#in honor of the prequel dropping
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caesar flickerman is a nepotism baby
#in honor of the prequel dropping#happy hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers#the hunger games#the true horror of the trilogy is the fact that ALL THE RICH VILLAINS are nepo babies#nepotism#caesar flickerman
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i want your midnights
synopsis: on the coldest new year's eve in a decade, bob floyd shows up at your door. prequel to delicate.
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bob is really soft and cozy and lovestruck, swearing (barely), so much yearning and pining, kissing kissing kissing (wc: 2.2K)
note: surprise! i wasn't planning to write something for new year's, but i missed lovestruck bob. happy new year, loves! 🍾
summoning a few people who might be interested: @sometimesanalice @roosterbruiser @theharddeck @callsignspark @lewmagoo @gretagerwigsmuse @roosterforme @rhettabbotts
He shouldn't be here right now. For several reasons.
Technically, Bob should be on a plane right now – or on one of several planes because San Diego International doesn't offer any direct flights to the part of Montana Bob is from
He usually flies from San Diego to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Bozeman and drives from there.
Except when half of California freezes over in the coldest storm in a decade on the very day Bob is supposed to head home for New Year's and grounds all of LAX.
This normally wouldn't be a big deal. He doesn't even care all that much about New Year's – New Year's is celebrated very casually in his family. He's usually in bed well before midnight. – but Bob already missed Christmas.
He and Phoenix were selected for a special detachment at the end of December, which – while an honor and a privilege, etcetera – meant Bob spent Christmas on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific. He didn't get back until December 28.
Phoenix immediately drove up to San Francisco to be with her nieces and nephews. He'd been waiting for New Year's.
Now, after countless delays and an eventual cancellation – which should've happened hours ago when Bob maybe could've found another way home, rented a car and driven the seventeen hours – Bob is stuck in San Diego.
Disappointed isn't a good enough word to express what Bob is feeling right now.
He could've driven back to his apartment – his sad apartment, already devoid of colorful lights and silver and gold decorations because Bob didn't expect to come back until January. He could've called Fanboy or gone to the New Year's Eve party at the Hard Deck, but Bob isn't in the mood to be around people right now.
He only wants to see one person.
And now Bob is here – standing outside of your apartment with a backpack and a carry-on, like Bob is about to clear out a drawer and move right in.
He probably looks like a weirdo. He definitely feels like a weirdo.
Damn. This was a mistake.
It's a brisk 40 degrees and dropping outside, and Coronado smells like ocean air and fireplace smoke. Pine needles, shed from the withering evergreens hauled onto the streets and abandoned the day after Christmas. Seawater and camphor and burning wood.
He shivers in the cold, broad shoulders rounding under the worn wool of his sweater. He should've worn something warmer – something nicer – but all of Bob's warmer coats are either deep in his suitcase or at his parents' house. He never expected to need them in San Diego.
A shaky puff of breath blows from his quivering lips.
He breathes in a deep and steadying breath. A bracing breath. And knocks on the door.
Minutes pass. Or maybe, just seconds.
Finally, Bob hears a voice from inside. Blessedly.
"Just a minute!"
Your calm voice is like a soothing balm, even muffled, even barely audible, and Bob feels like a loosed bowstring – held taut for hours on end and at the sound of your voice, finally let free. He can drop his shoulders and loosen his clenched jaw for the first time in the past day – in the past week.
Tension melts off of him like the last snow of late spring from the Montana pines. He can finally relax. He can breathe again.
A crack of light spills out of the creaking door, and Bob pulls his gaze from his scuffed brown Blundstones.
You are silhouetted in the doorway like a priceless Renaissance sculpture, glowing, curves highlighted and illuminated in the most beautiful dress Bob has ever seen.
Black satin, catching in the dim light and glimmering, like a blanket of stars on a cloudless December night.
He used to lay under stars like those in Montana and memorize the constellations. He feels the same sense of wonder, of awe looking at you.
He's always found you beautiful – even dressed in your coveralls with grease smudged on your cheeks, sometimes especially then – but now, fuck.
He's never seen your hair like that before, loose around your shoulders, curled like the ends of a ribbon on a beautifully wrapped present on Christmas morning. He shoves his hands in his pockets, slightly chapped and reddened from the dry cold, and pinches the denim between his palms, squashing the urge to reach out and wrap one of the delicate strands of hair around his finger.
A deep shade of red paints your lips, parting in a surprised smile. "Bob Floyd, is that you?" You shiver and hug your arms, and Bob, respectfully, keeps his eyes on your face. "Jesus Christ, when did it get so cold out here? Aren't you cold?"
"I, uh... run warm, I guess," Bob says. He lifts his baseball cap and runs his fingers through the mess of strands underneath, in desperate need of a trim. Sets it back on his head and squares his shoulders. "Are you headed out?"
You look down and absentmindedly shuffle your feet to look down at your heels – which reveals a slit in the fabric, exposing a line of bare skin all the way up to your thigh. God help him.
"Kind of. I'm supposed to meet up with some of the other mechanics at the Hard Deck. There’s some New Year’s thing there, I guess.” You fold your arms across your chest and look at him, still smiling curiously. “But what about you? What brings you here on New Year's Eve?"
He showed up out of the blue. Anyone else might be annoyed, but all Bob hears in your voice is gentle curiosity. Like Bob is the most pleasant of surprises.
"I spent 12 hours in the airport, only for my flight to get canceled, and I couldn't go back to my apartment after that and spend New Year's alone, but I couldn't go to the Hard Deck either. I'm sorry," Bob adds. "I shouldn't have shown up here like this. I should've called you. You have plans."
You regard him, expression calm. "Don't be sorry. I'm happy to see you."
You're happy to see him. You're happy to see him.
Is it cold enough for the pink in his cheeks to be mistaken for a different kind of flush? He hopes so.
"Do you wanna come in?"
His eyes grow wide. "Oh... well, what about your party?"
You drop your shoulder in a shrug. "New Year's is kind of lame anyway. I was really going as an excuse to get dressed up because I never go anywhere fancy enough to wear this dress. It's been in the back of my closet for months."
His eyes drop to the dress again, and absently, Bob wonders what the material would feel like between his fingers, what it'd feel like to run his hand over the elegant slope of your hip. He swallows.
"It's quite a dress," Bob croaks. His mouth is so damn dry. "You, uh... You look really beautiful. It's really... yeah."
You watch him, expression softening like warmed butter. "Thank you, Bob."
You look at him – look past the backpack and the scuffed carry-on and the slightly baggy sweater that once belonged to his older brother – and Bob feels seen, really seen. He feels safe.
You bump the door open wider with your hip and reach for his luggage, wiggling your fingers playfully until Bob passes the suitcase over. He's rewarded with a beaming smile, radiant and warm.
"Come on. You like Chinese?"
You change after Bob comes in, hanging up your dress and putting on an oversized gray sweater, pushed up at the sleeves, and a pair of fleece pajama pants that aren't quite the right length for your legs, covered in white dots and blue and white snowflakes.
You order the food and put on your favorite New Year's Eve movie while Bob calls his parents and gets comfortable, changing into sweatpants. His mom is pleased that Bob isn't spending New Year's alone, but Bob chooses his words carefully.
He is spending New Year's with a friend, not with a girl.
She'd ask questions Bob couldn't really answer in your hall bathroom.
When Bob comes back in, When Harry Met Sally is on.
You explain: "It's my favorite New Year's Eve movie. I watch it almost every year. If I start watching it 28 seconds after 10:30 PM – exactly, like down to the second – I can count down to midnight while Harry is confessing his love to Sally in the New Year’s scene."
You curl up on the couch, nursing a glass of champagne, while Bob sips from a chilled can of Ginger Ale while Harry and Sally banter and dance around each other and fall in love.
Admittedly, Bob is only half watching.
He likes this movie, but Bob is much more interested in you.
He is rarely alone with you.
He usually comes to see you on the Naval base – sometimes even making up questions as an excuse to come and talk to you, bringing coffee as a thank you for your answers – or seeks you out at the Hard Deck. He drove you home once when Bob was working late and spotted you in one of the hangars, but otherwise, Bob has never been here before.
About 30 minutes into the movie, Bob gets overheated and sheds his sweater, leaving him in a white short-sleeve and sweatpants underneath the oversized blanket from your bedroom. It's made of some kind of sherpa and smells like you.
Everything in here smells like you.
His legs are sprawled out in front of him, resting on the coffee table between a half-eaten plate of spring rolls and what’s left of his chicken chow mein. He ate his body weight in noodles and miso soup, and Bob feels warm and relaxed – if bordering on uncomfortably full.
He can barely focus with the smell of your perfume in his nostrils; excruciatingly aware of you underneath the blanket next to him, curled up with your legs folded underneath yourself, head lolling to the side, dangerously close to resting on his shoulder; smelling like cherries and champagne and vanilla and you.
A countdown begins in the background of the scene.
“Five…”
You sit up underneath the blanket, which brings you closer to him, inadvertently.
“Four…”
Your arm brushes against Bob’s.
“Three…”
You watch the screen, excited, and count along.
“Two…”
Your lips part in a wide and excited smile.
“One…”
Cheers erupt on the screen, but Bob isn’t even pretending to watch the movie anymore. He’s watching you.
You grin at him, eyes bright, looking so beautiful that Bob can’t hold the words in.
“Can I kiss you?”
Surprise flashes across your face, soon replaced with a small smile. Bob can see a lipstick stain at the corner of your mouth from where earlier, you'd messily wiped the red from your lips with a cocktail napkin. He wants to reach out and smooth it away with the pad of his thumb. He wants to kiss the spot where the smudge used to be.
Instead, Bob holds his breath. Waits.
He shouldn't have said anything. You've been such a good friend to him. You changed your plans, invited him in.
What if Bob's ruined everything now?
You've never been so close. You ask, "Like a New Year's kiss? Or like a real kiss?"
What if Bob hasn't ruined anything at all?
“Both,” Bob says softly, like a confession.
What if?
You're glowing in the sparkle of multi-colored lights, still strung along the walls, still decorating the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, blues and reds and greens, eyes glimmering, liquid warm. "Yeah. That'd be okay."
"Okay," Bob echoes, leaning in.
He presses his lips against yours in a gentle but firm kiss, cradling your jaw with a careful hand, stroking your cheek.
Bob doesn't linger. Doesn't press his luck.
He gives you a good and solid kiss and pulls back, eyes slowly opening.
"How was that?"
You lick your lips, and Bob follows the movement with his gaze, entranced.
"Kiss me again."
It's after midnight now, and uncertain, Bob asks, "Like a New Year's kiss?"
You shake your head, slow and clear, and lean in, and Bob meets you in the middle.
He kisses you in earnest now, kissing the smudge of red on the corner of your mouth, licking a drop of champagne from your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, running his hands over your skin.
You do the same, running your hands over his shoulders, over his neck, and knocking his baseball hat from his head, run your fingers through his hair. You pull on the ends of the strands, pull him closer, and god, it's all Bob can do not to moan into your mouth.
You're all warm skin and soft curves and sweet perfume, and Bob is drowning drowning drowning.
You knock the wind out of him, and eventually, Bob is forced to pull back and catch his breath. His chest is heaving. His cheeks are pink and warm.
You blink up at him, eyes wide and glassy, as if pulled from a dream, and give him a dazed smile. You murmur, low and breathless, "Happy New Year, Bob."
I think I'm in love with you.
"Happy New Year," Bob whispers instead.
end note: likes are always appreciated, but comments and reblogs make my whole day. i love hearing from y'all!
#bob floyd fic#robert floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd x you#bob floyd angst#bob floyd fluff#laracrofted writes#fic: delicate#fic: bob floyd
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Desire
One-Shots Masterlist
Complete Masterlist
Summary: This is the prequel to Pheromones. You and Loki were sent to gather intel on a new drug that's being manufactured in Madripoor.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 4K
Warnings: One-bed trope. Fake Marriage trope. This has hard fluff. There are no actual acts but there are steamy moments.
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
It really shouldn’t have surprised you. A classic setting in the modern streets of Madripoor. A top-secret mission that only you have the skill set to accomplish. Getting to spend an obscene amount of forced private time with your long-time infatuation. It all seemed like a trademark recipe for a rom-com movie. So, of course, it shouldn’t have shocked you that there was only one bed.
Both you and Loki entered the bedroom suite to stare at the offending furniture only to drop your duffel bags down simultaneously.
“Well, darling, shall we?” he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Shall we what?” You asked slightly hopeful. Slightly cautious.
“Set up, of course.” He said pragmatically. “What exactly are we here to witness?” Loki said moving towards the windows. He moved with the grace of a predator. He looked like one too, in his expensive dark suit, the top button loose on his white linen shirt.
He held the curtains back to watch the tall office building across the street. The nightclub on the top floor bursts with prismatic lights and shadows dancing to unheard music. You followed and stood behind him, watching the windows across the way.
It was a supposed front for the distribution and manufacturing of the latest drug to hit the States. You and Loki were posing as honeymooners. Rich, honeymooners looking for a good time that would remain discreet and classified to mummy and daddy’s open wallet.
“We should take turns if they want us to monitor them 24/7.” You posed. You started to take your strappy sandals off as well as the jewelry you had on. Loki could hear you start to undress and it took all his strength and poise as an honorable gentleman to not turn and watch you. But he was the god of mischief after all.
“I’ll take the first shift. Go ahead and sleep. It’s been a long day for you.” he said, still looking out the window, watching your reflection through the glass.
“Thank you.” You said quietly. “I’ll be…” you started.
“Don’t worry darling. I know where you are if I need you.” He smiled. He left you with a nod and a smirk as he closed the door to the lone bedroom not once having turned your way.
Feeling rejected that your brazenness wasn’t received, you spent an extra amount of time in the shower, only leaving after you imagined him deciding to join you. Hoisting you up against the smooth tile, his godly cock burying deep inside you as his grunts echoed in the open shower.
After finishing your nightly ritual, you lay there on the soft sheets, listening to what Loki might be doing outside in the living room. You fell asleep to his quiet shuffle across the floors. You felt safe knowing that he was out there watching guard as you drifted off. You weren’t sure, but you thought you could hear his deep voice humming a soothing lullaby.
You woke up to the sun glaring through your windows. You stretched and moaned feeling the spacious mattress you were sleeping on. I should probably remake the bed. Considering it’s the only bed in the entire suite and you and Loki would have to share it. You wouldn’t want him thinking you’re a slob.
Wandering into the living room, you were pleasantly surprised at the surveillance equipment Loki managed to set up on his own. Multiple monitors and a couple of keyboards were arranged at the lone table in the entire suite.
