before? I uh, I work a lot." Looking anywhere but at the handsome man from your nightmares, you settle on the offending sweater, trying to seem like an eager employee not a stuttering mess.

"No." His smile widened, the natural flirt in him coming out to play, "We have never set foot in this place."

Your thoughts jumbled. Unprepared for facing Loki, unsure of how to handle seeing him again, you focused on the top Thor wanted to give Jane. "Oh… well, maybe I just look like someone you used to know? Um… what size did you say?"

Thor, watching the interaction between you and Loki, was just happy to get back into the conversation. "Yes. Size 2 please, my good woman."

Casting Loki a side eyed glance, chuckling at Thor, you made your way to the stockroom. Stay calm, you willed yourself. Keeping your back straight, your head level and your breathing even, you walked towards the back. Your heart? That jerk was pumping overtime. As soon as you are gone, Thor rounds on his younger brother, "She likes you, Loki! And, she is rather cute."

Rolling his eyes with a groan, "Cute? She is far more beautiful than that, brother."

Wagging his golden brows playfully, the God of Thunder teased, "You should take her on a date. To dinner. She might actually say yes!"

"It's creepy. No woman wants to be courted while they're at work. Although…" Looking longingly at the “Employees Only” sign on the door you had disappeared into, Loki sighed.

"Yes, brother?"

"Although, she does remind me of someone."

"I have never seen her before. And she is certainly Midgardian. There's no other-worldly influence in her." Thor was sliding through hangers, evaluating gift options for Jane, talking in what he thought was a whisper.

"Yes. Yes… it's just so strange. She is so familiar… too familiar." Loki left his sentence hanging in the air. You were striding his way, a soft, down turned expression on your face. The urge to kiss the corners of your mouth overwhelmed him.

"Hi again." Exhaling, you risked a full look at Loki. He was scrutinizing you, closer than before, needing to solve the mystery of your connection.

"Hello."

God, you missed his eyes. The serious way they took in every detail. How they lit up with Loki's laughing or glowed with mischief when he got up to no good.

Swallowing dryly, you remembered his eyes darkening with passion. Appraising you through dusky lashes, half closed in pleasure as you hugged his body snugly to your own. His heavy heat inside of you, both finding release, breathing hard, holding onto each other while the world around you faded away.

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

Loki, peering at you, smirked. "I said, thank you for the hideous sweater. My brother's fiancee will hate it but she will, inevitably, appreciate the oaf's effort."

Giggling, your body temperature rose a few degrees, unable to resist Loki. It was so easy to be around him. It always had been.

"My lady, thank you! Brother, I am off to find the cashier. I shall meet you outside…" Thor nodded your way, encouraging Loki, failing at being discreet.

Sharing a laugh with your former lover, Loki risked taking your hand. You didn't shrug him off. Instead, your breath caught, frozen in the familiar feeling of his fingers.

"Hmm… you say we are strangers but your body tells another story, little one. Do you know who I am?"

You could answer that honestly. Loki wasn't as popular as Thor or Captain America but his name was known publicly. His reputation was a bit tarnished, surely, but that had always been part of your attraction to him.

Finding your voice, "Yea… I do."

"Uh huh. Then you know I am not some mortal man, held to the rules and restrictions of this planet. You understand that I am a God. One who makes mischief." Dropping his voice into that silky predatory tone had made your insides go liquid.

He was too close now, his spearmint breath fanning your face, "Yes, I know where your… skills lie."

Watching your chest heave, your want apparent, Loki licked over his bottom lip, certain he could taste phantom strawberry bubblegum and grapefruit lip gloss. An odd, yet enticing, combination. One his mouth knew even if his memory couldn't recall why.

"Then you know I suss out falsehoods. It's part of the deal, dove. To lie you must spot lies. And you…", pressed into a wall mirror, hidden by a rack of wool pea coats, "aren't being truthful."

