Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates

Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?

Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.

Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.

You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.

Marco: We are not similar in any way.

You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.

Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.

Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.

Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.

Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.

You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.

Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.

You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.

Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.

Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.

Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.

Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?

Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.

Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.

Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.

Thatch: how about you fucking make me?

Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.

Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.

Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.

Izou: I'm sorry too

You: you all are too fighty.

Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.

You: I am not

Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.

You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.

Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!

You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you waking up in jack’s arms makes him realize he needs to do something soon

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a lil kiss 💋, just fluff mainly

𝐚/𝐧: was half asleep while writing this so it might be rough

jack had his hands draped around waist, while you were laying on his chest. your head was snuggled in the crook of his neck, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine.

you were fast asleep, however he was definitely not. he was supposed to napping with you in his trailer, but he couldn’t sleep. he has something, or someone, on his mind. 

you and jack were filming Scream VI together and played love interests. it was fine at first, but as filming progressed, jacks feeling for you only grew. there was only one problem. you and jack were friends.

well, sorta. 

you did everything a normal couple would do, but just as buddies. hence why you were cuddled up together on the couch in his trailer. no one really knew why you weren’t officially together, for you would make such a good couple.

he wanted to call you his. it was silly, the only thing keeping you from formally dating was a label, and yet he craved it, more than anything.

he looked down at you, your glowed from the sunlight peeking through the windows. you looked angelic, and he wondered how a person could be this pretty. god, he hated himself for being so fearful of rejection. 

unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way. you wished you weren’t such a chicken, and could grow a pair and ask him out. how was it possible to want a person this bad?

you were a match made in heaven, as jenna liked to say. she was your costar, and your best friend. you told her all about your interactions with jack, the both of you giggling like little schoolgirls. you had given him the codename “strawberry,” so you could talk about him without others knowing his identity. 

jenna saw the spark in your eyes when you talked to him, and your pupils dilated in size every time you were around him. you were in love with a man you weren’t even dating. 

your body twisted and turned as you slowly woke up. you blink away the sleepiness and cautiously looked up at jack to see if he had waken up yet.  

“good morning, sleepyhead.” jack says. you smile at eachother, and you sat up, the shared blanket slipping off of your silky skin.

“how long have you been awake?” you asked, hoping you didn’t keep him glued in place while you were fast asleep. your sleepy voice made jack swoon, and he held back from doing anything he would later regret. 

“not long, i just woke up.” he lies straight through his teeth in order to make you feel okay. you just nod and pat around the cushions, searching for your phone. you find it smooshed in between two pillows, and you check the clock. it was two twenty three.

“what time do we need to be back on set by?” you curiously ask him.

“three pm, i think. but we need to go to hair and makeup at two thirty.”

you flash him the time, and hop out of bed. you and him take short walk to the costume department. there was two separate trailers, and all of the actors randomly assigned to one at the beginning of filming. you and jack got split up, which sucked, but the system was supposed to help with efficiency and speed. 

you part ways, and both get into full costume. your makeup artist was around your age, so you enjoyed chatting with her. after getting ready, you both meet up on set.

you and him weren’t in a lot of scenes today, so you mainly just played game pigeon together. the day was spent competing and laughing together, and you wouldn’t have changed anything.

however, the whole day jack had plastered on a fake smile. in reality, he was stressed to beyond compare. he was going to ask you out by the end of the day. 

seeing you all wrapped up in his arms this afternoon made him realize that he wants to start a future with you. so while his was alone, he called his buddy, romeo, and sent him to the store to get flowers. he made romeo send photos of every bouquet in the shop, so jack could pick out the perfect bundle for you. 

it was now dark out, and filming for today was over. you and him already had changed back into your normal clothes, and you both went back to your personal trailers to grab your keys. you separated and agreed to meet back up in the, now empty, parking lot. 

what you didn’t know was that romeo was waiting in jacks trailer, with the flowers that jack would use to ask you out. jacks heart raced as he rushed to the parking lot. he wanted to be there first, just to see your reaction when you saw him standing with a colorful section of gorgeous flowers in his hands.

he anxiously waited for you, nervously popping his fingers. he then saw you walking up to him, the moonlight illuminating your features. you approached him, getting closer and closer.

he handed you the flowers, and you smiled brighter than ever, wondering what they were for.

“y/n, i’ve loved spending countless hours with you over the past few months, and there is nothing i want more in this world than to be your boyfriend. will you please go out with me?” he lovingly asked.

you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his hand with your cheek, before connecting your lips together. you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him, and it definitely lived up to its potential. he kissed you back, passion filling your bodies. 

you pulled apart, and looked at him with a huge grin. jack opened his mouth to ask a sarcastic question.

“so was that a yes?”

taglist: @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @hillesem, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

(click here to join taglist)

hello gorgeous, I love your imagination that you put into words. I expecially like your works on daniel&gasly (maybe because they're my favorite drivers). I saw that requests are closed and you're going under the knife (hope it goes well!) but if by any chance you want/have time to write this I'll be happy. Will be pleased with whatever you choose to do with this request.

The reader is a very normal, ordinary person. Rents a flat, has a job, meets with her friends form time to time. Nothing much. Somehow hers and the drivers paths cross. He immediately falls in love with her, she feels the attraction but after one weekend with him she understands that they're too different and it certainly won't work. So he's trying to persuade her to give them a try and she always runs away when her feelings instead of brain start to win. During intimate moments she starts to make awful jokes or act like a child, everything to not let the passion take over and the driver notices that and the seducing begins.

Would love this with dan or pierre but it's up to you.

Have a lovely day! 😊

P.S: Sorry for my English, it's not my 1st language

Romantic at Heart || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: none really, smut implied WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist

You should have been heading straight home, just like you had promised the girls after a Friday night out, but the lights had stolen your attention. At first you thought it was a firefly, a single orange glowing tail on the brick wall. Then you spotted another, but it was blue. Then one by one you noticed them dotted along the wall, all the colours of the rainbow leading the way to the riverbank in the opposite direction to your apartment. 

Curiosity had you following the path of tiny LED lights, wondering what it might lead to. The distance between each beacon grew closer until they became clusters, like little galaxies of constellations you could wish upon. A small laugh bubbled up as you skipped along to the next one with childlike excitement, so engrossed in what you were looking at that you didn’t see where you were going.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologised as you bumped into a man, his hands scrambling to catch his camera before it could hit the pavement. “Sorry, I was distracted. Is your camera okay?”

The man had recovered it without incident and smiled as he held it up. “Mind if I check?”

“Check what?” you asked as he raised it to his eye, the lens pointed in your direction.

“If it still works. Smile!”

You laughed at the man’s confidence and you heard the shutter snap the photo before he looked at the display. “Wow, that’s perfect,” he praised, waving you over. “Come look.”

You stepped closer to the man, feeling a sense of recognition though you were certain you hadn’t met him before. He angled the camera so you could see what he had captured and your lips parted in surprise. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to take a simple photo but make it art. 

The smile on your face was pure joy, and the lights behind you had distorted under the exposure and contrast to create a halo around your head. 

“You look like an angel.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered in amazement, wishing you could have a copy for yourself. 

“God?” he chuckled as he held a hand out. “Nah, you can just call me Daniel.”

You shook his hand with a laugh, feeling like it was a sound he was used to hearing from everyone he spoke to, and gave him your name in return. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Daniel started to say and you immediately began to shift uncomfortably on your feet, “but you’re beautiful, and it’s late, what are you doing out on your own?”

“Oh, I was out with my girlfriends and on my way home when I saw these and I kind of, had to, follow them…?” you trailed off and looked back at the dark path you had wandered down, less and less lights illuminating the way home. “I guess I should be going.”

Daniel followed your gaze to the darker end of the road and hated the thought of you walking it alone. Shoving his camera into his hoodie pocket, he offered his elbow. “Care for some company on this fine evening? My mother would throttle me if she knew I let a lady walk home alone at this hour.”

You chewed your lip as you debated his offer. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Only at breakfast.” You took a sudden step back and he screwed his eyes shut as he berated himself. “Sorry, sorry, terrible joke. Terrible timing. I meant Cereal Killer…because I eat cereal for breakfast…I’m sorry.”

“That is not funny,” you said despite laughing. “I watch way too many Netflix shows for that.”

His head tilted to the side and caught the colours of the leds around you as curiosity filled his playful smile. “Have you seen that Formula One show on there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea and shook your head. “Sports isn’t really my thing.” Trusting your gut that he was safe enough, you looped your arm in his and set off down the road. 

“Then what is your thing?”

“Books,” you admitted, suddenly shy though you had no reason to be. “My friends actually refer to my apartment as ‘the library’. If I didn’t have to work to buy more books I don’t think anyone would see me again, I would just hole up and read.”

“There’s worse ways to spend your time,” he joked with a grin you were starting to think was perpetually painted on his face.

“Yeah, I could watch Formula one.” His smile faded and his laugh puttered out, making you instantly regret the joke. “I can hardly make fun of your thing when I’ve told you mine.”

“I don’t actually watch F1,” he admitted as he stopped walking and you turned to face him. “I’m too busy racing.”

“Racing what?” 

He blinked a few times and his lip twitched with a smile when he realised you were genuinely confused. “I race cars…in F1…for McLaren.”

You waited for the punchline to come but for the first time since meeting him, he was serious. “Oh, oh! Okay…wow. I guess that’s why I felt like I recognised you, I must have seen you somewhere. God, I feel stupid.” You laughed to yourself and sighed, whispering under your breath, “you’ve been reading too much romance.”

“You’re not stupid,” Daniel said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Your laugh was an unladylike snort of disbelief. “Don’t be silly, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my last name or what I do for work.”

“But I want to, if you’ll give me the time to learn. Not that it matters what your job is, you aren’t your work.”

“What if I’m an escort?”

“Are you an escort?”

“Would it matter?” 

He was momentarily stunned and you saw him worrying his bottom lip and he thought of an appropriate answer. 

“I’m not, but obviously it would matter,” you clarified as you turned and started your walk again. “I’m an admin assistant, not an escort, just so you know.”

“Not a librarian?” 

You smiled as you tipped your head back to the starry night. “A girl can dream, but they aren’t positions that tend to come up very often. Even less with everything going digital.”

“You could open your own library, you already have the books apparently.” 

You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you stopped outside your apartment complex. It had been easy to get lost in the conversation with him and you almost continued walking just so the evening didn’t come to an end. 

“Apparently?” you giggled as he opened the front door for you. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

He followed you to the elevator and leaned against the wall. “Is that you inviting me up?”

It was daring and absolutely unlike you but when you looked into his eyes you knew you wanted to see more of them so you found yourself asking, “Would you say yes?”

His smile grew as he reached for the elevator button in response and hit it.

Monday morning rolled around too soon and you struggled to pull yourself out of bed to get ready for work. Daniel’s back was to you as he hugged his pillow, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, and you saw the slightly raised marks of your nails over his tan skin. 

The weekend had been better than any of the fictional tales that filled the rooms in your house. You hadn’t even left the apartment, too engrossed in each other's company to face the outside world. But that would change as you climbed out of bed and started your usual Monday morning routine. 

“Good morning, angel,” Daniel greeted sweetly as he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek. 

You held up the piece of toast you were eating and let him take a bite for himself. “Can I have your number?” he asked after finishing his mouthful and watching you dart around the small kitchen, packing a little lunch to take to work.

“For what?”

“So I can give it to telemarketers,” he joked as he caught you around the waist. “No, so I can call you.”

“This weekend has been…magical, but you’re a famous race car driver, and I’m, well, just me,” you said softly. “I’m under no illusion about how this ends, Daniel, we live in two different worlds.”

“That’s just a cop out,” he argued, picking up your phone and calling himself so he had your number. “I’m going to prove you wrong.” 

Three Weeks Later “Daniel’s here to see you.” You looked up from your computer to double check Jess was talking to you and found her grinning like a fool. “I can’t believe he’s actually here.”

“Who?”

Jess reached for the half empty cup of coffee she had made you and sniffed it. “Did I give you decaf? Girl, wake up! You don’t keep a man like that waiting. The PA’s are already sniffing around him.”

Pushing your chair back, you rose at the threat of the PA’s who loved to dote upon any man who had a seven figure salary. Two of the glorified assistants longed to be on Love Island and their entire personality could fit in the extremely large breasts their ex-bosses had paid for - right before the sexual harassment charges were filed. Yeah, you weren’t going to leave Daniel to fend for himself.

Leaving the back offices, you followed the scent of knock-off Marc Jacobs to the reception area where Daniel smiled and joked with the small crowd surrounding him. You were once again struck by how different your lives were, his in the spotlight and yours anything but. It was only as you moved closer that you saw how the smile didn’t reach the creases around his eyes and heard the laugh that didn’t come from deep in his belly. 

“Alright, ladies,” you interrupted the group with a wave of your hands, “thank you for keeping Daniel company, I’ll take it from here.”

A few overly keen females pouted as they stepped away and Daniel cast a grateful smile to you before pulling out the gift he had hidden behind his back. It took a second to realise why the bouquet of roses looked strange but then the confused frown was replaced with a smile as you accepted it. Every rose was made of origami, carefully folded and shaped into the blossom and you quickly recognised the lines of Pride and Prejudice, arguably the greatest romance novel of all time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you held the meaningful bouquet to your chest. 

Daniel was all too aware of your curious co-workers still hanging around the area and dipped his head closer to yours. “There’s this angel I’ve been missing, and I just needed to see her again.”

The gesture, the words, it all made your heart skip a beat but you quashed the feelings that arose with it. “That is stalking.”

His laugh was genuine and your smile grew when you saw his reach his eyes as he corrected you, “That is romantic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you sniffed the paper roses. “Did you spray these with your cologne?”

“The book came from a secondhand store and it smelt like mothballs, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for. I think I smell better than mothballs.”

“Wait, you made these!” Surprise floored you as you looked at them with a new appreciation. 

“With a little help and a lot of youtube,” he grinned proudly. “I would have come sooner but it took three weeks to make them all.”

The effort he made brought tears to your eyes and you hurried to blink them away. The man was absolutely relentless in his belief that the connection between you could become something more, but you still struggled to accept it. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, no that had been instant from the moment you met, you just didn’t understand how someone as famous as him could settle for someone as plain as you.

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” you said after swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Than thinking of ways to win your heart? No way. So…can I please take you out on a date?”

Your eyes traced the roses, scanning the lines from the pages of one of your favourite books. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Daniel made you laugh, he could always make you laugh. The late night phone calls that interrupted your reading time replaced the silence in the apartment with the sound of your laughter. But would it be enough to close the distance between your worlds?

Your eyes followed another petal and felt it resonate within: Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

“One date,” you said as you tore your eyes away from the flowers that only seemed to call to you more, begging to find more sweet sentences among the folds. “And nowhere public. I want to actually be able to talk with you, not get swarmed by fans.”

“I can do that,” he said with a wide grin before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to leave but he stopped as you softly called his name, looking over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Thank you for these, Daniel. No one’s ever done anything so sweet.”

“It’s just the beginning, angel,” he winked, disappearing out the door as you hid your face in the flowers that smelt just like him.

Crap, you sighed to yourself. He was worming his way into your heart, just like he planned.

I love your fics so much! Could you maybe write one where reader is very insecure about being on her period because her past boyfriends were grossed out by it but Pedro is just being the sweetest. Like maybe bleeding through on his bed and freaking out and apologizing but Pedro is just being sweet about it?

I think I got this request a while ago also for joseph quinn, which makes me wonder how many awful men you have encountered in your life babes

The sun shined through the open window as a gentle gust of wind tussled your hair, waking you from a peaceful sleep.

You felt something on your chest, and as you opened your eyes, found Pedro's hand and arm shamelessly extended on it.

He always wanted to keep you close, even in the middle of summer.

You soaked in the feeling for a moment, breathing in a slow breath as you let your eyes travel over to his figure.

A small smile involuntarily drew itself on your lips as you took in his puffy eyes and gaped mouth as he slept like a baby.

A smile that grew wider as you recalled how he once told you that he had always had trouble sleeping, but since he slept in bed with you, he had never had that problem again.

he had told you so casually, like it was nothing, but each time you watched him sleep, his words came back to melt your heart.