“Looks like you were busy.” You said clearing your throat.
“Good morning. Yes, I got bored and decided to tinker around a bit.”
“You didn’t need any help? You could’ve woken me up. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“No. You looked so peaceful. I couldn’t disturb you.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you said making you wonder when Loki came into the room last night.
You sauntered your way to the small galley kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee. You hummed, taking the first sips as you sat next to him in front of the surveillance office he set up. He crossed his arms and sighed. Boredom dripped off his every pore. “Remind me again why I decided to join your merry bunch of misfits?”
“Because you look good kicking ass!” You blushed, offering the compliment as a joke. Loki turned to you with a smirk.
“I do make it look bewitching, don’t I?” he teased.
“Why don’t you go to bed? You’ve had a long night. I’ll take over.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go. Sleep.” You commanded. Loki rubbed his face and sighed as he got up weary from staying up all night. You watched him as he ran his fingers through his hair and worked the last of the buttons off on his shirt.
“You will wake me if…”
“Don’t worry, darling. I know where you are if I need you,” you said trying to mimic his accent, using his own words against him. Loki exhaled a puff of air as he smiled back at you.
After luxuriating in the hot shower, he readied himself for bed. He only realized when he stepped out that you had made the bed earlier. You fixed it to look like you hadn’t slept in it at all. Would it be peculiar if I slept in the same bed? It’s not as if she’ll be using it while I’m in here.
The thought of sharing a bed with you came unbidden into his mind. He looked at the mutual bed as he towel-dried his body off. Thoughts of taking you under him and whispering rude things in your ear made his abdominal muscles clench and blood rushed down to his straining cock.
Loki shook his head furiously as if he could shake the thoughts out of his head. He can’t think about you like that. Especially not right now. You were both on this mission and any distraction could mean the difference between a small cut or serious bodily harm.
Loki laid down on his stomach with a loud sigh. He wondered when he would ever have the courage to tell you of his feelings. He only volunteered on this mission because you would be away for almost a month and he couldn’t stand not seeing you for that extended amount of time.
Loki closed his eyes and relaxed into the soft mattress. She can kick me off if she has a problem with me sleeping here. A grin played on his lips, hoping very much that you would come into the bedroom.
Loki fell asleep to the smell of your floral shampoo on the pillow and the quiet movement of your feet outside the doors. Knowing that you were out there, essentially waiting for him, made him content and he fell into a deep slumber.
Loki woke to the sunset blaring down on his face, turning the bedroom into a bright orange hue. He opened the doors to the aroma of food wafting over to him. Having just woken up, he sauntered out into the living room with only his silk pajama bottoms. His hair was unruly and curled around his shoulders.
“Hi, sleepy head. You woke up just in time. I ordered takeout.” You said pointing to a paper bag on the dining table next to the kitchen. When you turned to address him, you nearly choked on your drink, leering at him as he came out of the lone bedroom.
He stifled his yawn, stretching his hands toward the ceiling. You took this time to follow the soft dark curls of his hair that trailed from his abs down to where his pajamas had ridden low past his sharp hip bones.
“Darling, are you all right? You look a little flush.” He asked as he made his way over to you. He tilted your chin up gently to look up into his eyes trying to make certain you didn’t become ill during the day.
“Yes. Uh-hum.” You nodded your head.
“Your blush suits you,” he whispered, causing your skin to burn at his touch and your face reddened even more. His scent overflooded your senses. If he didn’t move from you soon, you would take his fingers, which were caressing your face, into your mouth and show him exactly what you could do.
Just as you opened your mouth he looked over to the table and moved to the bag filled with food.
“Wonderful. I’m famished!” he said opening the bag and taking out the contents. “Anything to note on the building?” plating some noodles and chicken.
“Some sketchy trucks came by earlier.” You remarked, clearing your throat. “In half-hour increments for four hours. Not labeled. Non-descript. If we want a closer look, we might have to attend that nightclub up top,” you reported. Loki nodded as he handed you a plate of food.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“My pleasure,” he answered. It was then that you got a good look at him. His eyes were two different shades of blue and green, like the ocean. His sharp nose and pointed chin framed his face so strongly that it made him look regal.
He twirled the noodles on his fork as he rested his feet on top of the coffee table, leaning back. He caught you staring at him midway between putting the fork in his mouth and was surprised. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’ve never seen you so…relaxed before.” You smiled. “I kinda like it.” You turned away, looking out the window, hoping to hide your blush.
And so, it went on for three weeks. In the mornings, you would wake up to fresh coffee and sometimes a pastry. You were always surprised to note that your cup was ready for you. Made just the way you preferred, with two sugars and cream. You and Loki would relay all the happenings and everything he observed during the night. Then you would switch shifts.
Loki would go to sleep each morning, grateful for the fact that you made the bed, deeply inhaling your scent on the pillows as if you were sleeping right next to him. Then he would wake up in the afternoon to the smell of dinner. Sometimes takeout, sometimes cooked by your own hands. He appreciated those the most.
Until one afternoon, just one hour shy of Loki’s alarm going off, you woke him up.
“Loki. Loki wake up!” You shook his shoulder. Still half asleep, he grabbed your arm, turned you over his body, and pinned you down on top of the bed. His hands cuffing your wrists on top of your head.
Loki growled. His face was a mix of irritation and fatigue as his half-lidded eyes narrowed on you lying underneath him.
Your eyes were wide and dilated, trying to take in his proximity. The first purple hues of your blush started to appear, and Loki took a deep breath inhaling your warm floral scent.
“What are you doing here, pet?” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking. His hips pinned you down as his fingers tightened around your wrists.
“The v-vans stopped coming,” you stuttered as Loki continued to trail his nose down your neck, making you breathless and moan. “Expensive sports cars and dignitary vehicles were com-coming instead.” Your moans made him grind further into you. You could feel his hard shaft pressing against your already wet cunt, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your hips.
Your mind was gone. You couldn’t think straight as Loki grazed your jawline with his teeth. “There’s going to be a sale going on tonight and we need to be there.” You groaned out.
Loki’s eyes snapped to yours. His clear eyes furrowed with confusion as he took in your dazed ones under him. A sense of wakefulness finally caught up to him as he realized what he had just done.
“Why wake me now? Couldn’t this wait?” he whispered, more to himself than to you. Lifting himself off of you, he turned, lying next to you in bed.
“No. Steve just called. Said he wants us to pull out tomorrow morning. If we don’t get anything tonight, we would be going home with nothing to show for it,” you tried to sound professional. You tried to slow your breathing and contain your heartbeat within your chest.
“So, what do you propose we do?” he said as he let your aroma wash over him. He turned his head in your direction, and you turned in his. Your hair was caught in between you and the pillow, covering half your face with sultry allure.
“Let’s go to the club. We’re supposed to be a honeymoon-ing couple. We haven’t left the hotel room since we got here. People will think it’s suspicious.”
“I don’t think it’s suspicious for newlyweds to never leave their room.” He chuckled. You playfully hit his arm as a joke, and he caught your hands. He brought it up to cover his cheek as he turned his whole body to face you. “Is this really that important to you?” His thumb grazed the back of your hand, holding your touch in place.
You felt his smooth skin under your fingertips as they took on a life of their own and started twirling the locks of his hair. “I don’t want our hard work wasted for nothing, Loki. If we leave now we’ll have nothing to show for it.”
His face inched closer to yours on the bed. You looked so ethereal. Your warmth pulled him closer, enticing him to keep you there on the bed. “All right,” Loki whispered. “We’ll go. We’ll look around, see what we can find,” he whispered. The happiest grin showed on your face and warmed his heart. “But the moment you see something off, we leave. Do you understand? This was only supposed to be a recon mission.” He commanded and you nodded enthusiastically.
Shortly after, the both of you were getting dressed to attend the nightclub across the way. Loki had worn a dark navy suit with a light blue dress shirt. He had changed his appearance slightly, opting for short dirty-blonde hair and a slight stubble to adorn his face.
Once again, Loki was finding it hard to keep his eyes off you as you slid your dress onto your curvaceous frame. A low-cut, backless dress held together by a single knot on the back of your neck. He was watching you struggle through the reflection of the window when he finally decided to turn and help you.
“You know…” he started, as his fingers adjoined the zipper on the side of your dress, “…we would have to act like we are actually married. As if we were madly in love with each other,” he stated.
You hummed your agreement. You knew that it wouldn’t be too hard to act like you were infatuated with Loki. You just hoped that you could recover from the fact that he wasn’t interested in you after this mission. You turned around to look into his eyes, “That wouldn’t be too hard,” you smiled.
He let out a small chuckle as he looked down and noticed your wrists. Bruises had formed where his fingers pinned you down earlier in the bed. He held them up as he conjured thin gold bangles to hide them.
“If we were a real couple, do you think we should be hiding them?” you asked absentmindedly. Loki looked up at you through his lashes. His smile grew wide as he learned something about your predilections.
“In that case, darling, let’s make it more believable. Shall we?” He twirled you around and pulled your body flushed with his. “For instance, if you were mine, I wouldn’t hesitate to mark you,” he growled in your ear. You felt his solid chest on your bare back. His hands trailed up and stopped at the top of your arms. You felt a cool tingling sensation on your shoulders when he touched you.
“I would mark you here, on your strong shoulders.”
“…mark me?...” you replied weakly, and Loki hummed his answer. His nose trailed down your neck again inhaling your floral scent as small bite marks appeared on top of your right shoulder. His hands continued their way to your collarbone. His light touch making you shiver.
“And with my mouth, I’d gently suck on your skin right here until you bruised. Trailing down further until I reached your navel.” His finger slid down your front, feeling his touch in between your breast. A cool trail of his seidr followed summoning light bruises to mark you sporadically where his fingers had touched you.
His other hand reached around your throat, wrapping his fingers gently, but firmly, along your long neck. “Hmm…and my hand would look so fetching around your throat, keeping you breathless.” Coolness tingles around your neck as you shivered at the image he put in your head.
A breathy moan escaped you, unbidden, and it made Loki smile with pride. His fingers brushed your lips as you opened them, making him trace your pout with the tips of his fingers. “And these would be swollen from my endless kisses,” he purred.
You felt his touch all over your body. You felt his seidr caress you. Enveloping you in a cool embrace as half-hidden marks appeared on some of the more delicate parts of your body.
Loki pulled his body away from you and circled you. He looked you up and down, appreciating his work. “Hmm…”
“How do I look?” you asked coyly.
“Like you are mine,” he growled. A smoldering heat crept up your body, making your body blush and the marks he placed more prominent.
“What about you?” you asked bravely. His flirtatious behavior giving you the courage to ask. Loki raised his eyebrow in response. “Don’t I get to give you my marks as well?” you expressed.
You once again closed the gap between the two of you and nuzzled against his neck. You pulled his dress shirt down to the first open button. “I don’t have any magic.” He felt your lips vibrate at your words. His hands gripped the sides of your dress pulling you closer to him. “So, I guess I would have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
You began by licking a small stripe on his neck. You opened your lips to kiss and pull on the small patch of skin between his neck and collarbone. The scent of his cologne mixed with the tangible trace of his own musk made you feral.
Loki sighed and whimpered feeling your lips on him. He closed his eyes relishing every draw of your lips. Every scrape of your teeth. Every breathless moan you let out against his skin.
When you finished, you looked up into his eyes. Their playful glint was gone, replaced by deep longing and a savage desire. He lifted his face, looking down at you. Your mark flashing proudly on his fair skin. “How does it look?” he rasped. His voice was subdued, trying to contain the passion he was experiencing inside.
“Like you belong to me,” you said quickly. You gave him an innocent kiss on his cheek and smiled. You proceeded outside to the living room, leaving Loki standing there watching you walk away from him.
Outside the club, it was hot and humid. Sweat had trickled down your back. Loki tried to keep you cool with subtle touches here and there combined with his chilling skin. He dutifully played the husband who couldn’t keep his hands off of his new bride.
Inside the club, the air was thick and not much drier. They were misting water to keep the clubgoers cool and happy. The drinks were readily available and inexpensive, served by masked waitresses and barmen.
Loki openly handed the bouncer a $100 note to get bumped up to the front of the line. You both had to keep appearances up as you reserved a private booth for the two of you with bottle service to last the whole night. The two of you were attracting a lot of attention from everyone who wanted to scrounge in your supposed wealth.
Sitting next to him in your private booth gave you an opportunity to watch different parts of the club. You leaned in close to Loki, your hands trailing down his neck where your mark still bruised. You whispered in his ear all the things you were observing. “The bartenders keep giving away small shots of alcohol with some of the drinks. Do you think the drug is in the shots?” you whispered as you inhaled and crossed your leg to rest over his knee. You noted how that simple act took a lot more effort than it should have.
Loki trailed his hands up your calves and whispered, “I could care less darling. I find myself unable to concentrate at the moment.” His hand traveled under the hem of your dress as his face got dangerously close to kissing your neck.
He savored your warm floral scent. How it haunted him every time he went to bed and smelled your perfume on the pillow. He also detected another fragrance. Something earthy. Something darker. It smelled like an invitation. Like a tempting piece of Valhalla waiting to be consumed. It drove him mad.
You looked back at him in shock. What had come over him? His face contorted in passion and longing. You couldn’t help but respond in kind. Your movements started getting slow and heavy as you reached for his face.
“Loki…” you murmured. “Loki…I think we’ve been drugged.”
Loki’s mind was going miles a minute. He couldn’t think straight. He took a deep breath in and inhaled your aroma once again and the intoxicating need you had let out. He could smell your desire.
Shaky, he looked around. The sprayers misting the club had gone off, enveloping the room in a haze. It’s a gas! The drug is in the mist!
You had started leaning towards Loki. Your body started shutting down. “Loki, I…I’m blacking out…call…help…”
“Darling, let’s go. We need to go back to the hotel room.” Loki pressed the distress signal that was located in your purse. He carried you by your hips, hoping that it would look believable enough not to raise suspicions that you were both under the influence.
“And ver do you tink you’re going, Avengers?” A callous voice said from behind Loki. A tall, burly man in a suit wearing a transparent mask stepped out from the shadows. “Vee don’t take kindly to people snooping around. Do you like the special mixture we made for you? Breathe deep, my friends. For it will be your last.” The man smiled as he reached for a weapon inside his breast pocket.
Loki couldn’t think of anything else to do but try to transport the two of you back to the hotel lobby or somewhere public, where there are lots of people to hide with.
If HYDRA knew they were being spied on, then they probably knew which room the two of you were staying at. He couldn’t risk transporting the two of you back there.