What could you say to that? “I… I am too. Like I said, You don’t know me.” Leaning into you, not touching your begging skin, but still so near, “Little liar. I think that there might be a way to solve our problem. Over dinner, tonight. My treat, assuming there’s a restaurant in this town that is not part of a chain.”

“A date? With you?” A date was not a good idea. Too much time to talk might lead to trouble. Either you’d say too much or, and this was possibly worse, do too much with Loki. Could you resist his charms? You weren’t able to the first time around. Now, knowing just how much you missed him, how lonely your nights were without him, would you be able to stop things from going too far? What if Loki learned the truth? That you had sacrificed your past together so that he might have a future, would he still want you then? Could he?

Loki, seeing all these thoughts pass over your face, “Yes. With me.” “No.” “No?” “Yes.” “So, yes then?” “No. Yes to the no.” “I don’t think you know what you want little mortal. Join me for dinner tonight and I won’t bother you ever again.” Always tricky, this could be another of Loki’s pranks, ready to backfire on you at the drop of a hat. If he kept his word, walked away after your night out, then it would be worth it. You could do one evening and not lose your head or your heart. “You won’t bother me ever again? You promise?” That sinister smile spread over Loki’s face, lifting his sharp cheekbones in triumph, “Oh, I promise. One date. Tonight.”

--- Years ago, when you and Loki enjoyed the first full flush of blossoming love, dating wasn’t always possible or convenient. With missions to go on, HYDRA cells to investigate, and near constant alien invasions of one kind or another, dinners and movies weren’t a priority. Staying alive was the rule of the day. In the moments when relaxation was possible, you and Loki found yourselves drawn to each other. Bonding over take out containers and warm beers in the early morning hours, sleep elusive, sitting on the counter tops. Sharing great music, digital from you, vinyl from Loki, led to dancing on the cool tile of the rooftop patio. Cherished books, personal poetry and moving works of art passed between you at a rate that alarmed the rest of the team.

You favorite times? Watching films and must see TV from the comfort of Tony’s leather couches. Snuggled under soft blankets, touching each other gently, testing and teasing. Letting the connection you shared grow naturally was what made it so special. Tonight though, this was different. Loki arrived at your door in full on romantic leading man mode. His suit was jet with a shirt and tie to match, making him look long and lethal, but undeniably sexy. There were flowers, an affectation that nonetheless made your heart swell. Holding your door, pulling out your chair, effortlessly making all the right moves was just Loki’s style. Why did it make your heart ache in equal measure? Because it was so different from your first time around. The love that led you here, to a place where no one knew you, had been so organic. Not forced or formulaic.

“I fear I’m boring you.” Loki’s bright eyes glittered as he swirled his fork through the rich sauce skillfully. Dabbing your mouth, “No, not at all. I just… I…” You were lost in remembering. Loki was telling a story that you had lived, but where you should have been was a hole. A gap, created when you had made your deal with the purple eyed sorceress, brought reality crashing into the conversation. It was a distracting detail. “Lost in your thoughts. You do that frequently, don’t you, dove.” Dove. Oh god, you hadn’t heard his endearments in ages. It made your stomach tense from need. Being Loki’s dove had meant something to you then. It meant more now. “My past is never far. It creeps up on me all the time. But I’m sure you know nothing about that.” Deliberately leading him to talk more about himself, you let the timbre of his voice take over, listening intently to the man who once was yours. The long night was over too soon. You had been on eggshells, carefully choosing your words, the entire time. As much as you wanted to keep him near, you knew that one night was already a calculated risk, and it couldn’t happen again. If Loki kept his promise, tomorrow you would be back to your routine, the missing him would still be there but so would running and the store. “Uh… thank you for the lovely dinner. I really enjoyed it.” “I believe you used to be a better liar.” Freezing, your key in the lock, you turned to face Loki. “What was that?” Panic rose in your throat tasting of bile and bucatini. Leaning his shoulder against your door frame, “You heard me perfectly well. Like I said, you were better at this once. At least, I think you were.”