You wiggled under the thin blanket, trying to get rid of it as the heat started getting to you, but just as you did, you couldn't help but freeze as your eyes focused on the white blanket covering the mattress.

There was a red stain. Right between your legs. right on the fucking bed. His fucking bed.

Shit.

shitshitshit

No this can't be it, your period wasn't supposed to come for another three days, what the fuck?

"fuck" you absentmindedly cursed, as your eyes filled with panic.

What the fuck am I gonna do now?

"good morning to you too" Your boyfriend's voice startled you.

Nonono

You turned around to find a lazy grin on his lips.

"g-good morning" you gulped, your mouth suddenly dry.

He must have still been a little asleep because he didn't notice your tone as he leaned up to give you a quick kiss, but once you didn't reciprocate, too much in your head to do anything but wish to disappear, then he asked:

"what's wrong?"

Oh god

To say you wanted to run away was an understatement.

"I-" you squeezed your eyes shut, praying to however was listening to make this all disappear.

"what? What happened" his eyes wrinkled with worry.

"I just..." you let your eyes set to where the stain was, and he followed your glare.

"I'm sorry" you whispered, suddenly not able to talk in more than a thread of voice "I'm-I'm so sorry baby, I'll clean it up right away- I just- It wasn't supposed to come already" you muttered "I'm so sorry, please don't be mad"

His silence was killing you, and once he raised his head to look at you again, your heart began to race as you waited for his inevitable disgusted reaction.

"mad?" 

Why did he sound genuinely confused?

"I-yes, I just... I know it's kind of... gross"

And there it was again, a confused frown persisted on his face.

"What are y- Baby what are you talking about?" he asked, his tone gentle, like he was honestly asking "It's not gross, and I'm definitely not mad" A smile pulled at his lips "Why would I be? It's normal, it's-human"

what?

Your brain couldn't comprehend his words

"w-what?"

His smile got wider as one of his hands reached up to stroke your cheek "Sweetheart why would I be mad that you got your period? It doesn't make any sense"

A breath got caught in your throat "A-are you being serious?"

"yes" he promised, smiling "Of course I am baby"

"oh" you breathed "I just- I thought you would have been grossed out by it"

"I could never be grossed out by anything concerning you, angel" he promised, his eyes boring into yours "I love you way too much for that" he smirked, kissing your cheek.

"Now let's go have a shower so I can help you get cleaned up" 

"b-but what about the bed?"

"I'll worry about the bed later. Let's go" he continued, getting up from the bed and settling in front of you.

"c'mon" he urged with grabby hands

You accepted his invitation and got up with his help.

"thank you" you said

"for what?"

"Just...for being you"

And to that, he laughed softly

"anytime, sweetheart"

I'm not sure if you accepting RoR request but can I request Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang and Nikola Tesla with a fem reader that's Nyarlathotep? (crawling chaos from HP Lovecraft) she looks normal and even cute most of the time but she can be very much terrifying when turning into her cosmic horror form or if she wants to just mess around with the gods (mostly Zeus and Odin) by messing with their heads most of the time and they can't do much because she's an outer god but around them she's very sweet and helpful and ties her best to push away her violent tendencies for their sake

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Shiva, Buddha, Qin Shi Huang, and Nikola Tesla Name: {Character} with a Nyarlathotep! Reader Requester: Anonymous

A/N: At this point, I may as well make a page dedicated to my H.P. Lovecraft-themed Reader pieces, since I've written like three pieces now! It's ironic because of how much I love reading about these characters, lmao

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🪩 This man thrives on destruction, he's the God of it for crying out loud!

🪩 When he first met you, you and your father, Azathoth, were attending the Gods' Council meeting, and you were one of the Gods who decided to spare Humanity, and when asked by him, you just replied with a sly

" Oh, I do not wish for them to live because of pity or love, silly! Quite the opposite, actually! Humans have caused so much chaos and madness, it's wonderful! And, I plan on keeping them for as long as I find them enjoyable. Now, ta-ta~ "

🪩 He'd be lying if he said he didn't find you a hint alluring, you looked far cuter than what was written down, you were always described as a being that looked more 'monstrous' and 'hideous' than anything Humanity could've created

🪩 Shiva and you would normally speak whenever necessary, but, after a while, your more distant bond grew into a blooming friendship and eventual marriage!

🪩 This God definitely doesn't care about how mad you sound with your words, he just fears that maybe one day you'll either say something to the wrong person or you'll end up going unstoppable with madness and get annihilated by a stronger being

🪩 Whenever Loki messes around with Shiva, you end up messing with his mind a lot, prompting Odin to knock you away, which makes you target him, much to his birds' annoyance

🪩 Shiva tried pushing his own violent tendencies away for you and his fellow wives' sake, and because of this, he ends up having a special day every month for him to go out and let out those thoughts and actions, and, when he notices just how much pressure was building on you, he'd take you with him

" Go ahead and blow that massive boulder up! Good job, my Being of Chaos! "

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🍭 This guy was concerned when he first met you, you were seemingly more insane than the other Gods he met, and that included those such as Loki, and we all know how crazy that guy is

🍭 The only reason this guy even spoke to you was because of how strongly your father stood with the destruction of Humanity, every. single. time. that the Gods voted

🍭 Buddha was getting annoyed with how ignorant and oblivious your father was, and he could tell you were as well, and when he asked you about how you truly felt about your father, you acknowledged him, unlike many different Gods, and spoke to him calmly with hidden insanity

" My father is quite ignorant and, to be honest, sometimes even I wonder how in the name of the universe he has so much power. But, let me be honest with you, Buddha. Because of this, he's fun to manipulate. But, don't tell anyone about that, yeah? Yeah! Alright, gotta go, bye! "

🍭 He was quite off-put when he asked Brunhilde about you, and when she said how dangerous and hideous of a being you were, he was confused, you were adorable and seemingly sweet

🍭 Your God-friend and you were some of the only Gods who voted for Humanity's safety, though, you both kept it to yourselves, not wishing to have a certain someone's rage on your asses

🍭 When Ragnarok commenced, you teleported to speak to Brunhilde, telling her your plan of siding with Humanity during the Gods' strongest point to break them down mentally, you did love to watch them struggle, after all!

🍭 After finding out that Buddha was siding with Humanity, you jumped down, causing many to believe you were fighting against him, but, when you announced your defect to their side, your father's rage knew no bounds

" Oh, father, just how much of an ignorant prick can you be? Humanity does have some, decent, qualities to them. And while I may never fully understand them, I will try my best to do so. Anyways, have fun fighting, my dear! "

🍭 Much like Shiva, he appreciates how much you try staying sane around him and the Human Fighters, it lets him know just how much you do care about him

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👑 When Qin first met you, it was because one of your father's minions accidentally caused mass destruction to his home, leaving many lives in ruin and an emperor very, very, upset

👑 You attending the small meeting with your father, though you spent your time screwing around with the nearby humans, causing the ruler to ignore your father's rambles of incoherentness

👑 While he initially disliked how unsettlingly cute yet sadistic you were, once he got to know you a bit better, thanks to some well-spent time on Earth by yourself, he began to see you for what you really were

👑 Being raised by such a cruel yet idiotic being, you really didn't have the best examples when it came to interactions with other brings, heck, you had some of the most horrendous relationships with your two siblings, Nameless Mist and Darkness

👑 During one of your first meetings while on decent terms, he asked you exactly what you were going to do, since he had heard about Ragnarok forming from one of the guards of his

" Ragnarok? It sounds pretty pathetic to me, honestly. Though, I suppose watching the smug smirks of those so called Gods fade would make me smile myself. I kid, I kid! Oh, you see right through me, emperor! Honestly, really it's a funny thing, but, I may side with Humanity in the downfall, you know how I am! "

👑 Qin disliked how cruel and hostile you were with pretty much anyone, but, when he noticed how much softer and seemingly polite you were with his fellow fighters, he would smile to himself

👑 You must really care about him if it meant you were trying to push back the only thing you ever knew behind just so he could be happier and not driven to the brink of insanity himself from stress

" Why am I so kind with the mortals? I figured I was being sneaky with my behavior, oh well! They're far weaker appearing then they really are, I suppose. And I respect that, to a degree. I'm not going soft, damn you! "

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🧪 Nikola Tesla, the man known on Earth as the 'Ultimate Mad Scientist of His Time', and his title alone was enough to interest you

🧪 Once you learned of where he resided in Valhalla, you took a small trip there, leaving a simply written note on the table your father sat at daily, and setting a straight-lined course there

🧪 He was just working on his newest invention when his doors slammed open, making him jump and snap his head back to see a fairly tall humanoid-being standing there

🧪 While he stared at you, you smiled and ran up to him, allowing your form to float above him and ask if he was indeed the human known as 'Nikola Tesla'

🧪 Once reassuring his identity, you began asking about his work, from how he made something so complicated look so seemingly simple, despite the multitude of horrendously long equation written on his chalkboard

🧪 Due to his own curiosity, Nikola had to push himself to ask who and what you were, in which you just laughed and answered him with a honey-coated voice

" Who am I? That's quite surprising, dearest mortal! I am Y/N, the offspring of the Outer God, Azathoth, and the God of Madness, at least in many's eyes I am. Humans are different creatures... ANYWAYS! How about you explain about that, uh, what did you call it again? Ah, yes! The electric engineering, how does that work again? "

🧪 Nikola was very off-put by how devoted you were to being by his side to learn everything he was working on, and, in all honesty, he kinda enjoyed having you around to speak to, it made him feel a little less lonely

🧪 While he was being scolded by Brunhilde for speaking to a God who was said to have only sided with Humanity to make them suffer at their own hands, he couldn't help but argue back with how you were far more gentle with his fellow scientists when working on his armory

" Brunhilde. While I agree with the fact that their father isn't ideal in the slightest, Y/N is going behind his and the multitude of Gods' backs just to help me and my fellow geniuses win Ragnarok. You may not trust them, but I do. Now, I recommend you leave before they arrive, it may get ugly, and I do not wish for their aura to destroy our hard work. "

HIII ok i adored ur Jim fic i love him SOO BADDDD WAHHH !!!! i was wondering if i could request a Jim smut of some kind??? i’m a trans man so i would love an afab reader w gender neutral/masc pronouns but of course only whatever ur comfy w:) and if u don’t wanna do that anything else jim related pls i love him SOOOO BADDD!!!! okay sorry for the huge block of text ily and ur work is god tier bro.

The New Normal

Pairing: Jim x gn!afab!Reader

Summary: "You felt the sudden urge to kiss him, to grab him and pull him close to you, tell him to join you in the shower. "

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, praise kink, kinda almost soft!dom Jim? Reader is AFAB but no use of gendered pronouns, uhhh brief allusion to 9/11 blink and you'll miss it, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Max NEVER apologize for asking for Jim smut I am ALWAYS looking for a reason to write Jim smut. Also forgive the cross tagging but the only way I will ever reach other Cillian sluts is if I use the Thomas Shelby tag.

America was different than you’d expected it to be.

In the shows and movies, there wasn’t much diversity; either you were on a farm, or you were in the big city. The speech patterns were always overdramatized, too, and when you first reached the McGuire base in New Jersey, you were a bit disappointed when nobody shouted that “they were walkin’ he-ya!” Even more disappointed when you reached Brooklyn and were told that the accent was of a dying variety.

But in the grand scheme of things, it was so…normal. It was England before the outbreak, but with smaller busses and slower trains. You didn’t really know how to feel about it, about how the rest of the world carried on so unconcerned while the island you grew up in fell to pieces. In a way, relieved, but a small part of you felt almost offended that nobody was holding constant vigils.

What offended you more, though, was the realization that the process of being granted asylum was not something that happened quickly. While you were appreciative to Hannah’s distant cousins who had agreed to sponsor you while you awaited the business to be over—which could take years, you’d learned—you were nauseated that you still had to prove yourself in order to be allowed to stay. The lawyers, doctors, soldiers, and judges you’d met with explained that the process would go smoothly, that it was something that had to be done, not due to the nature of the thing you were escaping, but due to those who might abuse any leniency the country showed.

The world really hadn’t changed at all.

~~~

“Finished already?” You hummed at Jim when he walked through the door. Hannah’s family had taken you all shopping when you first arrived—a relief, really, to be able to change out of the fatigues the air force had given you—and Jim, despite his usual attire being casual, at best, looked so…handsome, now, with his skin not caked in blood, or dirt, or sweat. His hair was growing back in and he was wearing jeans that actually fit him. His shirt read “I<3NY” and even though you told him it looked ridiculous when he had first picked it up, you couldn’t deny that it hugged his arms in the right places.

“Not much to be done. You stitched me up so well.” He smiled at you, crossing the apartment to join you on the couch. “Doctor said he’d like to meet you.”

“I’ve met too many people this month.” You curled your legs up under you and stretched your arms over your head. “Never thought I’d say it, but I miss the apocalypse.” You leaned your head back.

Jim exhaled through his nose, amused, leaning himself back on the couch to face you. “No, you don’t.”

“I don’t,” You agreed, “It’s just…”

“Too much, too soon.”

“I guess.” You stared at each other for a while, not moving, not speaking. “I wish I could fast forward.” Jim tilted his head into the cushion he was leaning on, prompting you to continue. “I want to be used to it by now. Wanna be able to walk down the street and see a missing poster and still have hope.” You shuddered when you remembered the posters plastered on the train station walls, how familiar one disaster could feel when compared to another. “I want to feel normal. Everything here is so normal. Why am I not normal yet?” You didn’t have the energy to continue pouring over your emotions, perfectly fine with leaving it on that note.

“You’re not normal.” Jim leaned forward. “Neither am I. Neither is Hannah—s’got nothing to do with—” He waved around the two of you, implying the ordeal you’d lived through. You nodded in agreement. “And we’ll never be their kind of normal. Might just be ‘cause we’re English. Heard they had a war with us here, way back.” Jim deadpanned, and you smiled at him.

“I think I just need a shower.” You sighed, still looking at him. You felt the sudden urge to kiss him, to grab him and pull him close to you, tell him to join you in the shower. You felt your skin flush at the thought. You hadn’t been able to do much of anything but go to different meetings since you got here. One after another, it had made it difficult to find time for yourself, let alone time for you and Jim. Stolen kisses here and there, cuddles under the sheets of your bed, calling out “I love you” before the door closed behind you—there had been no time to enjoy each other.

Not to mention, you lived in a rented apartment with thin walls, and Hannah’s room was next to yours.

You hesitated to get up, and Jim sensed your delay. He brought a hand up to your hair, petting you.

“Hannah’s gone for the night. Sleepover.” You muttered, trying to be sly instead of asking for anything outright. Jim cocked a brow in jest.

“Just us, then?”

“Just us.” You confirmed. Tension formed between the two of you, and you swallowed.

“We can—can I join you in the shower?” His words were rushed, and he looked down when he spoke, only looking back up at you to gage your reaction once the question was complete. “You can say n—”

“Yes.” You felt breathless.

~~~

It was almost laughable, the two of you getting undressed together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, a shared bedroom holds plenty of space for two people to dress and undress in front of each other, but the expectation made all the difference. Jim’s “I<3NY” shirt was now discarded on the floor, his jeans unbuttoned as he helped you out of your own outfit. Your mouth fell open slightly when he peeled your shirt off of you, the feeling of his hands leaving a warm trail over your sides and a wet feeling between your legs. You reached for the waistband of his jeans, looping your fingers over the denim and into the boxers he wore underneath and beginning to pull down. He laughed quietly as he watched you struggle to move them down his waist.

“Don’t have to do all the work.” He placed his hands over yours and helped you remove his clothes. In turn, he found the button of your jeans and quickly undid them, letting you pull down the tight material and exposing yourself to him. All that remained were your panties, and Jim let out a low whistle when he reached out to brush the lace with his knuckles. “Pretty baby.”

You pushed against his chest lightly. “Shower.” You reminded him, but at this point it didn’t really matter to you. You whined slightly when his hand fell lower over your sex, nearly cupping you.

“Got all night.” He pulled down the remaining fabric, leaving you completely naked for him. And that’s how you felt—naked. Almost scared, as if now that your underwear was off and you were stripped completely, he would reconsider and not want this anymore—not want you anymore. You realized how stupid that sounded when Jim stood up at eye-level, grinning at you. You looked at him sheepishly as you stepped out of the panties pooled at your feet and toward him. You reached out to trace what remained of the wound on his abdomen, letting your fingers kiss the spots you hoped to eventually place your mouth on.