Loki brought the two of you to the restaurant he spotted earlier. The waiter, surprised that someone was sitting at a table without his knowledge, came by to see what was going on.
Loki looked flushed and irritated as his breathing got heavier and the air around him started to change. On the other hand, you could barely keep your eyes open, leaning on Loki to help you get around. “Rodgers, get here now. NO. Tonight! We’ve been compromised.” Loki hung up the call.
That was the last thing you heard before your sight faded into black. Your hearing got muted into a single ringing noise in your head. You felt a cold chill as your body stiffened up. The only reason why you didn’t feel scared was the lingering smell of his musk, filling your nose.
“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Read Pheromones, the conclusion.
🏷️@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writes @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias @lokixryss @athalialaufeyson @thedistractedagglomeration @theotherspiderlady @gigglingtigger @skymoonandstardust
#writing ideas#fic prompt#loki fanfic#loki fluff#mcu#loki laufeyson#loki fandom#loki x you#loki oneshot#loki x reader#marvel fanfic#loki series#pheromones#prequel
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When he was first told his assignment, he could not believe it. He was going to be stationed with someone named Kenobi, and even worse, away from the siblings he grew up with. His anger was quenched a little when he read more about the jetti he was assigned to. Thought to be one of the best negotiators of this time, Master Kenobi is a competent man of honor and wisdom. But then the war started and he was thrust onto the front lines with this man. Battle after battle, day after day.
The war was something worse that he could have ever feared. The death, destruction and pain was astronomical. Sometimes the casualty list was long enough to wrap around himself, let him fall into an everlasting sleep with his siblings. But he had to stay strong. For his brothers and his general.
Speaking of the man, he was one thing that the report had failed to mention. He was impulsive as all hell. After the first battle, hell, after the first day of knowing Kenobi, Cody had almost lost his mind. Shure, the man was competent and showed great faith to his siblings and himself. But he was also crazy in the way that he was willing to throw himself at blaster fire, slice missiles and bombs clean in half as opposed to letting even one man die on his watch.
Cody had to say, he liked Kenobi for that. And if he had to say, he was very good at hiding it. He didn’t let himself get dreamy eyed, unlike someone he had heard about (it was Bly). But it only takes a few minutes with Rex to crack someone, even if they had the will of beskar. It was after the latest battle with the 501st when Rex approached Cody with the snottiest grin on his face.
“How’s your general Cody?”
“He’s fine. '' He was caught off-guard by the question, not that Cody was lying. He did think that Kenobi was fine. It's just his unchecked self desecration that was the problem he thought to himself. He looks down at the cup he is holding. If Cody needed at least three cups of caff to make it through the day on Kamino, he needed nearly twice as much now. He took an elongated sip from the mug, staring Rex in the soul. “Why are you really here Rex?”
“I can’t come and visit my brother every once in a while?” Rex asked, almost passing as annoyed, but the shit eating grin still slapped on his face didn’t help his cause. “Ok, I might have heard the generals having a conversation about the ‘rules of attachment’ and what-not.” He looked at Cody “so i would drop that crush soon, or you’ll be decommissioned, and he will be kicked out of the order.”
Wait, what? “What are you talking about Rex?”
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Prequel to the first part of this fic i wrote. i likie
guys i wrote sm im so proud of myself
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Honor Bound 6 - 26
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.
AO3
Masterlist
Contents: PTSD, past captivity, references to being unsure of reality, thoughts of murder, self-harm themes, bad reaction to discovering self-harm, harm reduction, recovery
~
Isaac felt better already, knowing there was a locked door between him and the rest of the world. He had locked it behind Vera and Tori as they came in with tonight’s dinner: a hearty shepherd’s pie with rich bites of tender chicken, carrots, and potatoes all in a mouthwatering gravy. Once he had locked the front door, he had walked to the back door and made sure – for the second or third time since he’d gotten home – that it was still locked. It was, but it didn’t hurt to be so sure.
Edrissa had gotten into the house through the unlocked back door and then held a knife to Gavin’s throat. Isaac would have to be stupid to not check, and recheck, and check again.
Isaac sat on one side of Gavin on the couch, and Gray sat on the other. Vera, Sam, and Tori sat sandwiched on the other couch. Now that everyone was finished with dinner, Gavin leaned against Isaac’s side, and Isaac’s arm was slung over his shoulders. Gavin wasn’t shivering for the first time since they’d left the house that morning. Isaac was sated on two large slices of shepherd’s pie.
And yet, he ached to be holding his gun. The concerned glances Vera was throwing him weren’t helping.
“Thank you so much for bringing dinner,” Gray said, finally breaking the silence. “Did you make the pie, or buy it in town?”
“Bought it,” Vera said with a chuckle. “I appreciate your faith in us, but after everything… um. Recently.” She gave a stiff shrug. “Neither of us have felt like cooking.” She smiled tiredly at Tori over Sam’s head.
Gray let out a huff. “Same here,” they said gently. “But we’ve all been… through a lot. I don’t think anyone’s expecting anyone else to be out there crafting gourmet meals.”
“Except Edrissa,” Vera said tightly. “Apparently she’s been, uh… helping Meredith out. With the pies at the general store. Spending most of her time there, actually.”
“Really,” Gray said. Their tone was perfectly even.
Isaac’s hand tightened into a fist as the image of her flashed through his mind – cowering behind Gavin in that bathroom, eyes wild and streaming, clutching herself, looking terrified, as if she was the fucking victim and not the one pressing a knife to a man’s throat hard enough to draw blood just seconds before.
To Gavin’s throat.
His jaw ached and he swallowed hard. He forced himself to release his fist and brushed his lips to Gavin’s temple instead. He felt Vera’s eyes on him the whole time. He cleared his throat.
Sam wet their lips and leaned forward, seeming to sense the tension. “We’ve been keeping things as calm as possible here,” they said with a glance at Isaac. “Mostly just… sleeping.” They laughed. “All of us. Mostly Gray.”
“I don’t appreciate the accusation,” Gray said good-naturedly. “Although, god, I’ve never slept so much in my life.”
“What about you, Gavin?” Tori said softly. She reached over the back of the couch and rested a hand on Vera’s shoulder. “How are you sleeping?”
Gavin relaxed further against Isaac’s side and drew in a deep breath, thinking. “Well,” he murmured. “Better than in… than with Schiester. That’s definitely for sure. But…” Isaac bit his lip and waited for the second shoe to drop. “…it’s… sometimes hard to tell where I am. When I wake up.”
Isaac’s heart twisted. He knew all too well the things Gavin said, and fucking believed, when he wasn’t sure if he was staring at Isaac himself or merely a figment of his own imagination.
“D-don’t you want to… to punish me? …you want to, right? It’s… Isaac, it’s… it’s okay. It’s not… real, I know that. You can do… whatever you want. I can give that to you… if you want. I know it doesn’t really help you… But it’s what I have. P-please don’t stop touching me. Please… Isaac… please, this… this feels better than… a-anything he does to me.”
Shame clogged Isaac’s throat. His fingers itched for his knife. Fuck.
“Yeah,” Vera was saying. “Yeah, that’s… that’s the hardest part, I think. After. The waking up and not knowing, for a while.”
Isaac’s head snapped up. Vera held Gavin’s gaze, and he stared at her with an understanding that Isaac had never shared. Even though everyone except for Gray had been held captive, tortured, collared – what Gavin and Vera shared now was different. They had both been taken, punished by a sadist, had their minds broken down by pain and time – and drugs, in Gavin’s case. They had been kept in a basement, shackled for use because it brought a madman pleasure.
And they had both been alone.
Isaac’s hand shook as he slid it into Gavin’s and squeezed.
“Does that ever go away?” Gavin murmured, as if he had forgotten anyone else was there. Tears shone in his eyes.
“Yes,” Vera answered immediately. Then, she said, “Mostly. Months or years go by, and then you’ll have a shitty day or a bad nightmare and you’ll wake up not knowing where you are again. But the thing that matters is, it passes. And you’re always, always out once it passes.”
“Unless I get taken again,” Gavin whispered as the tears spilled over. “Like you did. Twice.” He shuddered and muffled a sob against Isaac’s shoulder.
Isaac’s arms wound around him in a trembling embrace, pulling Gavin into his lap. Vera stared at the floor, chewing on her lip.
She was taken again three times, if you count the time she went in to save Tori and killed Joseph Stormbeck to escape.
Isaac bit his tongue and shook his head to clear the thought.
“Alright, scootch over,” Tori mumbled as she crossed the living room to drop into the spot where Gavin had been sitting, gently laying a hand on Gavin where he now sat shivering on Isaac’s lap. She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across Gavin’s shoulders. “There, better?”
Gavin nodded with his face pressed to Isaac’s neck. His tears streamed into the neckline of Isaac’s shirt. He wrapped Gavin up again, carefully tucking him in, and glanced at Tori inquisitively.
Tori nodded at Vera. “She’s a lot more sensitive to cold when she’s in the thick of it,” she said gently. “And he’s got goosebumps.”
“No shit?” Vera said. “Is that why you always get a blanket when I’m having a bad day?”
The corner of Tori’s mouth curved up. “Yes, dear, that’s why I always get a blanket when you’re having a bad day.”
Vera raised her eyebrows. “No shit,” she mumbled.
“Schiester k-kept the basement cold,” Gavin muttered into Isaac’s neck. “If I wanted blankets I had to… t-tell him things.”
All the blood drained from Isaac’s face. “What… kinds of things?” he croaked.
“Confessions,” Gavin whimpered. “I… I don’t think most of them were true. I don’t remember. I didn’t care. I was cold. Ziegler told me most of the things I admitted to weren’t true.”
“Who the fuck is Ziegler and are we killing them?” Vera said, sitting up straight and staring at Isaac. “Someone who knew you were down there?”
“Y-yes,” Gavin managed through a particularly violent shudder. “He… he didn’t… hurt me as much. And he… let me go.”
Vera’s eyes went wide. “Like—”
“Not like Ryan,” Isaac said sternly. Tears glittered on Vera’s eyelashes. “Just a guard who decided not to kill me when I was pulling Gavin out.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” Gavin said in a small voice. “He… he could have but he… didn’t.”
“But—”
“Fair enough, Gavin,” Vera interrupted. She shot Isaac a glare. “I get it. That can be enough to keep you sane. Just one person who doesn’t want to hurt you as much as the others.”
Gavin nodded weakly against Isaac’s neck. Isaac tried to meet Vera’s glare, but she shot daggers at him and he faltered. Tori’s hand moved in small, gentle circles on Gavin’s back.
“No one’s taking you again,” Isaac whispered against Gavin’s hair. His arms shook with how hard he squeezed Gavin. “No one. You’re safe, alright? You’re… you’re safe.”
As soon as Edrissa is dealt with—
I wonder if I could get to her before anyone realizes what I’ve done—
“You’re okay, Gavin,” Tori said gently, her hair mingling with his as she leaned in close. “We’ve got you.”
“Y-yeah,” Gavin heaved, and shuddered violently. His hand wrapped around Isaac’s wrist. “Yeah. I’m out.”
Edrissa’s the one who last made him question where he was. I’m going to fucking—
“What the fuck is that?” Vera snapped from her place on the couch.
Isaac’s head shot up and he glanced around the room, ready to neutralize the threat. He met Vera’s eyes and realized she was looking at him – no, not at him.
At his arm.
The sleeve was pulled up slightly on his forearm, exposing a scar left by Gavin’s knife – and the cut he himself had made over it, not five days ago. The angry line flared red in the dim light, and it was devastatingly obvious what it was.
Isaac dragged the sleeve down over the cut, obscuring his entire hand. “Nothing,” he growled.
“Isaac, fuck,” Vera breathed. She rose from the couch and stood over Isaac, staring down at him, looking stricken. “That…” Her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the line of cuts up and down Isaac’s arm.
Isaac yanked his arm out of Vera’s grasp, cringing back into the couch. Gavin slid off his lap and partially onto Tori. Isaac couldn’t even look at Tori; he could barely bring himself to look at Vera, who stared down at him in horror.
“It’s nothing,” Isaac pleaded with a broken voice.
“Vera, let’s respect Isaac’s desire for privacy,” Gray said, a little weakly.
Isaac could feel Gavin’s gaze drilling holes into the side of his head. He blinked back tears and swallowed hard against the shame strangling him. Slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.
Vera beat him to it. “I… told you not to punish yourself,” she said. She held her hands lamely out to her sides. “You said you wouldn’t—”
“No, I didn’t,” Isaac said through his teeth. “I never said that.”
Vera shook her head. “But—”
“I wouldn’t have said that,” Isaac said. His voice was fading, cracking under the pressure of Vera’s gaze. Having Gavin so close to him, feeling all eyes in the room on him, on his arms, safely hidden again under his long sleeves, was too much to bear. He swallowed again, hoping his dinner would stay down. “I never lied to you.”
“I n-never said you did,” Vera croaked. Her hands were in fists at her sides now. “I… how long?”
Isaac shook his head. He glanced at Sam, who stared right back at him. A quiet sort of pain pinched their mouth. “I… would really rather not have this conversation,” he said thickly.
“Yeah, I bet you wouldn’t,” Vera breathed. She sniffed and lifted her chin against the tears that glittered in her eyes. “Isaac… why didn’t you tell me?”
“What, and have you react like this?” He meant to snarl the words, but they came out weak and pathetic sounding.
She nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she murmured. “That’s… that’s fair. I’m sorry, I… This isn’t… how I should be reacting.”
“Let’s everyone take a breath,” Gray said softly. “Vera, do you want to sit down?”
Vera returned to her couch on stiff legs and fell to her seat beside Sam. Isaac could breathe a little easier, without her standing over him. Gavin crawled back onto his lap and wrapped his arms around Isaac’s neck.
“Sorry,” Vera said flatly. She drew in a deep inhale and let it out in a gusty breath. “Sorry. That’s… probably the last fucking thing you needed.”
“Yeah,” Isaac said. He shrank as Gavin laid his head on his shoulder.
“Isaac, can I touch you?” Tori said. Isaac jumped, but relaxed a little when he met her eyes. Her gaze was soft, sad, but not filled with horror. Not like Vera’s. He nodded, and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“I’m really sorry,” Vera whispered. “That was… I wish I could take that back.” She wiped her eyes and sat up, taking another deep breath. “That was shitty of me.”