“I don’t know what you think, but I’ve… we’ve…” “Never met? Yes, that line is familiar. But then again, so are you.” “Loki…” Pleading with him to drop it, to let it go, would never work. Besides, you hadn’t been able to.

And what would happen if you did come clean? Would the spell be reversed? You couldn’t risk that. Not after all that you’d already gone through to keep Loki alive. At the sound of his name on your lips, Loki stepped into your personal space. His long finger rested over your parted mouth, effectively silencing you, as he whispered in your ear, “No more lies. Not tonight.” Reaching around you, Loki turned your key, opening the door to your place. Clicking on your lamp, the circle of light small in the shadows of your apartment, you move towards the kitchen. “I need a drink. Do you want one?” Nodding, “I think I might need one.” Barking out a hard laugh, you lifted two glasses down from the rarely opened cabinet. Tossing in ice cubes, you quickly cover them with the amber liquid of bourbon, swirling the two ingredients together as you walk back to the man pacing in your living room. “Good stuff, right?” Ruefully chuckling at the harsh burn of the booze, you looked at your date motioning for him to take a seat on your beat up sofa next to you. Folding himself gracefully, Loki perched on the couch, his knee just barely grazing your own. The contact was electric, shorting out your speech center for a second, and you moaned softly. Moving your drink to the table, Loki’s digits circled your wrist, "Now tell me, why do I know these hands? Soft but strong, with a scar across the middle knuckle…"

Turning your palm down, brushing over that exact imperfection, Loki searched your eyes for answers. "Why am I drawn to you across space and time? You are a ghost that haunts me. The echo of a dream that is real and warm… and here."

"Loki…" Chin quivering, "There are things you don't know. Things about me… about us…"

Tilting his head, studying you, "Ah. Us. We, that is, you and I have history, do we not? I… I know that is true. Yet," Swallowing thickly, Loki struggled to control the swell of emotion bubbling through him, "Yet, I have no memory of you. Tell me why that is."

A wild sob ripped through you making your shoulders heave. "I don't think I can!"

Twining his arms around you, the smell of his skin surrounding you, comforting you, "Why is that?"

Eyes brimming with tears, you murmured, "Because… it might reverse everything. I… I don't know what would happen if I told you the truth. All of it."

"So, dark magic then. Strong… but perhaps not strong enough. Not nearly capable of keeping you and I apart." Petting your knee, savoring the nearness of Loki, you parted your thighs in anticipation of his touch. Loki, unable to resist any longer, pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. One of his palms skated under the hem of your dress while his other hand cupped your cheek. Tracing over your jawline with his thumb, Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting you in tiny sips. Pulling away from you, “We… We were lovers.” His voice rose at the revelation no longer concealed by magic. “Yes, Loki.” Swallowing hard, the raw truth finally said out loud. “But you, you erased yourself from my mind… My life. Why did you do it? Why would you take our… happiness from me?” It was enough to break your heart all over again. Loki’s voice, trembling, unsure, and clearly hurting.

Whispering more for yourself than him, "I couldn’t let you go, Loki. I… I can't, even now. I watched you almost die. I won't do it again!" “And this? This is life? Dove. You know better than this.” “I saved your life!” Needing to defend yourself, you nearly bellowed in frustration, struggling to make Loki understand. Standing suddenly, Loki turned from you, “What kind of life have I had without you?” “I don’t know the answer to that…” Rising yourself, a hand to Loki’s chest, “But my life without you… you have no idea how hard it’s been. I dream of you every night, Loki. And in those dreams, I don’t rescue you. You die in my arms. Every night, Loki. I saved you once with the help of dark magic. But I’ve lost you every single day since.”

Crying in earnest now, you felt Loki wrap his iron arms around you, “Hush now. Hush, darling. Somehow, some way, I found you again. I’m not letting you go.” Sagging into his warmth, letting Loki comfort you, felt like home. Without realizing, you were swaying in each other's arms, dancing to the music in your souls. You curled your arms around Loki's waist, his solid figure reassuring, hugging him closer.