Suddenly you were in his arms, swooped up bridal style as he walked you into the bathroom. You heard yourself laugh nervously, and you buried your face into his neck. Feeling bold, you licked a stripe up to his pulse point, and he shuddered.

“Don’t wanna drop you.” He protested your action, but he lifted his head slightly to allow you better access. You did it again, letting your tongue linger and drift to his earlobe, nipping at it, feeling more and more comfortable with each step Jim took. He sighed dreamily, then placed you down on your feet next to the tub. He turned the handle, pulling the curtain back and taking your hand to guide you under the water. You all but pulled him in after you, and though he stumbled at first, he found his footing right in front of you. You watched the way the water seemed the frame his face; droplets running down his cheekbones and off of his chin. You kissed him, letting the water fall over your face, tasting it when you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue. You sighed into his mouth, a perfect combination of his taste and that of the water settling on your taste buds, and it went straight to your core. He leaned away from you, wrapping an arm around your waist and examining how the water matched the curve of your breasts. He kissed your chest, sucking on the skin just enough to make faint spots appear. You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes.

“Normally,” He licked over what would soon become a dark purple spot, “I use the shower to wash up—reflect, sometimes.” He kissed his way up your chest and neck before straightening himself out and kissing your nose. “This is a much better use of my time.” You rolled your eyes, putting gentle pressure on his neck to encourage him to lean down and kiss you. He pulled you tighter to him, and you could feel his erection against your thigh. He pushed against you, enjoying the bit of friction you provided him, and you heard him grunt quietly. His hands found purchase on your ass, squeezing the flesh gently and using the angle to draw you even closer.

“Y’know—oh!” You were cut off by an especially hard squeeze as Jim’s hands continued to roam over your ass, “I do need—I need to wash my hair…”

“Tomorrow.” Was all Jim said, reaching between your bodies to place his cock where your stomach met his crotch. You gasped at the heavy feeling of him against you, and your own hand made its way down to grab hold of him. Jim choked on his own breath, eyes fluttering shut when you began to move your wrist up and down his length. Out of curiosity, you looked down to watch your ministrations, wanting to fully enjoy the view that you had so desperately craved for so long. His cock was long, and you could see and feel the veins that ran up the extent of his shaft to the pink of his tip. You moaned quietly at the sight, hoping Jim didn’t think you pathetic for the pleasure you got out of stroking him. His mouth agape, he shut his eyes tight, trying not to think about how good your hand felt. You kneeled before him, and planted a kiss on his head, licking a stripe over him.

“O—h,” he was panting, “Fuck, baby.” You watched his chest rise and fall dramatically as you took his tip between your lips, swiping your tongue over and around it a few times before beginning to inch the rest of him inside of your mouth. You moved your head up and down, gagging slightly when you felt the pressure of holding him too deep for too long against the back of your throat. “Oh, fu—yeah, that’s it. Good, baby, so good.” You hummed in appreciation of his praise, the vibrations making him bite his lip and furrow his brow in concentration, desperately trying to ward off his high before he had gotten to explore you fully. You pulled your mouth off of his cock with a pop that softly echoed in the shower, and he watched as you planted more kisses along him.

He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. The vision in front of you made you feel dizzy; Jim breathing hard, cock bobbing against his stomach, wet from your spit and from the shower, hair falling over his ears, draped in a blanket of water. You rubbed your thighs together, now pruned hand resting on his knee for, what? Permission, maybe?

Jim helped you up from the floor, and you watched him turn the shower handle. In the brief moment before the water stopped completely, it turned freezing cold, and you felt goosebumps erupt over you. You brought yourself closer to Jim, both in an attempt to find warmth and in a silent plea that he continue what had begun in the shower.

Dripping wet—in more ways than one—you found yourself back in your bedroom. Lying on your back, Jim looked over you, then began kissing over the marks he had made on you in the shower. You whimpered, a hand finding his hair and lacing your fingers through his short locks. You pulled slightly when his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, and he groaned in pleasure at the sensation. His hand slowly traced down your stomach, fingers delicately finding their way to your clit before pressing on it lightly.

“Jim—!” Your exclamation motivated him to continue. He sat up a bit, kneading your bud with one hand and holding your cheek in another, holding eye contact as he slid one finger into your soaking wet center. You threw your head back, only then realizing that you hadn’t even had the time to pleasure yourself in God only knows how long. He curled his finger upwards, and your back arched into him. He smirked, clearly proud of what he was doing to you. He shuffled backwards on the bed, still pumping a finger in and out of you while he positioned himself between your legs. You felt the mattress shift under his weight when he straightened himself out onto his stomach, propped up with one elbow.

“So pretty.” You felt his breath fanning over your cunt, and you squirmed. Jim leaned into you, kissing your inner thighs while you wiggled your hips in an attempt to get his attention where you needed it the most. When he finally licked a lazy stripe over your clit, you let out an absentminded sigh, pushing yourself up to him in encouragement. He removed his finger from you, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling, though he immediately made up for the absence of his fingers with his tongue. He continued to lap at you, letting your slick coat his chin, nose brushing your clit. He sucked lightly on your bud, and your hands found his hair again, not sure if you wanted to push him in further, let him taste you until you screamed, or push him away, as your thighs began to tremble. He slid two fingers back into you and twisted them back and forth while his tongue darted over your clit. You squeezed his fingers, moans spilling from your mouth.

“C’mon baby, so good,” he removed his mouth from your core to coo at you, “wanna see you cum for me.” It was whispered into your skin, and you felt his words echo through your body. His lips found their place over your clit once more, and he sucked harder, fingers pumping in and out of you faster.

“Oh, ye—yes, like that, like that, please!” You couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop begging if you tried. Had falling over the edge always felt this good? You didn’t stop to ponder it, busy feeling your body fall victim to the pleasure Jim was gifting you. You moaned, trying to grab at the man who had buried himself between your legs, but he was fully content to stay where he was until he knew you’d ridden out your orgasm. You cried out his name, back arching, body granting him even more access to your pussy, and when you felt him moan at the taste of you, you came hard for him. He placed soft kisses over your cunt, and you couldn’t help the moan you let out when he began pulling his fingers out of you.

You were still panting when he kissed you. Your arms came to rest around his neck, breathing heavily through your nose as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. “Taste so good,” Jim was also clearly short of breath, “you taste that, baby?” His lips found yours again, and he let you suck gently on his tongue, let you taste yourself on him. You shivered; it felt so dirty, Jim still damp with your wet, encouraging you to enjoy the taste your cum had left on him, dipping his tongue deep into your eager mouth and speaking to you like you belonged to him.

You did belong to him, and the thought made your eyes roll back into your head.  

He pulled you into his arms, flipping over so that you were lying on top of him. You found the strength to push yourself up, hands planted on his chest, to straddle him. The feeling of his cock between your legs, still hard, and all for you, made you feel frantic, and you began to roll your hips over him, feeling him tense under you.

“That’s right,” he watched you with hooded eyes, “so eager.”

“Want you to fuck me.” You felt the tip of his cock push between your folds after one especially long roll of your hips, and you didn’t care if you looked pathetic anymore. You’d waited long enough; been so good, so ignorant of the forbidden fruit. One taste, and now you were helpless—completely at his mercy.

“God, say it again.”

“I want you to fuck me, Jim. Please.” You licked your lips before slipping the bottom one between your teeth. His eyes flitted over you, taking in the way you were begging, the way you sat bare, eagerly waiting for his cock. How had he let so much time pass before giving you what you both needed? He lifted you by the waist, encouraging you to stay kneeling above him slightly as he reached another hand down to line himself up with you. The split second before you lowered yourself down onto him felt like forever, but he watched, in awe of you, as you lowered yourself down onto him. You moaned for him when you felt his tip breach your hole, reaching for his chest and grasping at nothing while you continued to take him, inch by inch. You heard him groan out your name, breath going uneven when he finally bottomed out. You stayed like that for a moment, both of you in a trance-like state: You breathed in sync, gazing at each other, smiling like morons.

“I love you.” Jim whispered, placing a hand on your hip and squeezing. You leaned forward, steadying yourself on his shoulders.

“I love you.” You kissed him again, gentler, slower than the previous times. You did have all night—you had a lifetime of all nights with each other.

You began rocking back and forth slowly, allowing yourself time to adjust to the size of him, the feeling of being so full. You felt the tip of his cock brush against your g-spot almost immediately, making you gasp as you chased the feeling of his head nudging you closer to another high.

“God—fuck, you feel so good.” Jim praised, reaching the hand that wasn’t on your hip up to squeeze at your breasts. He licked his finger before bringing it back up, pinching your nipple and rolling over it with his thumb and forefinger. You moaned, back arching, and you started to bounce up and down on him. Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, but he didn’t seem to care, too busy bucking up into your cunt, drunk off the feeling of your juices dripping down his length and over his balls.

He moved both his hands over your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your curves, guiding your movements while you rode him.

“Cum for me again, baby. So good for me, one more time.” He started fucking up into you harder, the sweet noises you made spurring him on. “You can do it, yeah? So good—fuck—so good for me.” Now he was practically begging, slamming you down onto his cock while he pushed you towards another orgasm.

“I—oh, fuck, me, yes! Like that, Jim—yes!” You fell forward, curling yourself up on his chest and bringing your knees up slightly higher next to his ribs to allow him more ease, lifting you up and down. You mumbled incoherently into his neck, licking and kissing and nipping at him while he continued with deep, hard thrusts. You sucked a mark on his neck, and he groaned out your name, one hand coming down over your clit to coax a second orgasm from you.

“Fucking—oh, cum for me, baby. Cum on me like this.” And maybe it was the way you felt his fingers pushing bruises into your skin, or the way he breathlessly demanded you commit such a filthy act, or the way he seemed to be getting just as much enjoyment out of your pleasure as you were; but when you felt his cock pushed forcefully against your g-spot in time with the way he played with you clit, you couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from your lungs, or the way you chanted his name through sobs of pleasure. You clenched around him, squirming and sensitive and so full of his cock. You saw stars, saw how every second of your life had led to this moment, and when the shockwave of pleasure coursed through your body, all you could do was thank the man who had made you feel so good.

“Fu—ck, oh my god,” Jim groaned through clenched teeth, trying to delay his own orgasm so he could enjoy the way you squeezed him for as long as he could. He practically threw you down onto his cock, forcing himself as deep as you’d let him go, and at that moment, the only word that mattered to him was your name. “Where—where can I cum? Tell me, baby, where?” He was gasping, so close to the edge.

“Inside. Please, Jim, want it inside.” You knew it was reckless, knew you’d have to buy a pill later, but the pros far outweighed the cons.

Your words were all it took to send Jim hurtling over the precipice. He pushed himself deep into your cunt, painting your walls with his spend, both of you shivering at the feeling. You moaned quietly into his skin, and Jim wheezed as he took gulping breaths in an attempt to regulate his breathing. You felt his hand come to rest on your back, stroking up and down, the other coming up to your hair, tempting you out of your hiding spot, nuzzled in his neck.

“Ok?” He breathed.

“Mm.” You hummed, rubbing your cheek against his, comforted by the way your faces squished together. “More than ok.”

“I should’ve—I didn’t want you to feel, I d’know—” He couldn’t think of the right words. “I love you. Just wanted you to feel how much I love you.”

You smiled, fucked out and sleepy and satisfied. “You did a good job,” you kissed him, “did I?”

“More than good.” He smiled, throwing your own words back at you in reassurance.

“Will you stay inside a little longer?” You whispered, still relishing in the way he filled you up.

“God, yes,” Jim almost laughed, “don’t have to ask.” You ran your thumb over his cheek, eyelids heavy.

“Is this the new normal?” You posed the question, remembering your earlier rant.

“Yeah. Think so.” Jim splayed his hand out over your back.

“Good.”

The Bird And The Man

Chapter Eight

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: mixed feelings

Ao3

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

You have been trying for weeks to write another book, the drafts are uh… Questionable. The last book, a standalone, was a normal book, with a bit of romance and a bit of adventure. This one is straight debauchery, if anyone read this they would think you are sex-crazed!

Are you?

You have been thinking about your night with Orpheus a lot, sometimes you write about the things. Naughty things. Those papers are hidden away in your wooden wardrobe. Agh, it plagues your thoughts! And though it has been three days since he touched you… You swear you still feel his hands all over you.

“Damn it!” Whispering to yourself as three papers of paper is literally all sex. Or how you imagine sex would be like. Nightmare gave you a taste with only his finger, you wonder what it would be like if he… 

You rub your eyes and lean back against your chair to scratch your back. What time is it? Then you look at the time and see you should have slept hours ago. Three in the morning! You cannot believe you wrote so much debauchery, oh no. Worse is the mess of crumbled pieces of paper around you, other attempts at lust written down.

You groan, maybe you should go to bed! Yet, the bed feels empty these days. A loneliness has settled in as your sheets are cold, you want him here to warm you.

It is funny how needy you feel, after that day you are more physically affectionate with him. You are affectionate naturally but it feels more needed on your side. He enjoys it though, like holding you or sharing his coat with you. You thank God every day for the creature who holds your heart in his hands and his in your hands.

Just thinking about it makes you feel warm, fuzzy, and eager.

“No! Go to sleep!” Scolding yourself. When you close your eyes, your body turns over to lie on your side. Your eyes stared at the wall, the slight cracks in the wall as your eyes followed meaningless patterns. You pull the blankets closer to your body, curling up in a ball as your hand wanders between your legs.

You squeeze your eyes shut picturing Orpheus’ claws between your legs a few days ago. The second you touch your clothed crotch you jerk and pull your hand away, it feels weird— Odd? God, bury your face in the pillow and let out a long whine of despair.

At some point, you fell asleep and woke up to a gentle but sharp knock at the door. You groan, blinking several times, burying your head in the pillow that begs you to sleep some more.

“Hypnos,” Orpheus’ voice calls out to you, “Are you well?”

This makes you check the times. Your eyes are blurry then they focus to see… Oh no, it is twelve in the afternoon!

“Hypnos?” Hearing stumbling and something fall before you open the door slightly, “Good afternoon, no one saw you most of the day and I grew worried.” A gentle voice as his eyes take in the details of your barely awake form. Cute.

You yawn behind your hand then nod, “Sorry,” Rubbing your eyes, “Had to a burst of inspiration last night.”

“Understandable, I have had my share of those. Glad to see you are well. Lunch is ready but I am sure the kitchen staff can make you breakfast if you wish.”

You nod again.

“Also,” He clears his throat as he adjusts his monocle, “If you are free in the afternoon, might you join me in the smoking room?” 

“Sure! Hope you do not mind that I do not smoke.”

“Not at all. All I wish for is your company.”

You smile, “Of course, anything for a friend.”

Orpheus finds that endearing, disappointing, and a pang of sadness. You should be careful who you call friends here; quickly calling those in the same situation as your friend does not mean friendship blooms.

Sure, Eli has said some are easier to befriend and can be called friends. He, Emma, Lucky Guy, Tracy, and Luca; to name a few. But everyone has their own motivations and Orpheus knows none of them are to be trusted.

Himself included though he would prefer your trust to be with him, he will not backstab you— If he must stab you it will be quick and with him looking into your eyes apologetically.

“Take your time. I will be there shortly.” Leaving as you close the door.

.

.

.

.

Mealtimes are usually social time for some of the survivors. The non-social ones might take their meals to their rooms or other places where it is quiet.

When you first arrived here, you had accidentally sat in Norton’s seat as you were anxious and shaking like a leaf. The man had terrified you to the point you left without eating and did not return for dinner.

You would sneak out of your room to eat or hoard food in your room. It was bad until… Orpheus spoke to you when he caught you taking out dishes from your room.

That day you felt like a bird that just flew out of the nest, him there beside you as Eli had encouraged you to join them during dinnertime.

Turns out Norton is not bad, still intimidating but he is true to his word about watching your back.

Being at this dining table watching the others is like being around family. Sure it is probably only a feeling Emma will understand but you imagine what a big family is like.

Busy, busy, a few laughs and conversations. You eat your lunch in peace, a few times greeting those who pass by you. A normal afternoon in the manor.