“No,” Isaac grumbled. His arms stung as if all the cuts were brand new. He longed to scratch at the ones that itched, but he couldn’t bear to draw any more attention to them. He swallowed tightly. “I should never have…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“No.” Vera held up a shaking hand. “Don’t… don’t do that.” She raked her fingers through her hair and stared at the floor. “Um…”
Isaac couldn’t bring himself to say any of the things that were echoing through his head:
I know this hurts you. I know I did it because I’m weak. I know I would never have had to do it if I had just kept my family safe in the first place. I know…
He knew right where his knife was, too. Gray had taken the one he usually used, but he had another in his pack. All he would have to do is—
“Boy I wish someone else would say something,” Vera said with a broken laugh.
Gray leaned forward with a warm glance toward Isaac. “Did you hear Sam is going to be staying with us?” they said, without missing a beat. Isaac could have cried with gratitude at no longer being the subject of discussion.
Tori beamed and glanced at Sam. “I didn’t hear that! That’s so great.” Her voice was tighter than Gray’s, but it was still light. Isaac felt a wash of gratitude for her, too.
“Yeah,” Sam said. They sounded so tired. But happy, too. “Yeah, I talked to Zachariah about it and… I’m going to be staying here for a while.” They grinned at Isaac. “The foreseeable future.”
“That’s awesome,” Vera said, with only a little flatness to her voice.
“We’re definitely happy about it,” Gray said with a smile.
“It’ll be really nice to… to have you here, Sam,” Isaac croaked. He rearranged his face into what was probably a smile and willed the darkness in his chest to dissipate. “It’ll be nice to be together.” His arms tightened around Gavin as he said it.
Sam nodded, their expression brightening further. “We were worried about where I was going to sleep, but…” They patted the couch cushion next to them. “Turns out this couch is extremely comfortable. After how long we spent on the road, just about anything feels good.”
“You slept on my floor on an air mattress for months,” Tori said with a laugh. “Anything is better than that.”
“Even sleeping on the ground during winter?” Sam said with a mischievous smile. All at once, the exhaustion around their eyes faded away, and they looked like themself again. They looked like the Sam Isaac had always known.
“Depends on the winter,” Tori said. “In the south it wasn’t bad.”
“I’ll take the air mattress,” Vera interjected, raising her hand. “If I get a say.”
“Yeah, because it was on my floor,” Tori shot back with a conspiratory grin.
Everyone laughed at that, even Isaac. He felt the cold fist around his heart loosen a bit, then fall away entirely. As he looked around at the people he loved, feeling Gavin’s warm weight in his lap and Gray’s shoulder brushing his, he could breathe a little easier. He could survive another few minutes without his knife.
Perhaps he could go without it entirely, tonight. It would still be there in the morning if he needed it, and he figured he would. But… maybe then he could just hold some ice instead, if he didn’t need it too badly. What he knew for sure, though, was that he didn’t need the knife tonight.
With his family around him, alive, safe… he could go without the knife for a little longer.
Continued here
@womping-grounds , @free-2bmee , @quirkykayleetam , @walkingchemicalfire , @inpainandsuffering , @redwingedwhump , @burtlederp , @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments , @whumpywhumper , @stxck-fxck , @whumps-the-word , @justplainwhump , @finder-of-rings , @inky-whump , @orchidscript , @inkyinsanity , @this-mightaswell-happen , @newandfiguringitout , @whumpkitty , @pretty-face-breaker , @pebbledriscoll , @im-just-here-for-the-whump , @endless-whump , @grizzlie70 , @oops-its-whump , @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite , @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam
#honor bound 6#hurt/comfort#angst#whump#Isaac/Gavin#HMS ToriVera#PTSD#past captivity#unsure of reality#thoughts of murder#self-harm#harm reduction#recovery
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La La Lost You (m) (teaser) | cyj
title: La La Lost You (m)
<< one-shot prequel to love u lately >>
pairing: choi yeonjun x f. reader
feat. bits of yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff, smut ; fake dating au; post-high school au, lowkey tatbilb au
summary: choi yeonjun was simply just your academic rival, competing for honors at graduation during your senior year. however, when one of your (distant) friends' brothers is getting married, your 3 guy best friends all have dates to the event except you. in order not to feel like a loser, you decide to call up the only other tolerable male you know: Yeonjun, to be your fake date. what will happen when a childish fake date scheme actually ends up turning into your first real relationship lasting an entire summer. it may ultimately.. not end well
note: i KNOW i have yet to finish Love U Lately, but i wanted to present this prequel idea to you guys!! i know many of y'all may not be a txt moa, but this one shot will definitely add a lot more insight on previous events and character insight to other bts characters in LUL that don't get much of a spotlight
note 2: you do not have to read LUL to understand this fic. honestly might be better if you haven't read it! it will heavily focused on the mentioned previous relationship reader had with yeonjun before starting college and well as the perspectives of yoonminjoon and their attitudes towards it as they were still struggling with their romantic feelings for reader
warnings: language, sexual innuendo mentions, maybe some smut, underage drinking, yeonjun has a band, soobin appearance, jungkook has a small crush on reader, halsey shows up!, yoonminjoon being jealous and overprotective, typical things that happen in a summer romance, bonfire party, eventual breakup
smut warnings: tba
drop date: spring 2024
word count: 15k (projected)
"Look, Choi, I need you to-"
"Need me? Sounds kinda erotic." The taller boy chuckles, and your face scowls, turning a heavy shade of red.
"Huh? You're gross! As if I would EVER do anything trashy with you!" You cross your arms, feeling impatient. Jimin should be here any minute from his last class across campus so you can both go home together. This isn't gonna work, and you don't have any more time for this.
"You know what, never mind. I don't even know why I bothered to think of asking you. I should've asked Mark instead." You turn around, deciding to walk away from the situation. You'll take the L! You'll go to Seokjin's dumb brother's wedding by yourself like the loser you are while everyone else has dates.
"Hey, wait!" Yeonjun pulls your arm toward him, making you turn back around. "Alright. Fine, princess, I'm listening. What is it?" He looks at you, finally with sincerity in his eyes.
God, I guess if he actually wants to listen, then you'll say it. What could go wrong?
You tiptoe and lean in close to his ear, catching Yeonjun slightly off guard. "Okay. I need you to be my fake date to my friend's brother's wedding."
Yeonjun blinks repeated, processing the request. After realizing he was frozen, he immediately goes back to his usual expression and smirks. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone couldn't resist the charm of Choi Yeonjun after all."
You roll your eyes, "Hell no. Please, I'd rather dance with a cactus."
He raises an eyebrow, "You sure about that? Cacti can be quite prickly, you know."
You huff, "Just shut up and play along. I need you to act like a decent human being for one evening. You owe me anyways., remember?"
Yeonjun smirks again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Decent human being? That's a stretch," he grins, clearly enjoying this. "But sure, why not? It's not every day someone gets to be in the presence of greatness."
You scoff, shaking your head, "Greatness? Please. Just don't embarrass me, okay?"
Yeonjun's grin widens, "No promises, sweetheart. But I'll do my best. After all, I owe you."
"Yeah, yeah. Just be ready to suffer through a night of pretending to like me," you retort with a wry smile.
"Oh, the sacrifices I make for you," he replies, sarcasm dripping from every word.
As you walk away, hoping to meet jimin halfway (where the hell is he?) you can't help but mutter under your breath, "This is gonna be a disaster."
Yeonjun's laughter follows you from a very short distance, "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."
➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist!
➸ love u lately series masterlist
#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun#yeonjun smut#txt smut#yoonminjoon#love u lately#prequel#bts fic#txt fic#kpop smut#college au#tatbilb#la la lost you#txt imagines#txt hard hours#choi yeonjun x reader#yoonminjoon fic
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so I may have decided to work on a short (or...a series of shorts) that serves as backstory/a prequel to another cluster of WIPs, instead of working on the WIPs themselves, and--
-drops a gift- uh merry christmas happy new year idk -sprints away-
Another snippet shared in [this] post!
~~~
“I plead for your protection, honored one. For safety.” I wet my lips, all too aware of how many eyes were watching from the corners of the room. “My family aims to send me away for their own gain, but I wish for happiness. I will not sacrifice myself for them.”
A low chuckle rumbled through the roost. “Are familial ties not precious to mortals? Do you not consider such sacrifice to be your duty?” He asked, amber eyes glowing through the thin curtain.
I stood taller before realizing it could be taken as defiance and tipped my head forward again. “This mortal does not,” I said through gritted teeth. My hands trembled as I reached for my collar—not from fear, from rage—and unbuttoned it to reveal my throat, still ringed in vibrant bruises from choking fingers. “I’ve given enough in the name of family. I desire only freedom.”
Silence answered. Long enough that my gaze slid toward the attending priests, certain I’d been dismissed before I could finish pleading my case. But no, their eyes remained on the curtain. Waiting. Listening. I took a steadying breath and remained on the platform, tapping out the seconds on my knuckles.
“Why have you come here, to me?” He asked finally, and I was surprised to hear what could almost be genuine curiosity in His voice. “My sister by the sea is better known for offering safety to those who plead her favor, and I am certainly not known for the same generosity. Yet you made the long, hard journey to my cliffs instead. You will find little protection here. Seekers come to me for vengeance. Power. I fear you’ve come to the wrong place, mortal.”
#writing#rai writes#Three Hill Bluff#Song of Freedom#''I will work on Silent One'' I said. full of hubris and hope#''But what if we focus on something that happened hundreds of years BEFORE that???'' brain replied. with a sly smile#''oh no'' I whispered hours later with a 4k long doc of notes in front of me#anyway its not what I PLANNED on working at but Im having fun and it IS useful to me so#I guess this is what Im going to be poking for a bit lol
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So, why is self-love day the hardest day of all? Every year, I see dozens of posts for all the other days - and then it slows rapidly for self-love. Meanwhile, here I am telling people, "Get to it! I want to see your self-love posts," and I'm like, "Oh, shit, that means I should do one!" lol
I'm proudest of venturing into writing for Wake the Dead and Crimes of Passion. I can't wait to write more for both of them in the future.
Wake the Dead is the pleasure of "writing for me" because, while I have a few readers who really enjoyed those works, it's not a popular story/pairing, but I love it. The Eli prequel fics are among my favorites, but I love his story with Zoe, too. I plan to expand on their HC in the near future. One of my favorite Eli x Zoe fics is Comfort & Joy. A bittersweet story that honors all they've been through, while showing what they've brought into each other's lives.
With Crimes of Passion, I have had so much fun getting to know Trytan and Carolina better, and I can't wait to explore their story more. I have loved the angsty/fluffy stories about them in my HC; some favorites are Better This Way, Breathe Again, and "...and you have me." I also enjoyed writing an angsty AU based on what would happen if they didn't stay together in Book 2 called A Moment in Time. The final part of that series will be up in the next couple of weeks.
Back in Open Heart, I'm happy I've written more about my MC Casey's past, particularly her relationship with her ex-girlfriend, Jessica.
But, of all my pairings, Tobias & Casey still have my heart. They really are the OTP for me. I haven't done enough with them recently, and plan on remedying that. I have some angstier outstanding AUs that I want to work on: What's Forever For?, an AU where the divorce (though neither really wanted to) and now they have to figure out how to move forward, By Chance, which is a messy AU where they met and fell hard... but they were too young and god will they screw things up in this messy AU, and I am like a year late at finishing up Where it Goes From Here, god, I suck (wait, that's not self-love! lol)
In my HC for the pair, I'm going to finally show you HOW they got together, and that's my immediate goal. Then I'll explore their future because, honestly, how much longer will we have an OH fandom :(.
Another thing I've loved this year is how much fun they've had with friends! With @lilyoffandoms Ethan and Merida and @storyofmychoices Bryce and Olivia - I need to create a masterlist for this crew! I will, and I will come back and tag it!
Then they went and became besties with @mydemonsdrivealimo's Jensen and Bryce, and I ended up dropping these two nutty, amazing men right into my HC. They need a list too. Shit, I have work to do. lol
They even got to play with @trappedinfanfiction's Ethan x Celia. Tobias & Casey get AROUND, and that's fitting for my babies! lol
In Ethan and Kaycee's land I will be wrapping up A Different Fate, which is my favorite thing that I've done for them in the past year. I got a $40 donation for Anera through Write for Gaza Project, and the donor (who wishes to remain anonymous) asked me to finish this series. I can't think of a better reason to do so!
Also had some fun with some uber-fluff for these two in As Planned, , and I do. Me too.
I introduced Ethan's LI in my T/C wold, Dr. Eva Mendoza, and I will be exploring her more in 2024.
That's all I've got kids - and that's way too much anyway - so we're all good! Now - I want to see yours! :)
@choicesfandomappreciation
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FANFIC TAGGING GAME
I got (honorable) tagged by the wonderful @theartofdreaming1- thanks!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 321
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,322,068 words (at the moment)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Still writing for The Flash, but every once in a while a new show/movie grabs my fancy and I write a few fics for that.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
An unimpressive bunch but here goes: Muse (456), Replacement Scrunchie (393), Fallen Star (357), Inconvenient Inspiration (343), and Drabbles (277). Muse is a handful of one-shots based solely off spoilers before I saw the eps they were for. Replacement Scrunchie is my sole fic for the TATBILB fandom about Peter & LJ's first date (which was way less impressive than what the sequel movie gave us, WOW). Fallen Star is my most popular westallen fic to date, so that one's actually not too surprising. But both Inconvenient Inspiration and Drabbles are requested (the latter) and spontaneous (the former) brainstorming ficlets and snippets for The Flash/WA. Bo-ring.
5. Do you respond to comments?
Eventually.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Oh, gosh, I have so many unfinished fics that it's hard to remember the complete ones that I finished that didn't end so happy, of which there aren't many. Maybe...Breaking Point though.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All the others have happy endings. Go read them. Lol.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
When I wrote for another fandom I did, but not really in The Flash fandom, which is nice.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Yep. And uh...descriptive, I guess? I'm def not the best out there, but I do my best and for the most part smut-lovers seem to enjoy.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I've attempted a couple crossovers, but I haven't completed any or gotten far with them, usually because there wasn't an audience for it.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yeah, I discovered a whole bunch on another website years ago.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
In the process of it!
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Stuck on Westallen atm, but I used to write Chair, and I was highly obsessed with them as well.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Oh god, I have SO MANY WIPs. One that I really want to finish but fear I won't though has got to be He's MY Barry Allen. I'm just stuck on what the next chapter will look like, and as of yet no one has come forward with a solution. Lol. The Problem is Tony Woodward is another one like that.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I'd like to think I can hook people into my fics fairly well and drop enough cliffies to keep them coming back for more. But ofc the smut helps too. Most of my fics include at least some smut, even a single scene.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Sometimes I have trouble making a chapter (or a scene for that matter) all that long. I've seen people write like 10k+ for a chap, and unless I'm crazy inspired, roughly 1-3k is what you're getting.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I actually dabbled in this a little bit for a westallen fic where Iris was learning Italian, I think? I did some research and managed to sift in enough for that one-shot, but I can't imagine I'd do it repeatedly or for a multi-chap.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
I believe it was the STAR WARS prequels, but it might've been The Day After Tomorrow.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
It's unfinished, but there's so much untapped potential in my Flashpoint fic. Lots of world-building that's present as it rides the line between canon divergent and AU. Hopefully one day I'll get back to it.