Loki's hands drifted down, cupping your bottom, squeezing your curves firmly. "I missed you, little minx."

Giggling at his pet name for you, one you never expected to hear again, you smiled up at your dark hued God. Standing on your toes you touched your lips to Loki's. Anticipating your move, Loki opened his mouth, capturing yours in a kiss.

Loki's grip, tugging you tightly to his firm form, became needy. His mouth plundered yours, taking your breath, absorbing your moan. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling your hungry lips from his own, giving Loki unchecked access to the column of your throat.

Closing your eyes, lost in intimate sensations that were both routine and refreshing, you lost yourself in Loki. Stepping out of his grasp, you pulled the hem of your dress up, shrugging it over your head and tossing it to the floor. "Loki, I love you. I never stopped loving you."

Watching your nearly nude form, Loki shared his sweet, secret smile with you. "I love you. And even wizardry could prevent us from finding each other."

"Please, help me remember. Let me forget." He knew what you were asking. Remember what you had shared, what you could have again. Forget this time apart, this lapse in love.

"With pleasure, little dove."

---

Your bed, usually so lonely, was suddenly too small. Loki's long body stretched across the mattress, reaching for you, impatient to relearn the things that made you melt. And you? You couldn't stop touching his satin skin.

First your fingers fluttered over his thighs, up his torso, over his chest. But that wasn't enough to satisfy. So you followed the same trail with your mouth. Licking lovingly over Loki's abdominals, nipping at his tiny nipples, sucking against his Adam's Apple.

Straddling Loki, his hands on your hips drag you against his rigid rod. Feeling his driving desire made your core quiver. When he caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking forcefully, you howled like a wild woman.

"Oh, Loki! Ah!" Your hands tangled in his hair, encouraging the exquisite agony of his teeth biting into your tender bud.

With a growl, Loki flipped you to your back, settling himself between your spread thighs. Removing your panties with a swift tug, Loki spread your lower lips, licking into your luscious folds. His tongue thrust into you, lapping at your liquid, drinking you down.

Convulsing when Loki's tactile tongue circled your clit, your core clenched in pleasure, your release is close. When you announce that to the man pleasuring you, Loki nips at your inner thigh, kissing his way over your mound. "Not yet. I'm not through with you or your bountiful body."

As his lips closed over your own, Loki shifted your hips higher, your cleft cuddling his steel length. Teasing your entrance with his wide tower, drawing a shivery moan from you, Loki slowly sunk into your yielding sheath. Inch by inch, Loki claimed more of you as you impatiently waited to be filled by his hard heat.

Stretched by his searing shaft, Loki bent your knees, bringing them closer to your chest. Rocking into you, his hips pressing your legs apart, Loki enjoyed the feeling of your velvet vice gripping his with each push. He was slow, methodically moving inside of you, taking his time.

Your body responded with slick skin, soft sighs, melting into a mewling mess. "Faster Loki! Please!"

"No. I never want to forget you again." Loki's words sparked your internal fire. Plunging into your pulsing pocket, picking up speed, Loki pursued your pleasure.

You couldn't keep your hands off of him. His neck, his shoulders, his firm bottom, the cut of his hip. Scratching your nails over his arms, along his back, across his chest, Loki grunted in delight.

"Cum with me, little dove." It wasn't a command or a request. It was a plea.

"Always, Loki!" Locking your arms behind his neck, Loki dug his fingers into the back of your thighs, your tongues tangling together. Panting through your pleasure together, clinging to each other, determined to hang onto the only other person who mattered, you pressed your forehead to Loki's.

That night you slept curled around Loki, deeply and uninterrupted. Tomorrow would bring a new dawn, a new day. And everything before today would be an echo, losing distinction over time, replaced by the new life you would build together. ---

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