Upstairs there is a smoking room.

Not many use it as not everyone smokes but few do like Orpheus. You find the man standing in the middle of the room facing the left wall which is decorated with paintings. A smoking pipe in his mouth as he takes a few puffs before taking it out of his mouth and holding it in his hand. His gaze is focused, another puff, and he lets out a sigh shaking his head. There is something very distinguished about him, there he stands in more casual clothing with rolled-up sleeves. His monocle switched for small circular glasses, the picturesque sight of a high society man in leisure.

There is no denying Orpheus is not a handsome man, the type who probably had many ladies around him vying for his attention. From what you heard he never had a partner, he was focusing on his writing but never was unwilling to entertain a lady.

When he looks upon you there is a shift from his intense gaze to a gentle look, a practiced smile the second you smile at him. You wonder how many have ever seen him actually smile, a true smile that reaches his eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Speaking up after realizing you might have been staring for too long.

“Heh,” A small chuckle from him as his head turns in your direction, “Musing.” His gaze goes back to the painting on the wall, “The days after Christmas are always the oddest.”

“How so?” You move beside him until he gestures to you to take a seat. There are a few chairs around with small tables with ashtrays. He sits across from you and facing him you realize his shirt is a bit open, just a few buttons but enough to further show he is relaxing right now.

“Two days of celebrating, sometimes three if you know where to look for more parties,” Lean back against his seat with one leg over the other, “A calm before the storm effect. After those few days, New Year's parties start the year with a bang.”

“Sounds like you enjoy those parties.”

“Occasionally,” Taking a smoke, “Did you?”

You shook your head, “I was at one but that was it.”

“The announcement party.”

“You saw me?”

“In passing. The son you ghostwrote for doesn't hold his liquor well. The man flaunting about you during the private party. You have my condolences for dealing with him.”

“Did you… Read those books?” You once read Orpheus' rare review of books. He word making or breaking an author.

“I did.” He gazes slightly to the left, “You have grown since then. The maturity of a writer is fascinating to witness.” Those dark brown eyes back on you, “Has the manor provided you inspiration?”

You think about the question before answering, “Ma always told me to write what I know, and research what I don't.” Speaking your train of thought out loud, “The people here, all from different walks of life with different reasons for being here. Hmm, maybe, I never thought about it.”

There is a chuckle from the author, a look of you wonder if it is adoration, “Such is the lot of a writer. Art often imitates life, we write what we see then alter it into a new world on paper.”

You nod in agreement, “Do you still write?”

“I do.” Taking a smoke then blowing the smoke away from your direction, “Call of the Abyss takes time but the first draft is complete.” Then he leans forward with his feet on the ground and his arms resting on his thighs, “You? Are you going to continue your book?”

You shrug, “Right now, I'm not sure. My mind isn't cooperating, hah.”

“Writer's block?”

“Oh, nothing like that just…” You look away, “New inspiration.” Nervous laugh.

“There is no shame in switching projects. Perhaps a fresh idea will inspire you to continue your previous book.”

You nod then look at him with a questioning expression, “Have you ever written something… uh… Questionable?”

“Hypnos, my genre of literature is dark fiction,” Raising an eyebrow, “Questionable is often what most use to describe my work.”

“I mean… but what if it was really questionable and yet you are proud of it?”

“There is nothing wrong with pushing the boundaries of our society through literature. Many great works we enjoy had to break out of those limited spaces and flourish by being true to reality through fiction.”

“Even the sexual kind?”

“Especially the sexual kind.” He stands up and you follow as he goes over to the serving cart by the wall with the pool table in the middle. The smoke room is barely used but is very fancy to you. “Does that help?” He twists open the bottle of you guess is bourbon and pours a glass.

“A bit. I doubt I could let this one see the light of day, however.” You shake your head at the offer of a drink, “How can you drink that?”

“As you get used to it.” Drink a small sip of it, “Try it.” Offer his few sips of alcohol in the glass. You take it, smelling it makes your face scrunch up making him smile then your drinking makes him laugh at the way you make sounds of disgust. “Perhaps a bit too harsh for you.”

You socialize with Orpheus the rest of the day, being in his company is like living a dream the young you would be so happy to have.

“Here I will show you.”

High society always seemed like a dream, the glamour and what seemed to be the only way to be happy is with money. To a degree, the latter is true to a point. Watching Orpheus explain billiards, watching him bend over slightly as he breaks the triangle of colored and striped balls. You grip your cue as he tells you it is your turn. You chose stripes. 

“This is not easy at all!”

“Hah, take your time,” Standing to the side as he watches you attempt to get the solid white ball to hit a stripe ball, “Pull back slightly.” He advises as he saw you had pulled the cue too far back and knows already that will make the ball bounce off the table. “Now tap it.”

The white ball hits the other ball but does not go into the hole.

“Orpheus,” Speaking as he prepares for his turn.

“Hm?” His eyes are on the table seeing where to strike and the angle.

“Can you do the thing with the stick behind your back?”

He raises an eyebrow at you then makes a ‘oh’ sound, “Yes.” You stand back watching him move the cue behind his back and strike the white ball as one colored ball is stuck and falls into one of the pockets.

You give him a little clap, “Wow!”

“If you know where and how you are going to strike, tricks like that are easy for show.”

“You make it show easy, Mr. Detective.” Laughing a bit, “My turn!” He hands you the chalk to use on your cue and you do with vigorous twisting at the tip with excitement. The Novelist watching with amusement but a bit of worry, what are you doing?

Then he sees you bend and nearly lay across the table with your leg hooked over it. 

At the position he is behind you, the sight is well, as a gentleman he will not let his gaze linger for too long. You strike the ball but still no win, “Damn it.” Getting off the table and standing there scratching your head.

“Here let me help you.” Placing his cue down on the edge of the pool table, “Hold it like this.” Slipping behind you as if he a piece of your puzzle. Suddenly you are aware of how he smells of cologne and tobacco, his hands are soft but not as nimble as you thought, they brush down your hands as he adjusts not only your positioning but your arm placements. “Now strike.” His voice is so low and close to your ear.

The ball strikes true and removes himself from your person before it can be considered any more inappropriate the move he just made.

“Well done.”

You nod looking away, strange how you miss those few seconds of his warmth, “Thank you!” Standing there trying to hide how flustered you are. That was… Familiar like when Nightmare held you close for the first time, minus the scent of fresh tobacco. The game goes on and your mind wanders to his counterpart, Nightmare, and how different they are. Yet, the same. You can see it because you know Nightmare intimately… Thus you know Orpheus perhaps on the same level? No, you just know a part of him, the part of him that is hidden behind smoke and mirrors.

“Looks like you win, hah!” It is a good game and one you would not mind playing again, “Hm?” The way he looks at you lingers, his gaze as intense as the one you saw when you entered the room.

“What does he have that I do not?”

differences from book -> series: the cufflinks.

context: [december 23, 1953] this is the scene where we're first introduced to the cufflinks. it's christmas and they're serving post-coital realness (i have no other way of explaining this rn).

this is one of the most dramatic differences between the book and the series, because what on earth. this is such a tender moment of rare openness from hawk in the series. it's such a clear declaration of love with the implication of possession and a what's-mine-is-yours kind of deal.

we get the same feeling in the book but in a much darker tone. we see, first of all, how small and undeserving tim feels in the presence of hawk. i'd go as far as to say tim uses the cufflinks to self-harm. "the way one forgets a pain in one place by introducing another somewhere else." tim is actively chasing the pain of loving this man away in the form of causing bodily harm to himself. (🚩 x a million.)

yes, there's tenderness in hawk giving the cufflinks to tim and going as far as putting them into his dress shirt himself -- but the number of times tim doesn't even let himself believe that it's a special thing for him is awful. he thinks he's so undeserving that, in the end, he convinces himself that they were his reward for not showing his emotions! and to add hawk's passiveness with "'i'm going to be late, skippy.'" ✋ don't get me started. the coldest cherry on top -- agh!

overall, this scene makes me feel sick. it's not at all like the series -- and thank god for that! the show made it so much more heartwarming and loving. they look happy, they look like they both love what the cufflinks symbolize -- they adore each other!

context: [april 7, 1954] this never made it into the series, but tim has a boss named tommy mcintyre who is very aware of the situation between tim and hawk, but doesn't really mind it. (this character kind of grew into the roy cohn moment which i thought was ridiculous but this is not the post for that.) klein is another assistant to a different senator who pops up like thrice when they're talking politics.

i really liked tommy as a character, i felt he had really great moments in the book i wished they'd kept in the series, but oh well. again, he knew about tim and hawk and would go as far as to tease them about it. anyway, this is a great example of tim's lies that "people like himself learned to construct a dozen times a day."

context: [december 25, 1954/april 22, 1957] tim is home for the holidays with his sister, frances, at their grandmother's. frances is older and is married with children.

how do i... like how do i even begin.

i put it best in my notes:

honestly, favorite character? absolutely tim's sister. she does everything i wish i could have done for tim -- she's such a supportive force of nature for him, it's so nice to see.

in the show, she's there for him while he's suffering from aids, so she's fully aware of the fact that he's gay and completely devotes all of her time to him anyway. in the book, she shows this unconditional love toward him in the best way she can when she recognizes he's in love with another man.

this is heartbreaking because, in my opinion, that was their escape. she was there and so willing to welcome hawk into her home -- without having ever met him -- because she saw how much tim loved and treasured him. she was ready to love him, too, and to include him in their family. i wonder, sometimes, what would have happened if she had actually ever met him. if that would've ever made a difference in hawk's decisions and the fate of their relationship.

and because tim can't be normal and recognize his self-worth for one second:

also! the difference in using the cufflinks to inflict pain! tim uses it to distract himself, but she uses it to anchor him to the present and pay attention to what she's telling him.

context: [october 16, 1991] hawk is on the phone with his old employee, mary, where she's telling him details of tim's life and death.

..........................

that's all i have to say about that! 😊

Pi3 Day

Pie Day, Pie Day Again

Salim was pleasantly surprised when he got a call letting him know Jason was here in London. Truth be told, Salim didn't expect to see any of the Americans again. He thought of them often, though--Jason specifically. No, Jason only. Many of his waking thoughts were wondering what Jason was doing these days. The marine featured in a number of Salim's dreams, too.

And not all of them were nightmares.

So when he was informed that Lieutenant Jason Kolchek requested his presence at the London Airport, Salim didn't hesitate. He didn't see Jason at first, but then a figure waved at him and called his name. The clothing was unfamiliar, but Salim knew that voice.

"Jason!" he greeted happily. He felt bad for not recognizing his friend immediately, but in his defense, he'd never seen Jason out of combat gear and without that hat on. Jason's dark hair was a little longer than a military buzz-cut; Salim wondered if it always looked that way, or if Jason had grown it out. Either way, it looked good on him. The black shirt he wore was an interesting choice, bearing the graphic of a white snake.

"Holy shit," Jason grinned. "It's so good seein' you." He held out a hand. It was so reminiscent of their last moment that Salim shook it reflexively. Jason tugged, bringing him in for a shoulder-pat hug. Jason let go again before Salim could get his bearings.

"It's good seeing you, my friend," Salim returned. They started to walk out of the airport, falling into step side-by-side easily.

"Thank God Nicky remembered your last name," Jason huffed. "You never fuckin' told me, so I had to ask him just so I could find you in the fuckin' phone book. He thought it was a long shot you'd be here, but I knew you'd wanna stay near your boy."

Salim let him talk, partly because he missed the sound of Jason's voice, and partly because he didn't know what to say. Jason went through so much to find Salim; it never occurred to Salim to go looking for Jason. Then again, this wasn't the first time Jason went above and beyond to find Salim. Salim smiled remembering that moment down in the vault.

"I hear you thinkin'," Jason prodded him.

"Just remembering our fight in the vault."

"You mean when you near took my fuckin' head off with that 'sword' of yours?"

"That 'sword' saved your life, jarhead," Salim retorted. Jason's expression softened a little and he caught Salim's eye.

"Yeah, I know." Salim got the sense Jason wasn't referring to the weapon, and felt his cheeks get hot.

"The 'shield' saved mine," he added. Jason ducked his head at that, but Salim saw a hint of color on those pale cheeks. "Are you hungry?" Salim wondered. "I know plane food isn't very satisfying."

"I'm good," Jason waved him off.

"Nonsense, you traveled all this way. You should at least let me treat you to a meal."

"All right, I guess," Jason conceded with a smile.

There was a pub not too far away. Salim led them inside, where a waiter brought them to a table. Jason frowned at the menu.

"Meat and alcohol in the pie, huh? I could grow to like this country." Salim chuckled at that. "You eat this shit, Salim?"

"Not that shit exactly," Salim said, "but they do make good pies. I think I'll order one with you. Americans normally eat pie as a dessert, don't they?"

"Usually," Jason agreed. "Except chicken pot pie. You ever try it?" Salim shook his head. "I'll make it for ya sometime," Jason promised.

"Really?" Salim was not expecting Jason to even know how to cook, let alone offer to make something. After Jason teasing him about cable TV, he should have known better than to assume things about his friend.

"Sure." Jason's smile grew. "I'd like to learn to make the pies here, too. Mama always said that nothin' beats a home-cooked pie."

Salim must have misunderstood what Jason meant. Surely Jason wasn't suggesting he would go home with Salim. Even if it was just to cook pie, that idea had Salim's heart racing. Wishful thinking, Salim decided with a shake of his head.

"I think we should enjoy these pub-cooked pies first."

Just then the waiter arrived with their food. The two settled into other topics of conversation as they ate. Still, Salim couldn't help thinking about home-cooked pies. Last time he saw Jason, he walked away from the marine to go home.

This time, he might just ask Jason to go with him.

ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ

pairing: ares!bucky x aphrodite!reader

warnings: forced arranged marriage, angst, cheating, liberties with greek mythology canon (i.e. i do what i want with the canon), smut (18+), oral (female receiving), possessiveness, breeding kink, penetrative sex (p in v), angst

inspired by the myth of ares and aphrodite's affair

He walked past those golden gates in glorious armour tainted with blood which rolled quickly onto the grounds, staining the pureness of the home of the gods with the blood of its bastard and that who represented all which was sung in heroic epic poems. The blood of who was meant to be the pure essence of courage and war - yet, unlike his sister, he was never to be known as the tactile, intelligent general. No, he was brutality and blood lust. He was the emotionless soldier and like one, he was no longer cheered on as he returned from war. He was disliked, hated by all his siblings and even his own parents - he was not the rewards of war or even the heroism at the end, he was the brutality and the blood which now stained his face. Everyone sneered at him as he passed by, his helmet dropping as he wished to merely disappear for the evening. 

Blood or how it stained no longer bothered him anymore, his pale hands had stained from so many people which had been slayed and despite the handsome looks inherited from his own mothered, these appeared almost deformed. Almost as if no one this vile, this brutal should look handsome, sculpted even. 

     - Did you win? - a melodic voice played through the room as the satin golden curtains of his room where pushed.

If James considered himself handsome, he knew of no words to describe the woman who stood in front of him, dressed in light fabrics with flowers decorating her hair.  She playfully moved through the curtains, a small smile on her face as she finally showed herself completely to him, a white cloth dangling from her hand. 

    - I always win. - his voice came rough from battle cries yet her face didn’t stray away from softness. - Shouldn’t you be basking in marital bliss? 

    - There’s nothing to be basking on. - she knelled by his side and started to wipe the fresh blood of his face. - I am not one to be particularly found of marriage itself.

     - Aren’t you supposed to be the goddess of love or something?

     - Marriage is not love. 

     - How can someone not fall in love with you, fairest of all women to ever have been dreamed. - he put his hand over hers which was resting on his face.

She looked at him with uncertainty. It was no secret for any god in the pantheon that he carried affection for the goddess of love and beauty herself. He never cared for any other goddess’ charms or most mortals, he was much too busy being an iron fist for his father’s trials. However, she, she was different. The softest most beautiful of women didn’t look at him like everyone else, she didn’t look in horror or in fear. She merely treated him with kindness and softness, always having a kind word to say or a smile to give. The blood didn’t bother her and sometimes he wondered if there was a bubbling sense of war inside of her either - the rumours grew large about it. 