...
As much as I'd love to tag a bunch of people, I can't recall anyone who still writes fic that I follow on here, so I'll just shout out my bestie @simplylove101 who is prob done with writing but may want to answer these questions either way!
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That TCU post…that is truly one of, if not the greatest thing I’ve ever seen come out of this fandom. I tried my own hand a while back at writing “the dsmp but taken seriously”; gave it a name and a playlist but didn’t really write much before I went back to my other projects. If you ever have the motivation to do more with that outline I’d be honored to be a co-writer or help out in any way, or if you want you could just use my title as a name for the series: A Ballad of Broken Dreams.
holy crap op this is so sweet. Thank you so much. I’m… wow ok. That. Wow. Thank you. That’s legitimately so kind and I’m so glad you enjoyed it XD. Id also Love to see your playlist and your thoughts behind the songs if you’re down?! That sounds awesome :D
funnily enough, I’ve had a drafted outline for this heccin thing running around in my head since the Butcher Army arc. Right around when SAD-ist dropped her animatic, I simultaneously realized ‘oh wow, I Adore this concept’ and ‘oh wow, I Highly doubt the CCs are gonna manage to do this the way I’d want to see it’ and lo and behold: I was correct. So painfully correct. (There were also People Involved whom I had Really Bad Feelings About from very early on that, sure enough, turned out to be exactly what i thought they were, rip) So the Emduo prequels, Icarus heccin Dying, and the end of Axe of Peace have been around for Ages.
I’d honestly love to do more with this concept, (i am designing movie posters as we speak) but due to Chronic Illness Pog I’m in a rather unstable financial situation? And don’t have a ton of free time for art. Any big projects are gonna take a While, or id need to find a way to use it or something adjacent to fund, y’know, Rent. That being said, I’m definitely writing the emduo prequels, both as movie scripts and as novels, as those are the films focused on, yknow, My Bois. I also think it’d be hilarious to release the novels and then the scripts and watch people Loose Their Minds over the ‘inaccurate adaptation >>:(‘
I’d absolutely love to work with other people in the fandom on this stuff, though I’ve never been the best at directly co-writing (my writing method and style is painfully specific (ie needlessly poetic) and I’m very autistic: I don’t like it when people touch that Specific Thing) but literally anything else? Im open ears. I love collabs.
and finally, I adore your name for the series, (excellent word choice there /srs, it fits perfectly with the symbolism of the whole story) and I think it works really Really well for the actual DSMP, but if I’m entirely honest… I’m not sure it fits the TCU? Like genuinely I’m so grateful for the suggestion, I love when people offer ideas and bounce things around like that. But one of the main things I tried to do with this concept was work out how the story could actually end Well. A deep-seated belief in the good-but-fallen nature of man, the importance of hope, and the inevitability of redemption kinda comes part and parcel with the whole Being-A-Christian Thing (if it doesn’t, you’re missing the Whole Point Of The Bible) and while the actual DSMP may have ended in broken dreams… this doesn’t. That was my first thought when writing that outline: This Is Going To End Well. Not for wish-fulfillment reasons, not because I’m naive or I don’t like bad endings, but because fundamentally, everything sad is a lie, and if the story has ended in tragedy, it hasn’t ended yet.
If I had to pick a series name now, I’m not sure what I’d pick. A part of me balks at referencing anything popularized by Our Local Redacted, but ‘unfinished symphony’ wasn’t his in the first place, it was from Hamilton. “The Finished Symphony” has a cool ring to it? I dunno. If anyone else has ideas please feel free to toss them in here aight, I’m not settling on anything for a While.
Anyways, thanks for Ted talking with me, drink water 💜
#TCU#Sure hope that tag isn’t already used for anything horrible I don’t know about XD#Technoblade Cinematic Universe#Asks#I’ve never really answered an ask before this is new and exciting#Op sorry for co-opting your ask to rant about the goodness of life and the importance of redemption for a sec there#Well I’m not Sorry sorry but you get my meaning XD#technoblade#dsmp#dsmp au#antarctic empire#emduo
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Hello
What is a character that you did not expect you would like but ended up being obsessed with?
Hi thank you for the question! You have no idea what can of worms you just opened haha! My answer is Obi-Wan but wait- let me explain!
I first watched the Star Wars movies with my family when I was 5 or 6 in the order that they were released. So originals then prequels. Over the years, we watched 2003 Clone Wars, the TCW movie, and then we would catch some episodes of TCW from time to time when we were somewhere that had cable TV and was playing the show on Cartoon Network.
My little child brain did not see any nuance whatsoever because I was a child and therefore all my favorite characters were characters I thought were cool or the epitome of #girlpower (I'm a lesbian. I was obsessing over them in a lesbian way. I did not know this. Go women.) To me, Obi-Wan was just a white man. He was nice but he was also bland and boring. I didn't really touch his action figure when I would play with the Star Wars ones my brothers and I shared.
Last year I decided to watch Star Wars in chronological order of events rather than release date. And I really wanted to sit down and actually watch TCW because I'd only seen odd episodes here and there as a kid. In my rewatch, I was struck by Obi-Wan's kind heart, undying belief in the Jedi Order and the light side of the Force, sass and wit mingling with posh Brit attitude, the way he just slays nonstop (even in flavors of drowned wet cat and pathetic meow meow), and his overwhelming vibes of bisexuality. I was quite taken by him. He went from being just some white guy to being My Special White Guy.
[If you are curious and would like to see my list of childhood faves, it's under the cut.]
Vader - He's intimidating and I had his lightsaber. (Came in a three pack of Vader, Luke, and Obi-Wan. My mom went ham for things that came in three's or multiples of three because I'm a triplet and it's convenient)
C-3P0 - He literally went to the school of cuntology. (Special honor goes to his husband R2. Inseparable comedy and fuck-shit-up duo.)
Leia - She's a badass and I'm a lesbian. Slave Leia outfit did something to my developing brain.
Padmé - She's competent and I'm a lesbian. Also I would regularly check out the Star Wars visual dictionaries from the library or just look at them while I was there (I would go every Wednesday) and stare her costumes for way too long. Genuinely, I was (and still am) obsessed with every single costume they gave her.
Ahsoka - Jedi who's a girl and also a kid like me???!? Instant fave.
Ventress - Oaughhhgg drop dead gorgeous woman with two beautiful red lightsabers and the way she fights????? Guards, take me away
Aurra Sing - Genuinely think this one was because I'm a lesbian. I recall checking out a novel where she was the mc along with a comic that featured her from the library and the only thing from them I remember is looking at the pictures of her and thinking she's so pretty.
Mace Windu - Special honors go to him because his lightsaber color is the best. When I dove into Star Wars fandom spaces for the first time last year, I could not fathom why I kept seeing people say stuff about "Windu hate". I was under the impression the only thing to critique was they didn't let Samuel L Jackson say motherfucker even once. I stand by this.
#again thank you for the ask!! <3333#lasagna rambles#im a certified Obi-Wan lover now#also whenever i show my mom my art she calls him “Obi” which i think is the cutest thing#no one get me started on how i fell in love with Cody because im a bit unhinged#obi wan kenobi#ask box
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i did it, i read the whole thing in a day
i'm not a sportsy gal, i have asthma, and was always bad playing whatever, also i'm not really competitive, so not usually a universe that calls me, you know. But we are spommy simps, what can I do. Also, big fan of your stories, and a fan of a rival to lovers trope. I just had to. Loved everything about it. At the end, i also got emotional over a bunch of fictional teens playing soccer. Coach Amanda? I'm here for it. Bonus that i'm contemplative because new years, 2024 i'll have some mor leadership responsabilities at work and i'm kinda not feeling myself so, yeah, spence, i feel you. The whole story put my mind in a good place. And I can barely wait for all the spin offs and all other stuff I know you will post as well.
Like, you could share the charts mapping you said you had, and what was your thinking process behind some stuff like who as goind to be in each team and so on.
!!!!!!! this is SO so kind omg this made my whole day :')
i am no longer sporty so i totally understand you!!! im honestly shocked people read this at all LKNDFLKSNGKLNR but im honored yall did <3 thank you so, so, SO much. trust me i am emotional about the cheetahs at all times......... they are everything to me i love that dynamic. and yes im the same about all the responsibilities!!!! KALFNLKFNNR you know me so well - there's a prequel and two sequels planned ! (at least. idk where else we'll go but i Know those are in the works <3)
OH well if you insist..... @spencersagnew also asked me for this in a comment on ao3 so i suppose.... (i am dying to talk about it for the love of god). i will say if you're interested..... a lil edit might be dropping tonight that also says some of this stuff. IF you wanna wait for that. anywho all the info-dumping lore under the cut:
okay SO. i have all of the positions for the main two schools AND all the other schools charles/sorrow played. i will just post this for now but if you want other shit (ages and why i chose them, explanations on the positions, all the easter eggs, why i chose the school names, all the minor school MASCOTS bc the devil works hard but i work harder, etc. whatever you want i will never stop talking ab this fic) pls let me know.
ANYWAY. main cast:
and minor cast:
as for who went on what team - i built the Main Friend Groups first (spencer/damien/shayne/alex and tommy/keith/chanse), then built the cheetahs (bc i knew this was gonna be spencer's pov), and then the pirates!!
i knew i wanted shayne as like... spencer's confidant, his right hand man, etc. so he was the basis. and where shayne goes (and where my relationships/dynamics developed), damien goes. and alex was ORIGINALLY going to be the only person spencer could stand from the other team but. things got moved around and yk i love the games pod squad. so that was the core of that!!
after that, i also decided who i wanted to be in tommy's lil friend group. i Knew i wanted keith there - underrated duo tbqh. i also put him there as a parallel / equal to damien, the two who tried their best to bridge the teams together. keith is a Bitch but he's also a people person so he just made sense to me for the pirates. the pirates... i could only describe their energy as cunty. like they're all assholes in the opposite way of the cheetahs. the cheetahs are fight first ask questions later, and the pirates are gonna study you and then deconstruct all of your insecurities to cut you down. so very keith to me !
chanse was also included bc 1. that is his energy come on, and 2. he's. he's tommy but again. like joven is to tommy as tommy is to chanse. like obviously he's different but he's there to parallel that relationship. that's his best friend, his pseudo older brother, his mentor!! chanse is THE number one tommy bowe defender. period.
okay so onto the cheetahs. i knew i wanted to feature..... whatever patrick and jeremy have going on. i also thought they had pretty contrasting personalities to the four i was starting with. (jeremy in particular became... smth so personal. iwks!jeremy is his own entity. i am OBSESSED with him you guys have no idea. thats my lil best friend i wanna keep him on a shelf.) then i was like 'ykw they need. a third buddy who is so tired of their shit and yet has nowhere else to go.' my apologies to ify bc he has to suffer <3 he's so himbo trapped as the third wheel coded okay and someone has to be there for alex next year !
i started assigning positions next. and i decided i wanted spencer as a midfielder and he needed like. a partner. an equivalent. and i ended up going with brennan bc that just made so much sense to me. it needed to be someone spencer trusts, someone who he could communicate with in silence. brennan may be quiet but like he's a killer. i also just wanted some more people spencer's close with - like rock, who he's worked with like forever. rock is also just. the most sane insane person to me. like his sense of humor is fucking crazy but also if he thinks you're being dumb he WILL tell you to stfu.
tim also kind of falls into this 'people spencer gets along with' category, but honestly. this was pure selfishness. i just love tim. the bit where he didn't speak the entire time gave ME personally a really good chuckle. he's an icon and also as someone who played defense/goalie, i was biased choosing my defense/goalies. and i think tim is just such a good pick for goalie there i said it thats my guy. marcus however was pure selfishness. i needed a silly lil freshman. i chose my bud marcus. he's one of my fave Background characters in this fic because everyone's like "well........... after what happened Last Year.........." and marcus is like haha! so true! what happened :) like there's not a clue in his fucking head he just loves his captain and i love HIM for that
and then the pirates were a combo of Who Was Left and who i wanted to feature. i liked this idea of aguilar as a mythic mean bitch who's always lurking. garrett of course had to get a shoutout (my beloved goalie <3<3<3 imagine how HE FEELS letting in that final goal rn huh). and shoutout to all the guys i didn't really cover but who i think about all the time - luke being a dry humored asshole, duran banging his head against the wall, josh and peter So Scared of the atmosphere but happy to be a part of something. i love them all their dynamic is also funny to me in my brain where it lives <3
ty so so much for giving me an excuse to lore dump i adore you <3<3<3
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slumber party kissing
synopsis: after a bachelorette party, you and phoenix have a sleepover.
pairing: natasha trace x fem!reader (c/s: comet)
warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni, explicit smut (oral sex, fingering, praise, condescension, phoenix has dom vibes), alcohol consumption, and language. (wc: 1.8K)
note: you can definitely read this as a standalone, but it's a direct prequel to supernova 💖 listen to naked in manhattan and red wine supernova by chappell roan for the vibes!
a huge shoutout to @sometimesanalice who mentioned a prequel back when i posted supernova and is the only reason i ever started writing this. tagging a few people who might be interested: @theharddeck @sebsxphia @sylviebell @callsignspark @lewmagoo @roosterbruiser @sushiwriterhere
You're a little drunk.
Margarita drunk, which is your sluttiest kind, personally.
You probably wouldn't have been so bold, so clumsily forward otherwise. You wouldn't gone about it a different way, one with less potential to publicly embarrass you.
"How big is your bed?"
A small smirk dances on her pink lips as Phoenix regards you, glowing pink in the magenta lights.
She wipes a lipstick print from the mouth of her own margarita glass. Sugar catches on her fingers, and with a quick and efficient swipe of her tongue, she licks them clean.
Leaning against the bar, Phoenix has to raise her voice to be heard over the music. "Why're you asking?"
You lean on her, dipping your chin over the elegant slope of her shoulder, and Phoenix holds your weight without question.
You slowly blink up at her from under long and dark lashes, jet black.
(You're wearing a new mascara, a waterproof one that promised you sensational lashes through a long night's worth of blood, sweat, tears, and whatever other bodily fluids might make an appearance at a multi-hour bachelorette party.)
"I dunno if I can make it home. Can I sleep over?"
You're being a little bit dramatic, probably a little whiney in all honestly. You could definitely go home. You just don't want to go home alone.
Her brow quirks, cool and calm and frustratingly unreadable. "We live on the same floor, Comet, I can walk you back."
A small pout forms on your lips, bottom lip jutted out and glossy.
"Payback called me with a wedding emergency when I was doing m' laundry..."
Which hadn't been an emergency at all, Payback had just wanted you to back him up on putting a song from The Godfather on the DJ's mix. You'd sided with the bride.
(Any sane person who'd already bought a dress for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding and didn't want to be un-invited would.)
"...and when I get back, I won't have any sheets on my bed."
She laughs. A low and sweet sound. "How about I come over and put your sheets on for you? We could..."
Phoenix is interrupted when the Maid of Honor waves at you both and cups her hands around her mouth and yells, "Uber'll be here in 10. Ten minutes!"
She forms a 1 and a 0 with her fingers, and when Phoenix nods, vanishes in a sea of pink lights and reflective disco balls and bodies.
You're disappointed but do your best not to look too bummed.
How long is 10 minutes, really?
You could stay longer, could find someone else.
Someone who'll dance against your back and kiss your neck and go home with you. Someone who isn't your colleague and friend. Someone who is more interested than Phoenix seems to be.
"You ready?" Phoenix asks, signing her receipt and yours in an illegible flourish. She pushes them back across the damp surface of the counter.
"Ready for what?"
You're so sure Phoenix is dodging your – admittedly, not your best –advance.
Then, Phoenix cups your nape, gentle but firm, and smiles.
You realize that maybe Phoenix hadn't been side stepping your advance at all.
Her dark eyes gleam in the pink and purple as Phoenix leans in close, breath warm against your ear, voice husky. "For our sleepover, of course."
You almost drop your keys at least three times in your effort to unlock the door as Phoenix presses kiss after kiss against your hummingbird pulse.
You push the unlocked door open, impatient, and Phoenix follows after you with a giggle and with a heated look in her eyes, pushes you back against the metal.
Her canine teeth brush against the side of your neck, and you shiver, letting your eyes flutter closed.
"So sweet," Phoenix murmurs, nipping the heated skin once and then again. "Are you sweet all over, angel?"
Angel. You might actually die.
You almost choke on your own saliva, but Phoenix spares you the embarrassment of a fumbled answer and grasps your chin between her pointer and index and kisses you, deep and searching and wanting kiss.
You're a little breathless on the other side, grasping at Phoenix's slender shoulders for balance, for some steadiness.
"You're sweet here," Phoenix muses, brushing the pad of her thumb across your swollen lips, dipping inside your mouth and running it over the sharp edge of your incisor.
You can't help yourself.
You suck her finger deeper into your mouth, running your tongue over the sugar granules and lime that linger on her skin.
She looks at you with such satisfaction, so pleased, like Phoenix is unwrapping a present that she already knows will be exactly what she wanted.
Her wet thumb pulls from your mouth, and Phoenix eases her hand under the short hem of your dress and locates the damp spot in the center of your panties with ease. Presses down.
A half gasp rips from your lips, and Phoenix watches you with half-lidded eyes, lowering her smooth voice, rasping against your neck.
"Are you sweet here, I wonder?"
You should probably say something – anything. You're the one who made the first move here, after all, but hell, Phoenix is fucking mesmerizing. She has you in the palm of her goddamn hand.
Literally.
"So quiet," Phoenix observes. A smirk curls the corners of her mouth, like a ribbon. "Is that the good kind of quiet or the bad kind? You're not drunk, right?"
An emphatic shake of your head.
"Still want to do this?"
You nod. You nod so fucking hard.
Her smirk widens. "Use your words, angel, or I might not believe you."
"Good. Definitely good."
Her lips part as Phoenix smiles a smile as glittering as her eyeshadow. "Good."
She pulls on your hand, pulling you to the bedroom, but you stop short.
"Wait, Phoenix."
She pauses, looking at you over her shoulder, long, dark hair like a waterfall down her back.
"That wasn't a line earlier. I actually don't have any sheets on my bed right now."
She bursts out laughing.
On the clean sheets, Phoenix slides your dress up around your waist and looks at you.
Her own dress has already been shed, up and over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up in her blue panties and no bra.
"You're so..."
Words can't even describe what Phoenix is.
Radiant. Gorgeous. Ethereal.
She smiles, as if reading your mind, and moves to straddle your chest, knees denting the unwrinkled sheets on either side of your ribcage.
"So sweet," Phoenix says again. She kisses and licks at your neck, searching with her warm tongue for the spot that'll make you arch up into her hand, plucking at your nipple through your bra. "So pretty for me, angel."
A whined please slips from your lips, and Phoenix pauses, holding your arms down.
Holding your gaze, Phoenix bends to suck on your pebbled nipple, leaving a damp spot in the lace of your bra. A gasp punches from your lungs, which only makes you bend into her more, push up harder against her soft mouth.
"You're the one who invited me here, angel. Ask me."
Her knee slides between your legs as Phoenix blows a cool breath over your nipples and sucks them into her warm mouth again. You shiver and writhe underneath her.
"Ask me," Phoenix says again. An order. "Or I'll keep doing this – and only this – all night. Anyone ever made you come from this before?"
No, but Phoenix probably could.
Or Phoenix could hold you down and keep you right on the edge.
You actually don't hate the idea.
But right now, you need more.
"Can you...?"
"Can I...?" Phoenix urges. "Can I what?"
"Can you touch me? Please?"
Her expression softens, and Phoenix kisses you once more.
She settles between your legs with a concentrated expression, brows slightly wrinkled, and pulls your damp panties down your legs.
She sponges kisses on the freshly shaved skin of your legs, circling your ankles and pulling your closer with a gentle kiss behind your knee.
"Do you want me to touch you..." She brushes against your wetness with a bent knuckle in the lightest of touches. "...or taste you? Do you want to show me how sweet you can really be?"
That. You absolutely want that.
You find your voice and choke it out.
Smirking, Phoenix starts slow, all light licks and barely there kisses and content breaths and so damn sweet for me sighed against your cunt.
From there, Phoenix delves in deeper with longer open-mouthed kisses, spearing you with her tongue, with her fingers until within minutes, you're close.
So damn close.
She can feel you clench down and seize, can feel how close you are, and rather than ease back and slow down, rather than get you there at a slow and gentle pace, Phoenix pinches your clit between her knuckles, hard and merciless.
You go off like a firework, all over her mouth.
It's one of your most intense orgasms in recent memory and definitely the most intense one you've had with another person in a damn hot minute.
You damn near black out, vision whitening, ears ringing, writhing on the mattress as Phoenix holds you down and licks every drop of arousal from you.
A few minutes later, you come to, and Phoenix is leaning her head against your shaking leg with a smile.
"Have I killed you?"
Her gaze is warm with affection and languid satisfaction, like a house cat on a warm summer afternoon. She looks smug as hell.
You suck in a breath and wiggle your fingers.
You exhale a breathless laugh. "Jesus Christ, Phoenix. I'll get you back for that."
Her brows arches, elegant and mischievous. "Oh? I hope so."
You roll her onto her back on the mattress and lick into her mouth until Phoenix is moaning and gasping and coming so prettily all over your hand.
Nothing will cover the bruise behind your ear, and of course, Hangman clocks you right away on Monday morning.
"Nice hickey, Comet. You get some at the party?"
You're irritated enough to answer, which is a mistake because Hangman loves a reaction. Any reaction.
"None of your business."
His smirk is knowing. "You so did. Good for you. We know 'em?"
"Yeah..."
And Hangman's green eyes go wide with delight.
"Your mom flew in for the weekend. You should call her more."
Rooster howls with laughter as Hangman scowls.
And Bob observes from the back of the room.
He looks sidelong at Phoenix and quietly comments, "You weren't in your room on Sunday morning. I knocked."
Her expression is calm and blank, but Phoenix pauses. "Oh... I went for an early run on Sunday."
"An early run?" Bob asks.
She nods. "Yeah. Like 8-ish."
He'd definitely knocked before 8 – like 7:30 at the latest – but Bob doesn't push.
He nods, and Phoenix might look relieved.
Maverick’s arrival is the perfect distraction.
As Maverick begins his lecture, you look over your shoulder at Phoenix, chancing an oh-so-casual glance, and instead, find Bob Floyd already watching you with a peculiar, kind of curious expression. His blue eyes are wide and intense and searching.
You face forward again, cheeks warm.
note: i'm hoping to do a few more blurbs or short fics in the supernova verse because i'm in love with them 💖 also, oops i wrote most of this like 2 months ago
#fic: supernova#fic: natasha trace#phoenix x reader#natasha trace x reader#natasha trace x you#natasha trace smut#natasha trace fic
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...so wanna rant about Netflix Isaac for a few minutes ? :P
My calm and collected reaction when I read this ask.
I was just debating on how to write about Isaac and N!Isaac (or Abraham, as I prefer to call him). Unlike Hector and N!Hector (Caesar), where I could prove that the latter could have been like the former if not for terrible writing… I simply do not like Abraham. At all. The more I think about him, the more resentful I feel, which I know it’s not fair because 99% of my resentment comes from people shitting on Isaac to prop the guy. I honestly simply wanted to explain why Isaac is deeper than people give him credit for, and leave Abraham aside, since, as we all know, the dude has nearly nothing in common with his canon counterpart.
… but if you ask so nicely :)
So alright. I will primarily talk about my man Isaac, because I love him and he deserves more love; by doing so, I’ll also explain why there was zero need to turn Abraham into Diet Hector :)
Since this first part mainly focuses on the prequels, as a counterpart to Season 2, it’s better to start with the biggest misconception about Isaac, and what almost certainly lead to Abraham becoming what he became: his personality.
To give a summary of Isaac as most fans know him, he’s extremely flamboyant, theatrical, cruel, consumed by hatred, but also intelligent, strong and determined. He doesn’t appear much, but he steals the scene every time he does. He acts in theory as the rival, much like his predecessors Hugh and Maxim, but he’s far more antagonistic than either of them: he’s not a friend to be saved, he’s an enemy to be punished for his crimes. However, much like the other rivals, he’s strictly connected to the protagonist, and the story treats him as a victim in its more important moments.
Kou Sasakura, who was a hired writer, kept herself fairly close to the game: you can tell not only from the accurate Innocent Devils she drew, but because, well, there’s not much difference between her Isaac and the game one. He’s already dressed in his magnificent CoD outfit, he’s pretty much a dick to everyone who isn’t Dracula, he talks about troops of people dying with glee and boasts about embracing the “laws of heresy”: clearly, he has never been particularly sane to begin with. He’s an entertaining asshole, as he should be. That’s not to say he’s completely flat, though: there’s still plenty to say about this version.
Instead it’s Ayami Kojima, who worked directly on the characters (and clearly preferred Isaac), who wrote a mini-arc to actually show what the Curse did to him. And therefore, he starts off quite unlike one would expect. These posts explain how, in Kojima’s interpretation, a non-Cursed Isaac is an honorable warrior who respects Hector even in battle, cares about a fair fight, is just as compassionate towards his Innocent Devils as Hector is, and is even sensitive to his Lord’s plight. He also uses an elegant sword, rather than his iconic and brutal Chauve-Souris. This paints him as an even more tragic character, and gives weight to Julia’s words when she says that “[her] brother is in the venomous grip of the Curse”.
… but of course who even read Prelude to Revenge :^) certainly not our man Ellis :^)
Abraham has none of this. At the start of the series, he’s not charming, nor he has hidden depths. What you see is what you get: a stonefaced, serious, no-nonsense, contemplative man who hates humankind and trusts Dracula without question and beyond reason, the latter being literally the one thing that connects him to the name Isaac. He self-flagellates, which I can only assume it’s meant to reference Isaac’s BDSM aesthetic – Abraham even changes reasons for doing so between Season 2 (a self-focusing discipline, implied to be a result of the abuse he went through) and 3 (a religious practice), before dropping it completely.
On his own, he’s… fine, I just think he’s pretty dull because he has no quirks or anything that makes him stand out, but he didn’t irritate me as Alucard did. I enjoyed his utter trust in Dracula, which makes him far less approachable compared to the manipulable Caesar: notably, poor Godbrand didn’t even finish airing his grievances to him before getting swiftly killed, and never mentioned again. This establishes Abraham as being strong, efficient, fanatical, and even concerned for his Master’s mental wellbeing – no point in telling him what happened, right?
As someone who is presented as being Isaac, he irritates me: he feels scrubbed down, neutered, because Ellis or whoever was responsible for the personality change clearly thought there was nothing salvageable about Isaac, and removed everything that made him iconic save for the simpness. Well, they were wrong.
Isaac doesn’t get a childhood flashback like Hector, but we see the day he found Dracula’s castle, which tells us already his priorities. His past doesn’t really matter: his devotion to his Lord does. His blind loyalty is his defining characteristic.
Look at this little baby, so happy to have finally found a place that can welcome him and his little sister <3 he has no idea what fate has in store for him <3
But yes, Isaac’s very young age in this scene tells us a lot without actually showing us what he went through. Whatever happened to him broke him far more than Hector’s own traumatic childhood: poor kid can’t be older than thirteen, and he’s already bragging that he has turned his back against God.
In CoD, Julia says that she escaped from the witch hunts in Western Europe. We don’t know if she meant in adulthood or childhood. If the latter, then Isaac was probably involved as well.
We also see that he still cares about Julia, and he wants her to come with him. Sadly we don’t know what happened to her afterwards – if we go by their canonical ages, she’d be a very young child here – but she’ll be important later. Presumably, Dracula didn’t want to take in such a young, inexperienced witch, while Isaac’s more cursed powers could already be honed.
The other half of his flashback chapter in the MF manga sets up other important factors:
Isaac is learning to Forge Devils, but he has trouble with stabilizing them: Isaac is talented, but just not enough, and it’s not a surprise that being “stable” is what gives him the most trouble (we can infer Hector never had an issue with that, as he’s more levelheaded than his companion);
The Succubus taunted Isaac that he’d be surpassed by a new boy: this establishes his inferiority complex, and while this never comes fully into play in the same way it does for other rivals, the implication is that he always saw Hector as an adversary, and it bred even more animosity in his easily corruptible heart;
isaac is the gayest man in wallachia seriously have you seen how he looks at hector
So this is Isaac. What about Abraham?