    - I bring love, I don’t receive it for myself.

    - Does your husband not dote on you? - his blue eyes looked into hers and for the first time she avoided his look. She wasn’t a particularly good liar when it came to him. 

Truth was he did not dote on her. She was not to be a loving wife, she was to be a prize, a happy gift from the God of gods to the one who was most ignored. She was a prize and her husband was happy to parade her around for everyone else to see, enjoyed her title as his wife, but he didn’t want her for any more than that. She could only entertain herself with mortal love stories and toying with them so much.  

    - I am not a normal woman. - she chose to reply. - It’s not a normal wedding. 

    - I am not a normal man, Aphrodite. - he stood up. - Yet, if you were my wife, there would not be a single minute of any hour where you wouldn’t be doted upon.

    - I do not need adoration. I have ... I have my followers and those who pray for me to help them fulfil their romantic pursuits.

     - Shall I pray to you then, my goddess? 

     - Don’t start that again. You know we cannot. 

Anger bubbled within him, anger from being overlooked, for not receiving that which should’ve been his own happiness. He’d done the hard working expecting nothing until the day she’d appeared in his life and she was all he wanted - yet, here she was, long gone. 

    - We were supposed to be. You ... - he clenched his fist attempting to calm himself but failing. - I did everything just so you could be mine. So that my father would be pleased and allow you to be my wife, so I ...

    - James. - she called him his name, not the one mortals had given him or his parents called him. His name, the one he chose, the one he’d rather hear. If he was called by it, he was no longer god of war and courage, he was just a man, no less feeling than the ones who worshipped him. - Please don’t dwell on things you cannot change. 

    - All the blood I spilled and all the lives I’ve claimed have all been in your name. - he knelled in front of her as if she were the goddess of all gods. Perhaps she could be in her rage, outside the loving energy she’d been so known to give. - I don’t think anyone has given you any more sacrifices than me and I cannot stand the thought of not seeing you be loved.

There she stood attempting to forget those words, those very sweet words of the only man she’d ever wished to be betrothed to. She knew why she was married to her husband, she was a gift to appease the ignored son of Hera and Zeus, the one whose beauty and own traits made her the perfect wife to parade around. She was what he wanted so Hera could be freed and had little to no regard if she wanted to be married or ever considered a potential wife. Perhaps they should’ve given her to the other ignored son, yet she doubted they noticed him unless a war was waging on. He hadn’t been the particular favourite during the battle of Troy after all.  

    - Love marriages are not for us. 

    - Marriages are not for me, my goddess. 

    - Some mortal woman is gonna catch your eye, one day.

    - Perhaps. - he got up on his feet, his hand coming up to hold hers up to his lips. - But I doubt she’ll ever be you and as such I’ll never be satisfied. 

    - James, we will never be satisfied. 

He scoffed, a smirk forming on his lips as he pushed a stray hair away from her beautiful face. It felt forbidden to even touch her with his tainted hands, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fell warm and forgiven for all his sins whenever he touched her. He was never one to believe in worship but he’d worship her every day of every year for eternity. 

   - I thought as a goddess of lust, you’d know about being satisfied. 

   - Perhaps if you’d been my husband ... - she tapped his cheek. - I would’ve known about satisfaction. Rumours about you run wild down there. 

   - Do you query mortal women about satisfaction?

   - I do not need to query them. I am the goddess of love and lust, I know things without needing to ask. 

   - Did you know you were gonna marry him?

   - I’m the goddess of love, not the goddess of arranged marriages. - she attempted to joke about her situation but James had become too good at seeing through her. Not a good look when one’s a goddess who’s supposed to be impossible to read. - I have to go. I will see you at supper tonight. 

   - You won’t, my goddess. 

   - It wasn’t a question or a request. - she threw her hair over her shoulder before disappearing from his resting quarters.

James couldn’t help but smirk at her behaviour for there was only one being in all of Earth who would dare to order the god of war around. The last thing he meant to do was attend a supper in celebration of war winnings, a supper which was more for his sister than for him. Yet, the moment his eyes laid on his goddess, her body covered with gold and pink fabrics, he couldn’t help but convince himself this would be a good supper. She smiled at the laughter and jokes coming from the other gods, yet she was still sat by her husband, one of Hephaestus many jewellery gifts settled around her neck - like a chain. Jealousy pooled inside of him, the tight control he had of his ability slightly cracking, causing the laughter and chatter to turn into petty gossip and fighting in some minor, weaker gods. Her eyes met his as she discovered who was influencing the sudden fighting. Through the middle of petty allegations, she rose from her seat, knowing he’d follow her and possibly stop influencing a fight onto an otherwise good yet cynical supper. 

He followed her through his father’s house, always slightly ahead of him, only her long gown being seen by him until she met a wall. She turned around, hearing the foot steps get closer and soon enough he appeared in front of her, bathed in candle light. 

    - How would you feel if I influenced everyone to just suddenly become lustful?

    - While I would enjoy seeing what you can influence gods to do, my goddess, I didn’t entirely mean to cause a fight. 

    - The God of War didn’t mean to cause a fight? - she crossed her arms. - How interesting.

    - I’m not the only god of war. Honestly, my goddess, I’d rather finish them than start them. 

    - You’ll upset your father.  

    - He’s always upset at me, Y/N. - he taunted her, using the name she’d chosen for herself while at Cyprus. He found it quite funny how she refused to refer to herself as the name given to her by her cult, saying that risen from foam was a terrible way to be named. - Have you taken it upon yourself to watch over me?

   - Have you taken it upon yourself to stare down my husband each time you see him? 

   - Is he overly sensitive?

   - Don’t be mean.

   - I’m not being mean. You don’t love him. - he accused her of a truth she knew all too well. Everyone knew it all too well. She was forced into the marriage and barely spent time with her husband, choosing to instead dwell on what human relationships were happening in her favourite cities. -  We were supposed to be. You know we were supposed to have been wed. 

   - We were never supposed to be. Your father would have to be insane to wed the God of War to a primordial god’s daughter. It’s asking for trouble. 

   - Then tell me you don’t love me. Safe me from this torment and tell me you don’t love me. 

She was an adept liar, a part of love which was dark and had become part of her nature as a survivor goddess during the Titan age. She was smart and covered that with the coat of stereotypes about female love and softness. Despite this, there was one thing she couldn’t do - lie about love. Just like he couldn’t lie about bloodshed, she couldn’t lie about love. If she tried, the words would just die down, silencing her. James awaited, the time spent torturous as he realised she could shatter him - yet, even if she loved him, it would equally destroy him, maddening him to the point of returning to war merely to forget her face.

    - You know I can’t say that.

    - Then save me from my misery. - he took a step towards her. 

Her features shivered as she looked up at the tall, handsome god of war in front of her. Even the feeling of her gown against her skin made her upset, as the mere act of breathing increased a tension which was supposed to have broken a long while ago. Her bottom lip dropped as her gaze lowered to the ground before returning to his eyes, a soft resolve forming on her otherwise calm face. Her right hand touched his plate armour covered chest while the other snaked around his neck before pulling him into a kiss. 

James was no innocent. He’d kissed other women before both mortal and goddesses but kissing her, the goddess of love and beauty, was something else entirely and whatever gentleman principles he held close to him, faded away as her soft lips moved against his. The soft kiss turned bruising as his hands held her hips and pushed her against the concrete wall. Her hand moved from his chest to cup his face through the kiss until they needed to break it off to catch a breath. He looked down at her through fluttered lashes before returning to kiss her, this time his lips wandering from hers to her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips as he kissed and bite down her skin, leaving his mark, marking her as his. She was his and he was hers - end of story. 

   - We can’t do this. - she spoke, as her loyalty to her husband weakened with each kiss laid on her skin. - I shouldn’t.

   - Don’t care. - he kissed up her body once more, his forehead leaning over hers. - Put me out from my misery, my goddess. 

She couldn’t find it within herself to be loyal anymore. Her lips bruised against his as he messed with her gown, soft pastel fabrics falling to the ground leaving the goddess naked in front of him merely adorned in jewellery. His jaw locked as he was once reminded of who had made that jewellery, who had gifted it to her and without any consideration, his hand wrapped around the gold around her neck, breaking it onto the ground before he returned to kiss her. 

   - You’re mine. - he said wantonly, his hand flying to her neck with a soft grip. - You will never lay with anyone the way you lay with me. 

   - James ... - she moaned out his name as her thighs clenched against one another. With a knowing smirk, he dropped to his knees, swinging on her legs over his shoulder. 

He kissed an invisible path from her knee to her inner thigh, biting onto the supple skin before his tongue licked a stripe through her folds to her clit. She shuddered, her hand clasping over mouth fearful anyone may hear them. However, James had no such worries as once he finished with the testing lick, he delved into her as if he were a starved man.

   - You are mine. - he licked yet another stripe before stopping, blowing cold air onto her warm folds. - Mine!

She whined, her face rubbing against the wall as he grabbed her ass and delved deeper, his tongue plunging into her while his finger drew lazy circles around her clit. She found it hard to keep standing, her hand still tightly pressed against her mouth. 

   - Take it off. - he stopped his motions, raising up to her level. She looked at him confused and frustrated before he pushed her hand down. - I want to hear you.

   - They could he ...

   - I don’t care. - his finger trusted inside of her, her whines now coming clear as he curled them. - You’re mine, they should hear you’re mine.

James knew the consequences of his actions, he knew them way too well but once he heard the sweet sounds of her moans, calling out his name as he added another finger. She was beautiful, she looked beautiful with her mouth agape, calling out for him, her walls clenching around his fingers until a high pitched moan had her come undone. He shushed her as he continued to lazily thrust his fingers in and out of her hole. 

   - You ... - he gripped her jaw. - You are mine, you’ll always be mine, no matter who the fuck you’re married too.

Her hands nervously and quickly did his trousers down, his cock sprung up and hit his stomach, a sight which she was sure to never forget. The look in her face changed as she gripped his cock and started to move her hand up and down - he knew he was in the presence of the goddess of lust in that second. He grunted, holding himself up by pressing his hands on each side of her hand as she quickened her movements. She gripped his cock, circling her thumb around his tip which was leaking with precum. 

   - Stop. - he moved his hand to stop hers once his breathe started to quicken, the vein on his neck popping as he attempted to ground himself. - I wanna finish inside of you.

She kissed him, her nails raking up his back as he led his cock to her hole and almost as if the air had been punched out of her lungs, he thrust into her. Her nail dug into his back as he immediately set a quick pace, his hands gripping onto her hips so he could thrust fast into her. She swore to herself she’d never felt something like that, the texture of his cock against her walls as addicting as any drug or ambrosia. 

   - We are meant to be. - he groaned, rutting against her as he took her lips into his once more. - You’re gonna be mine. 

   - James ... - she moaned through the kiss, her moans almost echoing from his mouth. 

   - Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with my cum. - his hand gripped her jaw, so her eyes were looking into his. - You’re gonna be leaking with me for days. 

   - Can’t ... - she whispered, but she couldn’t deny how exciting it felt, she couldn’t deny how her walls clenched around him. 

   - Yes, you can. - his movements appeared angrier, his pelvis hitting hers in a bruising pace. - We’ll start a new age, my goddess.

The elastic band snapped and all the tension faded away as the breathe exited her lips, her head lulling against his chest as he continued to thrust into her abused hole until with a grunt, ropes of white painted her walls, sealing future which both of them would only consider the next day. His arms wrapped around her, holding her against him just so she could hear her heart beat, the sweet soft sound of the humanity all of them held. He loved her, he would always love her, even if it had to be in hidden corners of the Olympus. 

     - I need to go, they’ll wonder where I am. - she said softly against his skin.

     - I know. - he kissed her forehead. - Just not yet. 

     - We were supposed to be, Ares. - she looked at him with sadness in her eyes. 

     - What an eternity that would’ve been. 

three

Chapter 3 of I’ll Be Back Again To Stay

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x single mom!reader

Warnings: vague sexy inner monologue

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: surprise! a slow burn

Santiago feels like a schoolboy.

He can’t remember the last time anyone made him feel this way, like his heart is trying to escape from behind his ribs. It had to have been when he was in middle school, before he started wrestling and grew out his curls and then joined the army.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop thinking about you, about how your hand would feel in his or how your shampoo smells. How you look when you first wake up or before you go to sleep. He’s consumed with the desire to know everything about you, and he hates it.

He hates it because he knows that’s not something he deserves. He doesn’t deserve the perfect girl, a wonderful wife and a joyful daughter. He’s meant to be alone, forever Tio Santi, as much as he wishes he could be more.

Before, it's always been a fleeting thought, gone in a moment. On days like Frankie’s wedding or Maria’s birth, he would think about what it would be like to settle down, to forgive himself the way Frankie and Will and Benny had.

But now, with you, it’s near constant.

And he feels gross about it, feels it festering and growing and consuming him from the inside out. You barely know the man, and here he is, having domestic fantasies about you at all hours of the day.

Really, he’d be fine being your friend, it already seems like you enjoy being around him. Maybe a few days more and you’ll consider him a friend the way you do Will. Maybe a few days more, and he could be something more.

He won’t let himself think like that.

You’ve just met, you’re only here for a few weeks, you don’t want anything like that.

So he’s settled for offering to drive you around instead of asking you to coffee or dinner or drinks like a normal person. But you’d been complaining about not getting a rental car and how bad you felt whenever you needed to ask Will or Syd to drive you or borrow their cars when you needed something.

He really was just trying to be helpful.

You have to refrain yourself from texting him as soon as you get Inez tucked in. You really aren’t sure what it is about him, but you can’t stop thinking about him. You’ve met plenty of attractive, polite men. Hell, you’ve met three this week, but something about Santiago just sticks out to you.

Maybe it’s that whole brooding loner vibe he gives off one minute, and the next he’s laughing in the most beautiful way at some jab Frankie made at Benny. He’s an enigma, a mystery, and you need to know more.

But you think better of texting him, and instead turn off your phone and go to sleep. And no one needs to know that the man you dream about shares a striking resemblance with Santiago, especially not Sydney.

Though, you can’t control yourself for very long. The next morning, after you’ve gotten Inez and yourself all fed and dressed and ready for the day, you end up texting him. You can’t believe how much you’re overthinking it, typing and retyping the message twenty times over.

Finally, you settle on hey Santiago! There are a few things I need from Target, if you’d be a willing chauffeur?

You hit send and immediately cringe, frantically searching Google for how to delete a text message when your phone dings

Haha, I’d love to. I can pick you up in an hour. You’re staying at Will’s right?

God, your heart just about beats out of your chest. You send him a quick yep, that sounds perfect! before shutting off your phone and throwing it on the bed. You can’t remember the last time a guy made you feel this way, made you get all jittery just at the thought of sending him a text, of receiving one back.

You’re mortified at your internal monologue, scolding yourself for taking advantage of the situation. It’s not like he wants anything from you, a single mom to the most stubborn little girl on the planet, only in the same town for three weeks, and during the holidays no less.

There’s no way in hell that Santiago wants to be anything more than your friend, and even that’s pushing it. He’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, looking like he’s been sculpted by the gods themselves, and he’s charming with a wicked sense of humor. What could he possibly want from you?

Santiago is having the very same internal debate on his drive over. It’s not like you asked him out, you just wanted him to help you run errands so you didn’t have to keep bothering Sydney and Will. He doesn’t let himself ruminate on just how domestic it is, running errands with somebody.

That’s something that happens in a long term, stable relationship. Not some fling or one night stand. It’s something that Santiago hasn’t known for years, has never really known. So he doesn’t scold himself too hard for the domestic little fantasy he creates on the drive over.

And then there you are, looking fantastic in what he can only assume is comfortable-yet-presentable clothing, with Inez in a tutu and her lime green winter coat. He hurries out of the car to help you both in, glowing when you thank him.

“You don’t even know how big of a help you are,” you say, buckling yourself into the passenger seat after making sure Inez was secure in her booster seat.

“It’s not a problem.” He responds, hoping you can tell how genuinely he means it.

You make small talk, with Santi overthinking every single thing he says or asks. He wonders if you can tell just how high strung he is, or if you can’t possibly tell the reason. It’s a tad bit awkward, in the way most friendships are when they start, but you find him all the more endearing the more you talk.