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Since Isaac’s childhood is far less defined, Abraham had to get his own unique tragic past. Admittedly, not much to point out here: he used to be the slave of a priest who abused him (because CHURCH BAD), but nonetheless Abraham fell in love with his master, and when he confessed, he got punished for it. After killing him, Abraham spent his life on the run, hunted by other people who wanted to kill him and worse, until Dracula personally rescued him. I like how this, much like the MF flashback, paints Abraham as someone who has the tendency to cling to his masters no matter what; and while I prefer the idea of Hector and Isaac knocking on Dracula’s door, I don’t mind the man himself actually helping Abraham. Indeed, Dracula treating him like an outright friend ensures that Abraham will be 100% devoted to him. (if only Dracula’s good relationship with Abraham didn’t come at the cost of the two of them shitting on Caesar…)
Speaking of Caesar! You can’t talk about Isaac without mentioning his crush relationship with Hector! And how it was turned in NFCV :)
Sadly, both mangas give us meager crumbs of what the two thought of each other before Hector’s betrayal, and they diverge quite a bit.
Not much to say about what very little is shown by the PtR manga: Isaac comes off as friendly… or as friendly as he can be:
That power... Perhaps you can become even scarier and crueler than me…
The two even have something resembling a heart-to-heart conversation: Isaac more or less attempts to calm down Hector when he’s in the middle of a morality crisis, although by downplaying his grievances. If the two were friends, they weren’t close ones, or maybe their different moralities were already driving a wedge between them.
The MF manga emphasizes the resentment Isaac felt for Hector, “from the moment [they] first met”:
When he has the confirmation that Hector is alive and has hidden himself on holy grounds, Isaac is ecstatic to face him, so much that he kills his own underlings to go against Dracula’s express order to bring Hector back to him. He is that determined to not only prove his strength to his Lord, but most importantly to kill the traitor with his own hands.
Of course, things may not be as clear-cut as he pretends to be :) He even tried to spare Hector, allegedly in the name of their Lord, but who knows :)
Yeah, who knows.
And CoD itself, while sadly barely touches on Hector and Isaac’s former relationship, gives us another little gem:
I know that Julia has some kind of divination powers, but this doesn't seem like the kind of information she could garner from them. He told her, didn't he?
I was, as you can imagine, immensely disappointed that Abraham and Caesar’s relationship is barely on the level of “coworkers reluctantly forced to share a building”. Abraham’s lack of respect for Caesar is not endearing at all: he treats him with condescension, he insults him behind his back (and to Dracula’s face, who seems to agree with him, and yet again I must ask why did he choose someone he thinks he’s a complete idiot as a General), but he still has time to make a joke about kissing him which at this point comes off as even inappropriate. Caesar, on his part, seems to ignore his existence until Carmilla reminds him of the fact. Not only this complete lack of chemistry is utterly boring, and doesn’t take advantage of the potential differences between the two characters, but it becomes a characterization issue later on.
This all culminates in the fateful moment when Hector and Isaac fight right outside the Castle, freedom and loyalty clashing! And its NFCV equivalent, which has Caesar being dragged against his will into Carmilla’s assault of the castle, and Abraham being yeeted away by Dracula. Yeah, the two don’t fight at all. Because why have a compelling relationship in this show when you can rely on snarky one-liners.
The exact events of the fight differ between the two versions, but they hardly matter in the long run. What matter is that the two fought to the death, Hector emerged superior, and Isaac discovered to his immense horror that, without him and Hector guarding the castle, Trevor Belmont and the others managed to slay Dracula.
Both versions are heartwrenching.
Not only the Curse that Dracula cast upon his death already reached his Generals, but Isaac had a full mental breakdown. You can tell he’s blaming himself for not protecting his Lord, and laments that he has to live without him – Lord Dracula was everything to him, and now that he has failed him to this degree, what else has he to live for?
Why, Hector himself. He can blame him. He was the one who ran away, he was the reason Dracula had to send Isaac in his pursuit. Sure, the Belmont is the one who physically dealt the killing blow, but maybe, if Hector remained loyal, the two could have defeated him together. Even in CoD, Isaac doesn’t direct his fury at Trevor (in fact, in the Japanese version, he even compliments him), because Isaac’s main concern isn’t not him: it’s his former friend who turned his back on him and their Lord.
And what can I even say about this masterpiece from PtR?
I won't let you say that your rebellion has nothing to do with this! Had you cut off my head as well, I would not have seen this… Hector!
Isaac crawled back in shame using his broken sword as a cane, fully expecting to be punished by Dracula for once again proving how inferior he was to Hector. He did not expect to come back to this.
Not only Hector deliberately left Isaac alive, which comes off as a humiliation (interesting contraposition to the MF version, where it’s Isaac who grants Hector mercy in the name of Dracula – they will both regret their decision)… these pages really convey just how much Hector’s defection has taken away from Isaac. In one fell swoop, he has lost his beloved Lord, the only place he could call home, the closest thing he had to a friend, and the work of his lifetime. Is it any wonder that even in this version, he seems to regret that he has to live? Is it any wonder that he’d be fueled for three years with pure hatred for Hector?
In short, Isaac has every single understandable reason in the world for wanting Hector dead.
What’s Abraham’s reason?
First of all, Abraham is, technically speaking, also partially responsible for the fall of Dracula’s castle. While Isaac lost everything through no fault of his own (yes, he killed his underlings in the MF manga and that’s fucked up, but that did not influence the chain of events at all), Abraham was also roped by Caesar into asking Dracula to move the castle under Carmilla’s request. His first reason for agreeing was even “it will stop her from making mischief”, which is a nice way to say “Iook I just want her to shut the fuck up”. Agreeable, surely, but I feel less sorry for him.
But that’s not the issue. The issue is that the Hector vs. Isaac fight simply did not happen, because Caesar did not flee on his own (because he was prevented from having agency), so Abraham was sent away by Dracula when the assault started, out of concern for his soul (or because Dracula wanted to die in peace), and Abraham only knew that Trevor, Sypha, Alucard and the Styrian forces were attacking, not that Caesar was involved.
Thematically, I like that Abraham chose to die for Dracula, but Dracula denied him the choice. He’s a tool, and he’s not even allowed to die on his own terms – much like Isaac, who was forced to live. But I’m still not satisfied.
So, Abraham gave zero shits about Caesar, knew that Carmilla was bad news from the start (but still agreed to her idea), didn’t actually see how the battle ended, actually saw Trevor and the others storm in with his own eyes, and didn’t know that Caesar “betrayed” Dracula.
Why in the fuck is he so pissed at Caesar? What weight does his revenge plan have?
This is what happens when you shoehorn a plot point you read on the wiki without understanding the context. Abraham by all means should either blame himself, or blame Carmilla exclusively. His animosity makes far less sense, and I don’t feel as sorry for him.
On top of this, his loss doesn’t feel as severe. Yes, he was separated from his Lord/friend and the castle, but he still had his immense power (even his Forging knife; he didn’t even have to, for example, find himself another weapon while living vulnerable in the meantime), and he actually has lived in the desert before, meaning he knows how to move and what to do. He also is not afraid of travelling among humans, while Isaac couldn’t let himself be seen even if he wanted to (he looks very visibly “wrong” for the average Middle Age person, and that’s not including the possibility that he was known in Wallachia). He did not lose his entire life: there is simply a big obstacle in his way.
Before I move on, two interesting scenes to compare are the different versions of the Hector vs. Isaac fight, mostly for what the latter says.
In the PtR manga, Isaac seems to be genuinely resentful of how humankind treated him:
Were we known in the human world, we would be chased away with stones… A place where we can exist… a place to cling to… Where was it?!
This is fairly in line with what you would expect from him: humans hated him, so he hates human in return, and this is why he’s outraged that Hector would even dare to turn his back to their Lord.
But the MF version has a slightly different flavor:
I pointed out different times that Isaac seems to put more focus on how humans did not respect Dracula enough than how they were cruel towards Hector and him. And indeed, Isaac rarely if ever expresses outright misanthropic views, in the same way Dracula does. This is a more interesting approach, in my opinion: Isaac genuinely doesn’t care about mankind, he’s not motivated by spite against them, he’s only motivated by the love and gratitude he feels for the first creature who showed him respect. And if said creature orders him to slaughter humans, oh well.
I have already talked extensively about Isaac’s “tool” mentality, so I won’t repeat myself. Long story short, Isaac nearly dehumanizing himself and refusing to have his own agency outside of Lord Dracula acts as a contrast to Hector, whose main goal is to gain agency over his own life.
Needless to say, Abraham gets this only halfway through. Yes, he also starts the series believing to be Dracula’s tool. Unlike Isaac, though, he spends two season unable to shut up about how much he despises mankind and considers them the root of all evil and believes that by exterminating mankind the world will be full of love. His dialogue gets incredibly repetitive in no time flat. Abraham is not endearing: he's pretentious.
So I suppose it’s time to jump to the three years between CV3 and CoD/Season 3.
In short, my man Isaac is not coping well with the divorce :’D
This post by @the-crow-binary is a great breakdown of Isaac’s mental state in the MF manga. The Curse has taken a hold of him already, and he’s ranting, obsessed, shaking in fear and rage: an absolute mess.
Still better than how we find him in PtR:
Mmh… So you can make that kind of face… I've gotten a lot better too... How many times has the moon waxed and waned, I wonder? That’s a nice expression… I'm happy. Good pain is proof of life. I won't grant you the peace of death so easily: live, spit blood, and then…
Lord Dracula is with us!
As I have pointed out, in this version, Isaac rotted the entire time completely alone in the ruins of his old home, easy prey for the Curse. He had nowhere else to go, and apparently he didn’t consider to find his sister again. Anyone would have gone mad, even without Dracula's help.
(side note, I love love love how this manga justifies Isaac's iconic outfit by showing that Hector ruined it first, and then Isaac let it fall off his body, no longer in the conditions to care:
Hector broke Isaac's outfit. Hector broke Isaac's mind and heart. It's so interesting how Hector truly is the villain in Isaac's story <3)
And speaking of broken heart! I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this small detail of Isaac writing Hector's name on the sole of his boot. Whether you interpret it as a hex or him expressing twisted romantic feelings, one thing's for certain: Hector is at the forefront of Isaac's thoughts. I cannot stress enough how personal Isaac's revenge is, much like Hector's own revenge quest will be.
This is how we feel the weight of his devious plan to get revenge on the man who took everything away from him, by taking his hard-earned happiness away as well.
So how’s Abraham doing?
This is the part of the show where he turns from secondary antagonist to full protagonist and darling of the narrative.
Season 3 is where Abraham supposedly starts his super compelling character arc, moving away from being Dracula’s tool and giving himself a new purpose. Allegedly, his ingrained misanthropy gets constantly challenged by actually experiencing human kindness, although sadly the lessons don’t quite stick. On paper, this sounds very intriguing, not unlike Hector learning what love is thanks to Rosaly (hint hint). However, I find the execution laughable at best, and irritating at worst.
This is what Abraham does in this season. He decides that he wants a big army, which means killing humans. He travels. He meets a kind shopkeeper that gifts him a mirror that tells him where to go next. He’s stopped by guards because he has an army of demons: Abraham is sad that they’re not as kind as the previous person and kills them. He travels. He boards a ship with an intriguing captain, who manages to tell him that committing human genocide would deprive the world of happiness. He’s stopped by guards because he has an army of demons: Abraham is sad that they’re not as kind as the previous person and kills them. He travels. He talks with a philosopher demon who tells him that CHURCH BAD. He meets a woman that tells him where to go next. He kills a bunch of people and kills a magician.
This is… not really an arc. Abraham allegedly takes one step forward, and then immediately one step back. He doesn’t get better nor worse. He just talks a lot in the meantime pretending to be deep.
Now, I do like the scenes with the shopkeeper and the captain, those two are well written; I also like Miranda as a look on what Abraham could become if he gets consumed by despair, ironically acting as the Isaac to Abraham’s Hector (hint hint). But this scene, one of the most popular ones for Abraham, pisses me off.
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Abraham wants to travel with a giant army of demons in tow. The guards insist that he must turn back because, well, giant army of demons. This is literally the second time in a row that this happens, hence the famous “is this the definition of insanity?” quote. Oh, but not because Abraham is stupid in expecting that humans would move out for him, but because poor thing, he really had hopes that humans could be good, but no, they keep hurting him! By doing their job! Oh no, they are slightly aggressive to the dark wizard who can control demons, how awful of them!
Sure, Abraham is correct in saying that he literally can’t turn back because he’s at the harbor, and yes the guards had no chance against Abraham, but the way this scene is framed, we’re supposed to feel sorry that poor little Abraham got confirmation that all humans are stupid and evil after all, and really, is it any wonder that he snapped and killed them all?
This is what Isaac would do. Slaughtering a bunch of humans because they were “fucking rude” to him? It’s just as cartoonishly evil as Abraham fans accuse Isaac of being. Except that in his case, it would be clear that he’s batshit insane, and not in the philosophical way Abraham pretends to be.
Abraham ends Season 3 in the same place where he started, and I have no idea how he managed to become this popular.
Most insultingly, Abraham isn’t allowed to lose. Abraham isn’t allowed to be set back. In the season where every character suffers, is traumatized, or loses something (Caesar and Alucard being by far the worst victims), Abraham ends the season happily killing brainwashed people to then kill a generic magician to get to a magic mirror that would lead him directly to his destination, along with the army of demons that he created by killing people, after a lady he happened to meet told him about the existence of said mirror.
People in NFCV can smell magic? Well, I can smell favoritism.
But okay, he’s still a bad guy, right? I’m not meant to sympathize with him, right? I’m just in for the ride because he’s “cool”, right?
Enter CoD/Season 4.
You, who gave up your powers and became the lowest of the low, nothing but mere scum.
Sadly, CoD has a severe dearth of Isaac appearances, after the iconic first cutscene. He is as I described him in the beginning: an utter bastard. However, I appreciate his overall plan that sets up the whole plot.
There is a lot of speculation and holes-filling to do here (I suspect he had Death’s help, at least when it came to the Infinite Corridor part of the plan, but we have no proof), but the point is, he has all the means to inflict a most terrible punishment on Hector, by taking advantage of the Curse that he’s spreading and that consumed him, and also by taking advantage of Hector himself. The two knew each other well: Isaac knew that Hector would be unstoppable in his quest for revenge, to the point that he felt confident enough to spell out his plan, which is to guide Hector so that he can regain his cursed powers (even drawing schemes to explain how to Forge, which is hilarious when you think about it). What would Hector do anyway, give up? That’s not like him. Isaac knows this. The only part he omits is that he needs those immense powers not just to make their fateful match worth it, but to break the seal that prevents the castle from resurrecting. A very clever spin on the classic “get stronger so that our fight will be worth it” plan.
(contrast this well-thought out plan with Abraham getting everything he wants on a silver platter.)