More and more, you’re able to see that his hard, brooding exterior is just a mask he’s created, and you’re desperate to know what soft underbelly he’s hiding. You don’t want to seem like you're digging or prying, so you keep your curiosity at bay for now.

And then, from the backseat, Inez lets out the most theatrical gasp, making your head whip around immediately.

“Do you have a puppy?” She asks, voice full of wonder and her chubby little fist clasped onto a leash Santi keeps in his backseat as a spare.

“He’s a bit too big to be a puppy anymore.” As Santiago speaks, he’s picturing Toby, his behemoth of a Golden Retriever, a sweet dog standing almost as tall as Inez. “But maybe I can bring him around some time, he loves meeting new people.”

He glances over at you for your approval, and sees you smiling as Inez chatters happily in the backseat, talking about how badly she wants a puppy but you won’t let her have one and which ones of her schoolmates have dogs and how she also wants a pony and a kitten and a bunny.

Then, Santiago’s pulling into the parking lot and you’re out and helping Inez unbuckle in a flash, keeping her tiny hand in yours as you walk through the parking lot.

“Is there a certain time we need to get back?” Santi asks, keeping pace with you and Inez, “Does she need to nap or anything like that?”

You sigh, “No, Inez stopped napping when she was three.”

He can’t help but smile at the exasperated look on your face.

When you get into the store, Inez refuses to ride in the cart, so Santiago offers to push it while you hold her hand. He briefly thinks about how nice it feels, the way the conversation flows as you wander through the store, how domestic it all seems, that in another life, this could be his life.

But he doesn’t let himself dwell for long, checking back into the reality where you’re only here for three weeks and absolutely want nothing more than friendship from him. Which, he really doesn’t mind. He’s just lucky he gets to spend any time with you.

He doesn’t know that you’re thinking the same thing: how easy it feels to be here with him, how seamless it is. But you don’t say anything, because surely he’d think you’re crazy. He just offered to drive you around because he’s a nice person, and here you are daydreaming about it.

Inez, though, is having the time of her life, unaware of your, or Santiago’s, plight. She’s discovered that not only can you rarely say no to her, your friends find it practically impossible. She ends up with a new coloring book and two packages of sprinkles, because she’ll only eat waffles or pancakes if there are sprinkles.

She’s always grateful, though, giving you lots of hugs and saying “thank you” over and over again. You don’t mind having to pay a few dollars for coloring books if it means you get to see that adorable smile of hers.

Santi’s wrapped around her finger too. He listens intently to her nonsensical stories as you walk through the store, and you can see him taking note of all of the toys she points out.

Did you even stand a chance at not falling for him?

Sooner than you’d like, you’re finished shopping and loading back up into Santi’s car. Inez pages through her new coloring book as you and Santiago sit in silence, both of you trying to figure out what to say.

“Hey…” he starts, and you immediately turn your head to give him your full attention, “if you and Inez ever want to get out of the house, I’d be happy to show you two around, take you out to lunch or something.”

“You did promise Inez could meet your puppy,” you respond, trying to stop yourself from full-on squealing.

“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckles, shaking his head, “Well, Toby loves to meet new people, as long as they pay attention to him.”

“That works out great, because Inez loves dogs.”

“Puppies are my favorite!” She shouts from her car seat, making both you and Santi chuckle.

He drops you off, and the only reason you don’t invite him inside is because it isn’t your house. Otherwise, you’d be offering to make dinner or coffee or anything else to make him stay a bit longer.

Though, with the questioning waiting for you, you’re almost glad you didn’t bother asking him to stay.

“Did you have fun on your little date?” Syd asks as soon as you step through the door, wiggling her eyebrows.

“God, you’re awful,” is your only response as you set your bags down on the counter before helping Inez out of her shoes and coat.

“Oh please, you can’t tell me that you don’t think Pope’s attractive.”

“Pope?” You ask, eyebrows raised at the nickname. Sydney simply shrugs, “I dunno, it’s what the guys call him.”

“And I never said he wasn’t attractive, I said we weren’t on a date. He drove me to Target, big deal.”

“Yeah, big deal. Why else would he drive you all over the place if he wasn’t totally in love with you?”

“Because he’s a good person? Not everyone has ulterior motives for everything they do. Besides, I’ve known him for literally two days, there’s no way he’s in love with me.”

And while Santiago might not have said he loved you, he certainly felt something more than friendship towards you.

He wished he didn’t, though. He wished he could think about anything other than how nice it was to just be near you, to occupy the same space as you. For just a few moments, his mind quieted down and he didn’t feel the need to run, to hide. He simply enjoyed the time he was spending with you, before he could no longer live in the little bubble he designed.

When he returned home, Toby was beside himself with excitement, jumping up on Santi’s bad knees and wagging his tail. Santi had brought him home a few months ago, when he was just a little puppy that could be carried around. Even though he’s much larger now, Toby still acts like a lap dog.

It’s amazing how much Santiago loves his dog, especially after how reluctant he was to get one. He was perfectly fine alone, spending all day with no one but himself. Now, though, he can’t imagine a day without his furry menace begging at his feet anytime he eats or climbing on top of his stomach as he watches TV.

It makes him feel more stable, more tethered to his life. He can’t run off to another country when he has Toby to take care of. He would never tell anyone, but he likes having something that needs him, that relies on him to live. Some days, on the bad days, that’s the only reason he gets out of bed.

As much as he complains about the dog’s energy, or the way he jumps up onto Santiago’s bad knees, he can’t imagine a day without his furry little sidekick, even if he’s not so little anymore.

When Santiago finally falls into bed, he can’t even begin to fall asleep, and not for the normal reasons caused by his deteriorating body. He can’t stop thinking of you, his mind won’t drift away.

It’s not all dirty, though, most of it is domestic in a way that makes Santi’s chest feel tight, makes his muscles contract, ready to bolt. He thinks of what it would be like to wake up next to you, to admire you in the early morning light, to always see you before he falls asleep and right when he wakes up.

But, there are thoughts that are much less pure.

How reverend would you let him be, he wonders. Would you let him praise you with his touch and his tongue? Would you let him commit you to memory, to leave marks and bruises and bites to remind you of him? Would you let him study you like an artifact, like the statues he stared down when his mother made him go to church?

It’s fitting, he thinks, because you’re nothing short of a goddess, the closest thing to perfect he’s ever seen. He wonders what you’d sound like, breathless and falling apart in his arms. He wonders if you’d leave marks, scratches down his back to match with the silver scar trailing down his neck. What would you look like, all blissed out and drunk on him?

But he shakes those thoughts away, to the best of his ability. He’d rather have you as a friend than only have you once. He’s practically addicted already, he knows he’d never be able to see you go if he kissed you, fucked you.

So he resigns himself to longing stares he hopes you don’t see, stars in his eyes that he hopes you’re able to look past. Because he’s not sure he’ll be able to survive if you notice, if by some chance you feel the same and then you leave him all alone again, with no one but his dog and his friends, all who have their own lives to deal with.

After all the shit he’s been through, he’s certain that would end him, once and for all. Not his botched surgery, or the drug lords he hunted, it would be you, an angel on earth, with a brilliant laugh and a quick wit, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Somehow, he manages to slip off to sleep while his thoughts keep whirling. He isn’t surprised when he dreams of you, but he is surprised by how disappointed he feels when he wakes up in the middle of the night and realizes it was all a dream, and that’s all his life with you could ever be: a fantasy.

Tags: @disabledameron @campingwiththecharmings @itspdameronthings @stevenngrant @andromeda-dear @loonymagizoologist @welcometostayingawake @outmodead @pakhiya

The Cedars Have Eyes Ch. 16

Characters: Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Synopsis: Death.

Authors Note: I’m not even attempting to do the pilgrim-y dialogue. Sorry not sorry.

Time had lost all meaning down in the crypt. You didn’t know how many days have passed, but you knew you were exhausted. Your body couldn’t handle much more.

Crackstone had grown so strong that he no longer looked like the walking dead. Rather he was beginning to look like what you assumed to be his former self from hundreds of years ago. Alias, however, was finally at death’s door. He lay crumpled at Joseph Crackstone’s feet, but the man Alias claimed to have loved him didn’t seem to care at all.

Rowan was still in high spirits and you wished she were to have stayed quiet, “You think we are an abomination from God? You sir are the abomination!”

She had taken any free opportunity to ridicule the man and he was beginning to get fed up with her.

“Release her, Alias.” You were wondering how Crackstone could still be giving orders to the man that lay unmoving on the floor. Much to your surprise, Rowan’s vines came undone, dropping her to the floor.

Rowan was disoriented, but she scrambled to her feet, moving towards Crackstone. You wished she would have tried to escape. You screamed, “Rowan, no!”

He moved swiftly, first attempting to hit her with his cane. She caught it in one hand, sending her other fist to hit him. Crackstone caught her fist and quickly lifted his leg, planting a foot in her stomach, sending her to the floor. Once she was down, Crackstone took the opportunity to literally kick her while she was down. Any time she time she attempted to move or lift herself, he kicked her. Even when she stopped moving, he hit her with his cane.

“Stay down. Maybe now you will keep your whore mouth shut.” You watched as he spat on her, and left her bleeding and, most likely, broken on the crypt floor.

You were absolutely helpless. How were you supposed to save everyone? The cedars made a mistake. You were there to destroy the forest, not save it.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you stared down at Rowan, hoping to see her move. Just one indication that she would be okay. Nothing came, instead the rush of pain began in your body once again. This was going to be the way you died.

You awoke to a commotion. You were blurry eyed from the lack of energy, your head lolled to the side, but you could make out the scene in front of you. Since when did Larissa know how to handle a sword?

Larissa had exchanged her normal dress for the clothes she wore hiking. The blade felt strange in her hand. She had never been known for her athleticism, but she certainly would try her best. Larissa was angered by the death of the forest around her precious Nevermore. Seeing Rowan on the floor and you hanging lifeless brought a new rage to her.

With every clash of her sword against the pilgrim’s cane, she grew more confident in her abilities. You watched in horror, through your exhaustion you began to struggle against your vines. You wanted to help her. Larissa shouldn’t have come here. She should be somewhere safe.

Larissa seemed to be doing well, except for the occasional moment where has cane would come down against her side or leg, causing her to whimper in pain. Maybe just maybe, if she could wound him and get him near the vines, you could begin to take the energy from him. You weren’t even thinking about the potential pain.

Larissa continued to battle with Crackstone, pushing him closer and closer to the throne. You were beginning to think that there may be a chance. Larissa lunged when she should have blocked. He struck her hard against the face, sending her stumbling into his throne.

Crackstone looked directly at you with a smile, the tip of his cane digging into Larissa’s neck, “I told you I would start with the shapeshifter.”

He severely underestimated her and her long legs. With all of her strength, she kicked him in the knee, sending him towards her as he groaned in agony. She raised her sword and impaled him, using his own momentum. He gasped, dropping to his knees, hand’s grasping the arm of the chair.

Larissa slipped away from him and rushed to you, Her hands reached up to your face. For once, she raised herself on her tiptoes to kiss you. She sounded so relieved as she spoke, “I told you I would save you. I told you.”

You smiled, whispering, “I love you.”

You knew what needed to be done and you wouldn’t survive it. The inside of your torso burned and the fire began spreading into all of your limbs. You had to stay conscious and pull every last drop of energy from Crackstone. Tears ran down your face, the energy reversal was going to be long and drawn out.

Larissa was grasping at your face, she could feel the warmth growing in your cheeks, “Fern, what’s wrong?”

There was no reply from you. You could feel Crackstone growing weaker. Even through the pain, you knew that Joseph Crackstone was getting weaker.

The energy flowing from him must have been as equally painful as your experience. The man was writhing in pain as he gripped the throne. He began aging rapidly, ripping the youth and power from him that he so desperately wanted.

Larissa was left frozen, watching the life taken from one man and given back to the forest above. You never became acclimated to the pain. It burned and rushed through you. Revenge was sweet. You ripped the energy from his flesh and bones. You kept pulling energy from him until Crackstone was no more than a pile of dust on the floor.

There was no stopping the energy flow. It kept tearing at you. You felt the vines begin to unravel. The pull of the energy back to the forest was so strong, the final bit of Alias was taken as well. You were next.

You couldn’t stop it. The forest was going to take every last bit of your life as well. Slowly, the pain began to dull and you felt your lungs give way.

You drop from the vines, into Larissa’s arms. She sunk to the floor with you, shaking you, the tears beginning to flow from her eyes, “Fern. Fern, wake up. Fern, please.”

There was no waking you. She knew you were gone.

Link to Chapter 17

Tease a cat a little too much and you might get more than you asked for...

AO3 / FFN

Pairing - All sides of the square

Prompt - ‘Tease’

Summary -

If he had his kitten ears right now, they would have been plastered against his hair out of pure embarrassment and perhaps be just as red as his real ears.

"Shall we get back to work?" His voice came out low and raw, clearly affected by the proximity and tension and the knowing twinkle in her eyes did not help matters at all. Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, Marinette's smile grew and the warmth in her face increased by ten folds as if she was seeing all of him without an obstacle in her way.

"Whenever you're ready."

Little did he know how much effort it took for her tongue to keep down the 'mon Chaton' from slipping out...

(Or, Ladybug figures out Chat Noir’s identity because she constantly stares at his and Adrien’s lips and becomes a little cheeky about it.)

~(x)~ . . . It took Chat Noir everything for his voice to not raise higher and higher in pitch as he tried his utmost best to continue the conversation, going on about his day without clueing in his civilian identity all whilst his Lady continued to watch him intently, her pretty sky blues rooted to his mouth wordlessly. Like he was a piece of a jigsaw puzzle or a lucky charm she needed to figure out as if her life and the rest of the world depended on it. The feline boy self-consciously licked his lips, internally praying to all the gods out there (that were at least an ounce more reliant than Plagg the camembert glutton) to help him keep his cool. Hopefully, his lips weren't too chapped or bruised from all the anxious lip-biting he did this morning at school from worrying over Marinette for the umpteenth time (she tripped at least thirty-six times today no thanks to her sleep deprivation! Thirty-six times!!! How many bones would she have broken if he weren't there to catch her every single time!?). Regardless of that, he always took good care of himself on a daily basis, especially his lips! And his wonderful Lady was still staring at him as if she was in some sort of a deep trance... "Is...is there something on my face?" He finally asked timidly, his tan skin taking on a flustered strawberry-pink hue when he noticed just how small the gap was between them and how he could feel the magnetising heat of her body just mere inches away from his. Ladybug was quick to snap out of what ever stupor she was in, her face taking on the same embarrassed kissed rose colour as her partner's and her pupils constricting from panic. "N-No! Nope! Zilch! Nada! Hahaha!" She took a couple of steps back, ignoring the arm he raised towards her as if he was silently wishing for her to come back to him (his kitten ears adorably plastered against his golden hair and his belt tail drooping against la Tour Eiffel's beam). "I just got lost in my thoughts, sorry, mon Chaton," Ladybug composed herself quickly but her complexion still held that pretty pink glow and it took everything for her Minou to not pepper her rosy cheeks with butterfly kisses to express all the love he holds for her. He quietly sighed in relief, glad that his Lady was relatively back to normal (to some extent). He smiled charmingly and raised an amused brow under his mask, emerald greens twinkling with his standard mischief. "Oh? What could have captivated my sweet Lady's mind as I was talking about my miaw-vellous day~?" He placed the tip of his baton onto the surface and leaned against the weapon as if he was a curious little schoolgirl, batting his long lashes and his faux tail swirling behind him with feline inquisitiveness. The pleasant grin he wore was quick to drop to a frown the second his Lady went beet red instantaneously, her watery blues refocusing on his lips anew and a kettle-like high-pitched squeal escaping her tight-lipped mouth. He wouldn't have been surprised if steam started to seep out of her ears too. And this mannerism was practically identical to his Princesse- "It's nothing! Nothing you need to know- hahahaah! Well! Look at the time! Oh no- I totally should sleep right now- hahaha! See you, Chaton!" The flustered heroine didn't even get a chance to yo-yo away, her partner quickly clasping her hand with desperation (and she could have sworn that she heard a soft kitten-like mewl of protest leave his throat). Peering back over her shoulder slowly, audibly swallowing and trying her best to remain as calm as possible, her blues met her Chat Noir's greens. "My Lady? Did...did I do something wrong? Or say something wrong? I'm sorry if I did...please don't go," He tightened his protective grip slightly over her tiny but hardworking hand but she was much more than capable of escaping his clutches with ease and darting away. The fact that she stayed and listened warmed up his pounding heart and the way her expression beautifully softened turned his entire being to goo. His Lady then smiled tenderly, turning her body back around to face him properly and placing their joint hands against her chest, all whilst her skin remained a brilliant sakura hue. "Mon Chaton, don't worry. You didn't do anything wrong at all. I promise," She squeezed her fingers around his, her heart beating so fast against his gloved hand in a rhythm that matched his so wonderfully. "I just...it's just civilian stuff. I'll get over it. Don't ever think it's your fault, silly Chaton," And then, unexpectedly, she brought their joint hands to her plump, sugary lips, his knuckles grazing the supple flesh and she softly kissed the appendage. Chat Noir felt his entire body go from a flickering flame to a wild inferno immediately, his whole face and neck blooming with a red so prominent, it gave the heroine's suit a run for its money. His heart somersaulted inside his chest at high speeds and all the words on his tongue melted into nothing but a discombobulated, quiet whine. "I'll stay just a little longer. After all, aren't you the one who's always on my case to go to sleep on time? Wouldn't want to let my partner down, would I?" She has virtually destroyed him. He was utterly wrecked. So, so wrecked. And all he could do was nod dumbly, a lopsided and dreamy smile resting on his lips that oozed with lovesickness and adoration without pulling any punches. The very same lips that his Lady proceeded to glance at once again, only to smirk in a manner that would match his mischievous kwami's nature and not give him a single clue of what was going on through her mysterious yet spectacular mind. 'Oh, my Lady~!!!!!!' ~(x)~ Marinette was staring at him. At him!!! Adrien tried his best not to fidget too much on his seat, keeping himself occupied by finishing off his indistinguishable notes on his sheet of paper all whilst his heart soared blissfully. The person he absolutely adores and doubtlessly admires so, so much (shining under the same starlight that glitters over his Lady) was watching him! The very same girl he's always, always wanted to be closer with and bask in her presence was studying him rather than averting eye contact and keeping her distance like she usually does! He wasn't surprised with the way the heat rushed to the apples of his cheeks and the second he bit his bottom lip, he could have sworn that he heard a light, airy sigh leave Marinette's pretty pink lips. By instinct, he finally looked up towards her on the opposite side of the small (so, so small) table they were seated on in the library, his curious sight capturing the wonderfully content and dreamy expression that his Princesse wore. One hard-working hand resting on the side of her head, supported by her elbow. Her skin blooming with a beautiful shade of sakura and rose. Her baby blue eyes glittering under her dark fringe and resting their gaze on his frame. Her sweet, kissable lips shaped in a ghost of a smile. Was it...was it because of him? Someone as shy and quiet and awkward as...him...? . "Marinette?" Her name left his mouth before he could think, the boy quick to curse himself as she automatically snapped out of her enchanted state and jumped in her seat like his alter ego's namesake. He hoped, hoped, hoped to death that she wouldn't run off with a silly excuse and leave him behind in her dust. That she wouldn't run away somewhere so far away that he could never find her again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," He gently leaned in closer, their knees brushing under the table and his pleading hands resting on one of hers upon the surface. Thankfully, for once, luck was on his side and she relaxed just a smidge under his warmth, averting eye contact from his brilliant greens and finding the chair near them more interesting. The sweet red on the apples of her cheeks remained and he felt her pulse thrumming under his touch, the boy wondering just why it was so fast. "It's not your fault, Adrien. I-I-I shouldn't have zoned off." She wore a sheepish smile now, eyes closed and a cute chime of giggles leaving her enticing throat. "I bet you're wishing that Madame. Bustier chose someone else as your partner instead of me for this project," The blond had to push aside his momentary feeling of euphoria from the sounds of her laughs and use his singular working brain cell. He squeezed her hand with what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "No way! I'm so happy that you're mine- I mean! Mine-my- my partner!" He leaned in even closer, his perfect teeth nibbling his bottom lip and his golden skin kissed with a lovely pink hue. "You have no idea how happy I was when we got paired together. I've always wanted to work with you and create something together..." Adrien confessed quietly, pleading his heart to calm down and praying to anything and everything that he wouldn't spook Marinette with his feelings. "Any time you zone off...I'm...more than happy to bring you back to the world, Marinette." He lowered his gaze, eyeing the way he rubbed circles on the back of Marinette's petite hand with his thumbs and then his greens met her blues once again. "Oh," Her response wasn't anything louder than a delighted gasp but it was more than enough to keep the boy absolutely thrilled. Before he could say anything else, Adrien noted that she was eyeing his mouth in a manner that was practically identical to his Lady's scrutinising yesterday night. Forbidden truths and theories and hopes sewed themselves back together in his brain for the millionth time and- "I'm glad," She snapped him out of his thoughts anew by mustering the courage to press her forehead against his gently, pretty blue eyes flickering from his peach pink lips to his curious greens and back. His heart was a hummingbird vibrating in his chest and hot flames coursed through his veins as the intensity within her eyes grew with an emotion that seemed to just suck him in and beckon him to give in to one of his many temptations. She was only a breath away... Maybe... Just maybe...if he just leaned a little closer... Much to his screaming silent dismay, the smart girl pulled away and took all the delicious warmth with her, an iconic and very familiar grin dancing on her face as she peered back at his lips one more time. Adrien was almost so sure that she knew for definite that he was currently a hot, flustered mess and she was eating it all up. If he had his kitten ears right now, they would have been plastered against his hair out of pure embarrassment and perhaps be just as red as his real ears. "Shall we get back to work?" His voice came out low and raw, clearly affected by the proximity and tension and the knowing twinkle in her eyes did not help matters at all. Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, Marinette's smile grew and the warmth in her face increased by ten folds as if she was seeing all of him without an obstacle in her way. "Whenever you're ready." Little did he know how much effort it took for her tongue to keep down the 'mon Chaton' from slipping out... ~(x)~ "M-M-Marinette!?" The way his voice left his throat as an embarrassing squeak had the feline hero's complexion redden to the point of no return, stray strands of his golden hair sticking up straight like an arrow and his heart beating a million miles per hour. Despite his inner (and outer) turmoil, Marinette acted as if he was just talking about the weather, smearing the residue of the sweet balm on her thumb after she swiped the digit against his lips without any warning. "Oh, did I startle you?" She smiled almost too innocently, her sky blues burning with something mischievous and hungry, her pretty face gracefully tilted to the side in question. "I'm sorry, I thought there was something on your lips. I just didn't expect it to be...fruit-flavoured lip balm," There was something very knowing and very cheeky in her voice and it was driving Chat Noir absolutely crazy. "Strawberry too...my favourite." His lips wobbled and his heart was a jackhammer and despite their huge height difference, Marinette's presence alone felt like it was looming over him like a mountain! "I-I-I-" He swallowed audibly, trying everything to regain back his composure and cleared his throat, coughing once, twice (maybe thrice) into his fist. "The cold air was making my lips a little chapped..." He lightly fibbed, averting eye contact but still able to see her laughing blues peering at his mouth through his peripheral vision and he couldn't help the petty scowl that plastered itself on his face, reminiscent of the odd grumpy cat or two. "So what?" "Chat Noir," The heroine in disguise roamed closer towards the blushing catboy, her hands now behind her back and her rosy lips grinning like his namesake. "Are you ly-iiiiiiing~?" They were now nose to nose and the boy found himself backed up against a brick wall, faux ears now lowered against his golden tresses as the feel of her deliciously sweet and warm breath against his mouth made his lips ache with the intense need to capture her lips. However, instead of blindly following his urges like his heart begged him to, Chat Noir let out an awkward mewl that sounded like a tiny kitten trapped inside a box, making the girl try her utmost best to hold in her endeared snickers. Oh, that little mouse! He absolutely refused to be teased like that! "You know what? Yes, you're right!" This time, he leaned forward with determination, forehead pressing against hers in a manner that matched the moment they shared in the school library when he was guised as his shy, civilian self. His heart fluttered victoriously from the sight of the sweet bloom of pink on her soft cheeks and despite his desperate need to cradle her soft face within his hands, his claws remained rooted within the bricks of the wall behind him. He childishly narrowed his eyes, not thinking through his words properly and then spoke. "Maybe I was just keeping myself prepared in advance in case my Lady needs to or wants to kiss me again. Hmmph!" Though his voice cracked midway through his (truthful) declaration, the way Marinette's eyes glimmered with pure wonder and raw desire had the cogs turning within his one brain-celled mind anew and he was now one hundred and ten percent sure that his cunning Princesse was also his incredible La- "Just your Lady?" The way Marinette batted her long lashes at him and pressed her fist against her lips was just so illegally cute, it consequently destroyed what ever working thought processes he had running through his shaken mind, causing him to finally slide down the wall and sink to his bum with a pitiful 'miau' escaping his lips. . He was so screwed and she KNEW it. But did she care? Non! As if it wasn't enough that he was now a useless pile of patheticness with a window's error screen blasting in his brain, Marinette bent down to his level and sat on her haunches all whilst watching him with those devilish blue eyes of hers. She trailed a dainty finger from his cheek, down his jaw until the tip of it was tilting his chin towards her smug face so that they were merely a kiss apart. "What if I want a kiss too, mon Chaton~?" . K. O. . "Chaton??? Chat Noir??? Oh no...how am I supposed to fight the akuma with you passed out like this- don't look at me like that Tikki! It's not my fault that he can only dish but can't take! Ugh...silly Chaton..." ~(x)~ "You know, after saving you from that akuma, I was expecting anything but that face from you, Adrien," Ladybug giggled as she swung them both away from Le Papillon's latest puppet villain from rooftop to rooftop. It took everything for the heroine to not burst out into mad cackles from the way her good friend pouted childishly in her arms with his cheeks puffed up like a hamster and his spring green eyes twinkling with slight irritation. She got a low warning hum from him as a response as he furrowed his brows even further and continued to glower like a kitten who was refused its very well-deserved treat. With a few more powerful leaps and impressive swings, Ladybug managed to get herself and Adrien to a secluded alleyway in a quiet area that was currently vacant of any civilians for the time being. Getting them both to their knees and crouching over the blond teen, Ladybug kept them hidden in the shadows so that the rampaging akuma couldn't get a glimpse of them as it ran by in pursuit of petty revenge (which in her opinion was quite justified since there was no need for Chloé Bourgeois to have poured rotten milk all over their head in the first place). . It was only after a few seconds of waiting silently did Ladybug finally notice the hot, hot gaze that rested on her face, emeralds flickering from her own blues to her cold, rosy lips and back. The heroine clad in red then registered the suggestive position they were in with her strong arms caging Adrien against the wall, her hips a hair away from straddling his to the ground and the gap between their mouths just barely there. She couldn't help but freeze at the moment, mesmerised by the intensity of his eyes and the way that every breath that left his parted lips was a frosty condensation that felt hotter than the blood that roared in her veins every time it hit her sensitive skin. It took her everything to not jump out of her suit the second his sharp nose gently grazed her softer one all whilst he watched her under his long, dark lashes. "A-Adrien...?" Although the whisper of his name was audible, all that Ladybug could hear was her heart ricocheting inside her chest as if it was on fire. Her guised partner stayed silent as one of his hands made its way towards her face so that his piano fingers could tenderly cup her jaw and rub his thumb against her cheekbone. This time, Ladybug couldn't stop the way she physically trembled from his loving touch which started off as icy cold and softly grew warmer and warmer. A muted gasp was next to escape her mouth when his other hand firmly rested on the small of her back (making it arch oh so deliciously) and before she knew it- He was leaning in closer... And closer... And closer... . . . "Why are you just sitting still like that? I thought you wanted a kiss, Marinette." The second that Ladybug comprehended his stupidly smug and very victorious tone, Adrien gingerly squished her face with the hand that was cradling her jaw so that her lips were automatically pursed and pressed a hot, searing kiss with his own lips. The taste of his sweet, sweet strawberry lip balm was more than enough to make her eyes flutter closed and grip the lapels of his winter jacket as she enthusiastically kissed back with as much passion and fervour as she could possibly muster. It was messy. It was clumsy. But she loved every fucking second of it. Her Chaton was absolutely merciless, nipping her bottom lip with the sharp of his teeth just so he can slip his tongue in as his fingers clawed on her back almost possessively. A small, tiny part of her mind had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, the kiss would have been a lot more gentle and perhaps shorter if it weren't for some of her shameless teasings lately. Especially when he was decked up as his alter-ego not too long ago. Not that she was complaining. The second Adrien tilted his face to a slight angle, Ladybug lost every single comprehensive thought within her brain and all that she could think about was him. His name, his face, his eyes, his lips, his everything. Him. Her Chaton, her Minou, her Chat Noir, her Adrien, her Prince, him. The softness and silkiness of his lips, the scorching feel of his fingers running through her hair as he tore off the ribbons, the delighted and pleased sighs of her name. Oh, how she loves, loves, loves him. . "And you thought that I can only dish it," Adrien chuckled against her beet-red throat, delivering the sweet butterfly kisses he's always wanted to shower the love of his life with and holding her close against his frame. When he pulled back to meet her gaze, the feline within him couldn't help but be unconditionally pleased with the flustered, thoroughly-kissed state his beloved partner was in. He didn't bother fighting off the delighted purr that rumbled through his chest like a happy kitten. 'I did that. I turned my smug, perfect Lady into a blushy mess. Hah! Take that, ma Buguinette!' "I-I-I...you!" Ladybug finally snapped out of her enchanted stupor, the cogs in her brain now having the energy to move and piece together what just happened in the last five minutes or so. "You said my name! How- when- I mean!?" Unfortunately, words decided to abandon her once again so all that Ladybug could do was flop her head against her snickering partner's chest with a defeated and very, very embarrassed groan. "Who knew that little ol' me can turn the amazing Ladybug as red as her suit~?" Adrien earned a well-deserved (and light) jab against his shoulder but it did nothing to affect the shit-eating grin that was virtually tattooed on his face. "Alright, alright. Unlike you, I can hold off the teasing for a little while~" When Adrien stood them back up and sweetly moved her hands from her face, all whilst watching her with his beautiful, affectionate gaze with a smile full of devotion, Ladybug felt her heart rev back up to high speeds once again. . Until his tender smile switched to a devilish, insufferable grin. "Told ya you'd fall for me one day~" "WHAT!? I! I! YOU-UUUUUUUUUUUUU! We have an akuma to fight! Hurry up and transform you, idiot!" "This idiot got you undone in one kiss alone~" "CHAT NOIR!!?!?" "Actually, right now I'm Adrien-" "I'LL HANG YOU UPSIDE-DOWN ON THE TOWER EITHER WAY!" "No you wouldn't~ because you love me~" "UGHHHHHHH!" . . . ~(x)~

Flowers and Tears

Summary: Leo makes a hurtful joke that went way too far, deeply hurting Zaria. Zaria, unsure of how to stand up for herself, bottles it up and makes it worse. Thank gods for her caregivers.

Info: Percy and Annabeth are Zaria’s caregivers when she’s regressed, and her romantic partners when she’s not. There’s only about two years between them.

Zaria gently smiled as she picked a mariposa lily. She turned around and placed it in her friend Flora's hair, causing the other girl to giggle.

Zaria and Flora were strolling around Camp Jupiter, gathering flowers to put in their little baskets. Zaria liked using the flowers to decorate the dormitory she shared with her partners, while Flora enjoyed crafting flower crowns from them.

“I need to find more Baby Blue Eyes and Red Trilliums,” Zaria said, “Percy and Annabeth really like those.”

“Ooh, Red Trilliums,” Flora beamed, “Those are pretty! I like the Clarkia amoena that grow around here.”

Zaria smiled and nodded in approval. "Those are beautiful! I wish tulips grew around here, though."

“Tulips are pretty! Especially the pink ones.” Flora replied.

Leo, Flora’s boyfriend, had been trailing the two earlier, but he suddenly caught up to them, and proceeded to lock hands with Floraline.

This made Zaria smile, watching the couple be affectionate. “You two are cute together.” Zaria complimented, smiling sweetly at them.

“I know right.” Leo jested, a playful smile on his face.

Flora rolled her eyes in a loving way at Leo’s reply, then turned to Zaria and smiled. “Thank you.”

Zaria nodded and hummed in acknowledgment, then turned to absorb their surroundings. They were strolling through the forested area of the camp, somewhat distant from the main section. Vines and bushes were abundant, creating a truly beautiful scenery.

A distant deer crossing their path made Zaria gasp and smile. Eager to share the sight, she pointed towards it, only to realize her friends were already conversing with her, a fact she hadn't noticed.

“-and Annabeth when you get the chance? You’ve still got a couple years, but it would still be good to think about what you wanna do.” Was all Zaria heard Flora say.

Zaria frowned, not understanding Flora's words and feeling guilty about it. "I... I didn't hear you. Could you repeat that? Sorry..." She asked sheepishly, feeling embarrassed, as it was the third time that day she had asked Flora to repeat herself.

Floraline didn't seem bothered at all. She simply smiled and repeated her question, "I know they'll be a couple years ahead of you, but do you plan to join Percy and Annabeth in college when you get the chance? You've still got a few years to decide, but it's worth considering."

Zaria smiled excitedly and nodded vigorously, "Mhm! I want to study animal biology."

Flora was about to reply, but was interrupted by Leo, who started snickering.

"A STEM degree, really? You can barely follow a normal conversation. Do you really think you're smart enough to handle biology?" Leo quipped, "Might want to choose something easier, or hold off on college."

Floraline elbowed Leo in the gut, a look of shock on her face. "Leo! What the hell?! I know you were joking, but that's not funny!" she scolded, glaring at him.

Zaria's face fell into a frown. She already harbored self-doubt about her intelligence. She knew Leo was just being himself, not intending harm. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to his statement. Perhaps he was right.

"Sorry..." Leo mumbled quietly, clutching his stomach. Floraline gave Zaria an apologetic smile.

Zaria offered a faint half-smile and assured Leo that everything was fine, and they continued their walk for a few more minutes. After some thought, Zaria found an excuse to depart. "I think I'm going to head home now. I'm hungry and it's getting late. Bye, guys," she said and left before they could respond. She knew she had to leave; she couldn't risk breaking down if she stayed any longer.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Later that afternoon, Zaria was sitting on the bed she shared with her partners, Percy and Annabeth. She couldn't stop thinking about Leo's words. Self-doubt had started to creep in. Was she smart enough for college? Could she handle it?

Zaria didn't realize when her tears started flowing, but she found herself curled up on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Her mind became fuzzy, a clear sign she was regressing. This often happened when she was extremely upset. She despised it. It only intensified her emotions, making her even more sensitive.

Just a few minutes later, Percy and Annabeth returned from their college classes for the day.

"Gods, I am so thankful it's Friday-" Percy began, but quickly stopped when he saw Zaria crying on the bed.

Annabeth's eyes widened as she quickly sat down next to Zaria, scooping her up in her arms. "Hey, hey, hey," she cooed, "What happened? What's wrong?"

Zaria sobbed and hiccupped, struggling to calm herself enough to speak. But when she tried to talk, she found herself unable to form words, which only added to her frustration. Her feelings escalated into anger, compelling her to want to hit or bite something.

Percy sat down next to them and placed a hand on Zaria’s back soothingly. “Don’t try to force yourself to talk, guppie. You can tell us when you’re ready.” He comforted, addressing Zaria by the nickname he used exclusively when she was little. She wasn’t sure if he could already tell she was regressed or if they were trying to get her to regress in hopes of soothing her. Either way, it made her feel a little better.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Zaria was okay enough to talk. Little tears still dripped down her cheeks, but she wasn’t hiccuping or gasping anymore.

“Um…m-me n Flora were picking flowers earlier…n Leo was there too…” Zaria began and when she glanced up at Percy she could tell he already knew where this was going. “I kept zoning out n asking Flora to repeat what she said n L-Leo,” she sniffled, more tears forming in her eyes as she was beginning to say it out loud.

“What did he say, guppie?” Percy asked, his voice already tense. Percy had his own…thoughts about Leo. Sure, he was a funny, chill dude…when you weren’t around him for too long, and as long as he didn’t feel threatened by you.

“H-He said I wasn’t smart ‘nuff for college n that I shouldn’t go or I should pick something easier…” She replied, her bottom lip wobbling as she tried not to break down again.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m sure he was just joking, you know how he is, but that absolutely does not make it okay. Did you say anything?” Annabeth asked her, a frown on her face.

Zaria shook her head. “No…didn’ want him to call me sensitive or anything…but Flora got mad at him for it.”

Annabeth opened her mouth to talk, but Percy spoke first. “I’m gonna kill him.” He said, “That ass—“ He cut himself off when he realized he was about to cuss in front of a very little Zaria. “—meanie had no right to say anything rude to you. Especially not when it comes to intelligence.” He fumed.

This seemed to make Zaria giggle. She had been clinging onto Annabeth, but she turned around to give Percy a hug too. “Don’ do that,” she replied, “‘cause then Flora will be sad. N I don’ want her to be sad.”

Percy wrapped his arms around her and gave her a little kiss on the forehead before letting out a deep breath. Annabeth smiled as she saw the two interact, her heart swelling with love for the both of them.

“Okay, fine. I won’t hurt him. But me and Annabeth are gonna…talk to him later. He’s not gonna get away with just insulting you like that, joke or not.” Percy vowed.

Annabeth nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, that was not okay at all. You’re more than smart enough to go to college. I bet you’ll even be at the top of your class.” Annabeth praised, gently petting Zaria’s hair. “However,” she began, “you need to work on standing up for yourself, little miss.”

“Yeah, you do. You can’t just let people walk all over you like that,” Percy agreed, “Next time anybody at all says anything like that, you have our full permission to cuss them out.”

“No, do not just cuss people out,” Annabeth corrected, shooting Percy a glare. “But do tell them off. Just try to be less aggressive about it than Percy suggested.”

Their banter made Zaria giggle. She rubbed her eyes, letting out a little yawn. She always got very sleepy after crying. She wanted her paci, but she was too tired to talk. She made grabby hands at the small box that was peaking out of the closet, which held all her age regression stuff.

Annabeth instantly knew what she wanted and she got up and grabbed the box. She pulled out her pacifier, a cute little green thing that was decorated with little beads and jewels and had a leaf charm on it. Zaria opened her mouth, and Annabeth popped it in for her.

“C’mon, guppie. Let’s get you a bath and in some pajamas before bedtime.” He said, picking the girl up with ease. Zaria let out a little whine, but didn’t really protest. She wrapped her arms around Percy as he carried her and buried her face in his neck. She nearly passed out on their way to the bathtub.

Annabeth smiled and followed the two closely, simply admiring the two people she loved most. In that moment, she felt lucky. Luckier than anyone else in the entire world.

@disneyanddisneyships HAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA

Trauma recap ig?

Tw: SA

So- i was born at a very young age

Jkjk ok so..

Once upon a time~

....

I was born with a congenital heart and ig one day my mom thought i was gonna die bc they said i did not cry when I came out of the womb.

Ha. Look who's surviving now.

Anywhoooo my parents separated (i live in the philippines divorce is not an option so they separated instead but still married on paper. Just an important note for an extremely important part.) Before I could comprehend what even a sun is.

So the couple therapist era began.

Peer pressure to get them back together was an understatement. I was FIVE when they told me I was the "key" for them to reconcile. So I tried so hard to make my mother tell me why exactly they separated. Dad said she fell out of love so I tried so hard to make mom love him again. I guess we don't always get what we want.

I was so confused because things wouldn't go my way. I thought happy endings existed. Guess not.

So I start to grow up and go to grade school.

That was the trigger.

I was apparently the ugliest creature they've ever seen. Like, kids my age would run away from me when they see me wanting to play with them on the street. They would call me "ugly duckling" or something whenever I have to go up front.

And then, the real trigger was this.

Apparently my father also works on the school I was in, and these girls pulled up to me thinking I was rich, then started STEALING MY WALLET. How do six year olds know how to blackmail now?

When I don't give them what they want, they "punish" me by making me carry books on both of my hands and get me on my knees. Mind you, I cannot carry heavy things back then because *cough* inborn heart condition *cough*

S O

I cried the first time after it was done to me.

That's what started my people-pleasing personality.

So long story short, I switch schools because it was fucked up.

AND THEEEEEEN 😍😍

The first few years were fine, the only issue that I was smart in the english subject.. and people only used me and pushed me around. They ignore me up until they need answers for english class. Stupid little me gave them what they wanted.

Haha.

Then another year. THE FUCKING BOMB.

I sit next to this girl in class.

We became bestfriends.

And then valentines day happened.

My very first kiss.

Was with her.

On valentines day because she thought it was funny.

But god-fucking-dammit.

It made me realize something about myself.

But I was still attracted to guys, so I thought I was straight. (Idk what bisexual was)

Then when I finally told them..

Remember the list of guys they made to "make me normal"?

..yeah.

They made a list of guys my age and wondered which one would make me stop liking girls.

My brain erased that memory for a while.. probably for a good reason.

OH! YOU THOUGHT IT WAS OVER??

BOOM.

Found out dad had a girlfriend. Didn't accept it at first, but she grew on me.

I WISHED SHE DIDNT!!

Because a month after my father died she called my mom a whore for having male friends. While SHE is the one moving on after five months to another guy with a lotta cash and stuff.

What's more effed up is that dad's siblings sided with her.

Also mind you, my biological parents are stil married on paper. So according to the law, she gets portion of dad's properties. The rest of em is mine and my brother's.

But NOOOOOO SHE STILL CALLED MY MOM A WHORE FOR STATING FACTS AND WANTED 500K FROM MY NOW DECEASED DAD

So long story short my broken family got a lot more broken. Yay!

Oh- this isn't over yet.

It keeps

Getting

Worse

As I grew up.. men started eyeing me which was never a problem to comprehend by younger me.

I turn eleven.

I was actually ELEVEN when my second father-figure by the name of fucking Ian Cruz, SA'D me. I lied about the thirteen.

To make it more mild I told you i was thirteen when it happened.

But no.

Eleven.

Two days after my 11th birthday.. I saw him sa'ing his wife while she was asleep and he started acting weird ever since.. to me.

I slept so late because I thought he might come and get me. Because he almost did. He almost pulled down my pants if I hadn't stopped pretending I was asleep. It could've almost been my first.

Then he starts watching explicit videos whenever he comes into my room. And he forces me to watch them.

Then he starts making eyes at me.. saying I've got a nice tiny little waist and everything..

Whenever I call him out on his shit he gaslights me. Every. Damn. Time.

He apologized to me by hugging me when I confronted him.. and while he was hugging me he.. he kissed my back? Without my consent?

I think.

I hyperventilated when he left after I pushed him off.

I started hinting at his wife about how he has the keys and she had NO idea.

So he finds the keys.

So me locking the doors..

It was all for nothing.

He did some more fucked up things but.. I'll leave it here.

So I told my mom..

And I thought she was gonna comfort me.

But she made it about herself.

She made it about how she was so hurt thet I lied to her. To everyone.

The worst part is that after I spoke up nothing happened.

I was still silent.

No one knew.

Just like how no one also knew back then.

It just repeated itself.

One of these days I just wanna scream..

But no.

Not anymore.

The age of thirteen i mentioned? That was the time I told her.

It's been years but holy shit

I still can't erase it.

He took my fucking girlhood. My innocence.

And the worst part is that he had no remorse and is still living his best life..

But not anymore. I'm not going through bullshit anymore.

Now I just.. I just figured out I had mother issues..

It kept

Getting

Worse

With the peer pressure and everything happening.. It's so hard. I wonder if I'm ever gonna make it past this year.

I wonder how long I can take before I finally shut down.

But.. the bright side of it all? I found people.

Can I also tell you the good side of my life? Not just the recap of bad things?

Well.. there was this jelsa meme account on instagram I found really funny.. so I liked their posts.

Then this said account messaged me.. saying she appreciates it.

Then we just.. talked.

The trigger was that someone had been flirting with her? And I stepped in and just..

It just happened. Few days she started calling me her girl..

And boy, oh boy.. was this a dream?

I was a mad woman. I couldn't sleep at night. I just needed to talk to her.. and everyday it kept getting better.

Even now.

After two years of it.

AND IM CONVINCING HER TO GET A TUMBLR!

God, I fucking love this girl.

Okay.. I'm name-dropping.

Her name is Kiara. Her ig acc is official__jelsa (up until now)

I hope she says yes hehe

Speaking of tumblr tho.

Weeeeell a certain SOMEONEEEE started liking and reblogging my jelsa incorrect quotes!

Hm I wonder who could that beeeeee

Dyk, Liana?

Someone by the tumblr user named disneyanddisneyships...

Hmmmmmmm

I think you know the rest...

Liana.

You know what happened.

I was there when you gave elsa a miscarriage.

I remember it all too well.

This is a small fic about the ending of the 3DS era with N included, and since I'm sad you all have to be sad too. TW: Major/Referenced Character Death

He sits, perched up in his icon. It's a Pokemon Black icon, the first one, the game the owner had longer forgotten within the cartridge slot. The screen was flipped on and up, but the screen was dull and darkened. But just over the screen horizon, he could see them.

The owner of the 3DS he lives within, and the kid he grew up along side. Oh did he miss those fun days when you were merely just a small child, the way your Pokemon would have god awful movesets, the way you struggled so hard against the elite four, and then him. What he would give to go back and experience it all over again, but he's already long forgotten.

Dust has already pulled up on his hair, stiff and forgotten. His normally white shirt now a full grey colour due to how much dust he has collected over these years, there's even dust piling up onto his lashes. It's times like these that he wonders that if he'll even be remembered for the years to come, not that he'll be around to know.

He looks up, humming to the theme of your custom 3DS wallpaper. He remembers how happy you were when you got it, the way your eyes lit up and your childish smile rose, it was such a long time ago....

If he stretches just that tiny bit further, he can see what you are doing, but just faintly. You're playing on the new console, the switch if he remembers correctly? Maybe you're playing the new Pokemon games like sword and shield, or the new one that just came out, or maybe you're playing a different game as a whole! He wouldn't know, he can't look that far.

He looks to his side, the other discarded and forgotten games. The demos of the games you used to play all sitting there, untouched, covered with a thick layer of dust.... Forgotten just as he was.

It's times like these he wishes he wasn't just a video game character made for your enjoy, to challenge your abilities, but a human. A human with a fully fleshed life, one not predicted out for him, choices he could make on his own, and maybe if he reached out just that little bit further maybe he could-

He retracted his hand, bringing up to his face. He didn't notice the waterfall of tears pouring out of his face unnaturally, he was never a pretty crier, but he expression of solitude and monochrome never faded. He doesn't have the energy to be expressionate anymore, he hasn't in years.

His throat was sore and coarse, just sandpaper rubbing against each other, he stopped speaking to himself years ago because of it. Now only the littlest of words would cause him great pain.

He looks behind himself, the old icons you so very much disregarded, well all but the Eshop. But as he can see with his very own eyes, it was dying.

He knew that once that had died, he'll follow suit. He knows he should be upset, he should be screaming and banging on that screen to let him out, to let him be a real person again. But he already did that the first time around, it didn't change his outcome.

He counts.

3

2

.....1

It's gone, the shop he watched you search and search for fun free games is now gone, forever. He looks back to the screen, hoping just this one last time that you'd even slightly turn your way to the screen and be sad that it's now permanently gone.

But you showed nothing.

For the first time, in such a long while, he showed pure emotion on his face. His face contorted, eyebrows fluxed and mouth slightly agape, he was in complete and utter sorrow.

"Please! I don't want to do this anymore please!"

His throat hurt, it scratched like all hell, it felt like it was bleeding, but he didn't care.

The sound of beeping tore a gasp from his ruined throat, he looks over in shock, the battery is finally dying after all this time. No, no, no, not now! He couldn't let this happen! He can't just die like this!

"PLEASE! IM SORRY! I'LL DO ANYTHING! I DON'T WANT TO GO!"

The beeping got loud, his breathes were laboured as he struggled to breathe.

"𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀!-"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The screen snaps to black, it's dawn of a new era for consoles.