We also get a cute moment where he retreats at the sight of Julia, almost as if he was afraid of hurting her, implying that he can feel more than smugness and rage.
Sadly, the end of his story is not a happy one. By the time he faces Hector like he wanted, his former friend is absolutely livid that he had been played like a fiddle… and more important, he regained all of his strength. Which was more than Isaac’s. Oops, that part wasn’t very well thought-out. But it’s not Hector who kills him: he saves himself from the Curse taking complete hold of him just in the nick of time. No, it’s Death, who decides to use the “other one” (even making fun of him in the process) to resurrect Dracula. Either the ritual or Hector slashing his possessed body to pieces puts an end to Isaac’s madness. Despite Julia’s best wishes, Isaac never rose from the darkness that consumed him. He constantly chose loyalty to Dracula and hatred, and that doomed him. Furthermore, his own name acted as an omen: much like the Biblical Isaac, he was set to be sacrificed in the name of the closest thing to a God he worshipped.
As for Abraham… at this point in his arc, it’s pointless to compare him to Isaac, because he has officially turned into Hector. By reversing Isaac’s downfall, the writers accidentally recreated Hector’s character arc of finding agency for himself, killing the person responsible for his pain (well, he wants to, but Carmilla in true #girlboss fashion peaces out on her own terms), and then moving on from Dracula, accepting to live in full. It’s. It’s Hector. Except worse.
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What else can I say? Abraham got his revelation off screen, during a time-skip: now he wants to create, to do good in the world like when he killed the evil magician. He sets out to invade Styria to kill Caesar, but then changes his mind at the last second, and even tells him to not go with his plan of resurrecting Dracula. No internal struggle, just a ton of words. No mention of all the people he has gleefully killed for petty reasons. No remorse at all. Not an obstacle he had to overcome. Not even an ounce of self-loathing that at least made Hector more sympathetic. Abraham fails at being a good reinterpretation of Isaac, and fails at being an interesting anti-hero with a solid journey.
To be clear, I'm not saying he should have died like Isaac. Again, at this point I accept that he became Hector. But his happiness simply doesn't feel earned. He got what he wanted after a fairly small loss (Dracula died, sure, but he never got confirmation for that), and he had his character development offscreen. His narrative is a rushed version of what Hector was allowed to be through two mangas and a game, and yet he's the one hailed as the best character of all time.
Just to cap it off, I can’t help but complain about how dull and forgettable Abraham’s design is. He’s literally just a man who walked into the set and stole Isaac’s full Devil Forgemaster outfit. There is no reason for him to be associated with red (his magic), since the Red Oni Blue Oni dynamic with Caesar has been lost. His tattoos do not convey anything, and we rarely see them in full anyway. Also why does he have a different crest on his back???? IT'S A UNIFORM! It drives me mad! At least try to understand the source material for fuck's sake!
Isaac is iconic. He’s immediately recognizable in the Castlevania cast, but still fitting in thanks to key elements. He doesn’t look fully human, with his bright red hair and yellowish eyes: he doesn’t have the typical Kojima pretty face, but he has more distinguishable features such as a big nose: the tattoos tell a whole story about him and it’s fun to imagine what they symbolize – high pain tolerance? A desire to defile his own body to spite God? Some arcane symbol, the result of a ritual? And then there’s the Devil Forgemaster crest forever embedded in his back, representing his full devotion and the fate he could not escape from. He truly looks like everything Hector isn't.
This post got long. And again, I didn't even care to talk about Abraham, because I don't like him one bit and because I love Isaac independently from this overhyped character. But hey, you asked, and I ranted with great pleasure :P
also have this absolute banger
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does abraham have a sick ass theme? yeah didn't think so
#castlevania#curse of darkness#isaac laforeze#anti netflixvania#long post#like really long#like really fucking long#oh my god it took me a whole ass day#and i had to watch nfcv clips for this it did not calm me down at all#at least i got to explain why i love isaac so much in a convenient masterpost
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Congrats again on the milestone!!! For prompt requests how about OoT Zelink cuddling?
Again, you think I won’t make this angsty?
Thank you! Hope you enjoy- first time writing oot! This is offered up to @zeldaelmo who wrote one of the most beautiful fics I’ve ever read - Someone That I Used to Know which I read to actually try and prepare for this request. Having never written OoT and many years gone by since I last played the game all the way through, I wanted to lean on an author I trust to help get me get in the right headspace for OoT. I remember seeing this fic during zelink week last year and it had long waited in my Ao3 queue.
And when I say writer I trust, I mean because I have such a soft spot for the literal children in OoT and how traumatic their lives are...it is hard for a writer to capture all that. Cut to Zelmo…this fic is beautiful. A work that reminds me WHY I read fan fiction. Zelmo does such an amazing job honoring these characters and a thoughtful handling of their healing. I hope you don’t mind Zelmo-this is meant to be a heavily influenced unofficial prequel scene of sorts, 5 years before the events of Somebody That I Used to Know. What got her started on her journey to step away from the throne and find Link? Here's what I think....
Word Count: 418
(I teased it down from 650+ because I'm trying to be better about sticking to the word limit.)
Zelda jolts upright in her bed. It's happened so many times, she shouldn’t be this rattled, but these dreams shatter any piece of her that dares to begin healing. It's like someone reaches inside her and shakes her soul.
A reminder, that after all these years, she is inescapably broken.
She’s come to realize her dreams have deeper roots; that she’s become a bit like the Lost Woods herself. When she closes her eyes, she sees the same scenes, over and over again, snapshots of lives that are hers but not, pathways and turns she doesn’t remember taking, only to wake up in a swirl of misty sleep, transported back into the misery of now. Twenty-five years since they saved Hyrule. Twenty-five years since she gave him the Ocarina and said goodbye.
He left with a promise she still waits for him to keep. Twenty-five years.
She’d seen him since, but only in her dreams—no, remember they are visions, she tells herself, brushing her fingers across the dagger tucked into her garter.
But this had been different. It is why her heart thunders still, untamed by the cool steel that's become an anchor in her panic. In the vision, her fingers, ungloved and weathered, weaved into golden hair and pushed his face back from hers. And he, fatigued by age and trial, scarred like she’d never seen—close, impossibly close—smiled at her. And then he hugs her, his body fully pressed against hers, hands splayed across her back. All of him. He holds her for a long moment and then he whispers:
Maybe time is finally on our side,
But it can’t be a vision. It can’t be a memory. Goddesses, was she finally dreaming again? Could she drop back into that moment if she closed her eyes now?
It feels too real to be fantasy, but again, every path in the Lost Woods looks like the right one.
She gets a crazy swirl of spirit, energy she hasn’t felt in, well, twenty-five years, and glances down at the mark of Wisdom burned into her hand. In five years her son will be of age. She could relinquish the throne, disappear over the hills...only if...
Zelda throws her sheets off and scrambles over to her mirror. She finds an angle where she can see her shadow in the moonlight. It shifts for a second, the shoulders broader, a flash of red where her eyes should be. Sheik’s still there. After all this time.
And he’s been waiting.
#bahbahhhwrites#bahabhahh300#with a fic rec#oot zelink#oot zelda#oot link#ocarina of time#loz ocarina of time#legend of zelda#zelda#loz#loz fanfiction
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Honor Bound 6 - 22
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.
Masterlist
AO3
Contents: awkward post-breakup situations, awkward relationship dynamics in general, past implied noncon, past death of a family member, messy handling of grief, navigation of breakups in poly relationships, nonexplicit discussion of sex, past attempted murder
I have not updated this story in over a year. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with it
~
The leaves crunched on the path under Sam’s feet as they made their way towards the center of town. They tried to focus on the trees that flanked them on either side, their crowns shivering in the slight breeze. They tried to keep their attention on how the crisp air felt on their cheeks, rustling through their hair, pressing against their jacket. They tilted their head back and drew in a deep breath, doing their best not to think.
They tried hard not to think about Isaac and Gavin, who had both looked at Sam – Gavin with uncertainty, and Isaac with naked anger – as they were leaving. They tried not to think about Gray, who had dark circles under their eyes and exhaustion in every line of their face as they tried to hold the shattered fragments of the family together.
And they tried not to think about the cell phone in their back pocket, which Gray had given them for the walk into town.
Sam hadn’t wanted to let themself hope for a response when they’d sent the message earlier today:
Hey, it’s Sam. Did Edrissa still want to chat?
They had tried to tell themself not to expect a response, at least, not for a couple days – not until she could come up with some kind of excuse for why she couldn’t see them. It had been her to reach out first, but Sam had felt a nagging anxiety, a nauseous thrum in their stomach telling them that she had changed her mind. Two days had passed since Vera first reached out, telling Gray that Edrissa wanted to talk to Sam, and they hadn’t received an answer until this afternoon, so that really hadn’t seemed impossible.
Then there was the possibility that Sam had considered, even as the thought ached in their heart: Maybe Edrissa had left Laporte entirely, and Tori and Vera just hadn’t told the others yet.
Sam pulled the phone out of their pocket and opened the messages. They chewed the inside of their cheek as they stared at her response, the one they’d gotten only twenty minutes earlier and had all but jumped off the couch to answer:
It’s Edrissa. Yes, please. Meet me at the general store? They have pies, we could share one if you want.
Sure, sounds good. Meet you there in 20?
Yes, please.
Their foot caught on an uneven patch of ground and they stumbled forward. The phone nearly dropped from their hand. Tight laughter swelled in their chest, pushing at the inside of their ribs, as they glanced around. There wasn’t a soul around, just trees and sunlight and the gentle song of birds.
Sam’s throat tightened as they put the phone back in their pocket. They quickened their step and pushed out a shaky breath between their lips.
Why do we have to live so far away from the town center?
The fifteen-minute walk had never felt so long.
Still, a fifteen-minute walk to a town where people knew and might someday care about them was far better than a fifteen-minute drive to Burmingham, where they hardly knew anyone, and rarely even drove into town anyway. The trees thinned, and before them they could see almost the entirety of Laporte – all one block of it. General store, post office that doubled as a community gathering space, laundry, machinery and repair. Although, everyone who lived there understood that they all had to do more than just what the front of their store advertised, or what they had done for a living while trapped in the hell of the syndicate world. Here, everyone worked together to keep this little town of barely two hundred people running. And it all ran without the heavy-handed authority of someone like Schiester.
Sam pushed out a steadying breath and let their feet pull them towards the general store. They tried to ignore the fluttering in their stomach, even now, even after everything that had happened.
She might not even be there. She might still bail on me. Resentment prickled, and they hated the feeling. She was so ready to bail on me before.
If the walk into town felt like it took ages, the final few yards could have taken the blink of an eye. They swallowed the lump in their throat as they stood in front of the slightly warped wooden door, studying the fresh coat of forest green paint. Just go in. Come on, coward, just go inside. Another deep breath.
They pushed the door open. A bell tinkled overhead, and the comforting scent of grain and dried fruit washed over them. A woman stood behind the counter, giving Sam a friendly smile and a wave before her hand moved to her heavily pregnant belly. Sam only had a moment to take in the rows of canned and dried goods on the rows of shelves before they noticed Edrissa in the corner.
Their heart swelled with a painful throb. She was sitting at the only table in the store, next to a small display of pies that made Sam’s mouth water. Her hair was pulled back, a few short strands falling forward to frame her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Her hands were folded on the table in front of her, the knuckles white. Her shoulders were tense and pulled forward, and Sam felt their own shoulders rising in sympathy. She glanced up, meeting Sam’s eyes and giving them a hesitant smile.
Sam’s resentment melted, just a little. They shuffled forward and all but fell into the seat in front of her.
“Hey,” they murmured.
“Hey,” Edrissa said. A long silence drew out between them. Edrissa’s eyes flicked down and she stared at the table.
Sam chewed their lip. “So… I heard they had, uh, pie here.”
Edrissa shot up from her seat so quickly it startled Sam. “Yes. Um. Let me…” She stumbled towards the counter, where the shopkeeper gave her a warm smile. Edrissa murmured something to her, and both women made their way back to the pie display.
“This is Meredith,” Edrissa said absentmindedly. “Meredith, this is Sam, this is who I was, um…” She flushed crimson and stared at the floor.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sam,” Meredith said with a nod and a smile. “Are you interested in one of the pies?”
Sam’s eyebrows pulled together. “Um… sure, yes please,” they said as they glanced at the display. “Edrissa, want to, um… have some cherry pie?”
Edrissa’s lips quirked in a smile, her gaze still glued to the floor. “Sounds good,” she breathed.
Meredith nodded as she opened the display and took out one of the pies with a complicated-looking lattice crust. “Lovely. One of my favorites. My sister-in-law makes these, I swear she must put some magic in ‘em. If you’re alright eating right out of the tin, I’ll just fetch some forks.” She set the pie on the table in front of Sam.
“Yeah, sounds… sounds good,” Sam said, eyes still on Edrissa.
“Thank you Meredith,” Edrissa said as she took her seat in front of Sam. Her cheeks were finally returning to their normal shade.
Meredith returned with two forks. “Enjoy. Let me know if you need me to wrap up some leftovers… but if you kids finish the thing, just leave the tin!” She grinned down at both of them.
“Thanks Meredith,” Edrissa said, smiling up at the woman. “You’re the best.”
“You’re the delight, darlin’. And I’m hoping to get your linen in tomorrow. Sorry for the delays, you know how it’s been with… well. You know. The situation and all.” Meredith sighed and motioned her head in the general direction of Crayton.
“Mm hm.” Edrissa nodded. She glanced at Sam, then back up at Meredith.
Meredith snorted. “Listen to me. I could chat with you all day, you’re such a dear. Well, you just come get me when you need something. I’ll be, ah, in the back. Can’t hear much back there.” She gave Edrissa a conspiratorial wink that Sam couldn’t have missed. She turned and waddled away, chuckling under her breath.
When Edrissa raised her to Sam again, her lips were twisted in a look of undeniable guilt.
Sam picked up the fork and carefully excavated a bite from the very center of the pie. “So,” they said conversationally. “Who does she think I am?” They raised the bite to their lips. Flavor exploded on their tongue, tart and sweet and tasting of summer. Their eyes went wide and they quickly went for a second bite. “Why didn’t we move here sooner?” they muttered.
“Uh…” Edrissa’s voice wavered. “She thinks you’re someone I like. A lot.” She gathered a small bite of pie on her fork and raised it to her lips.
Sam’s mouth twisted. “So… she thinks this is a date.”
Edrissa froze. “Um… maybe. And it’s… it’s not…?”
A feeling Sam didn’t recognize clutched his chest. They put down the fork and leaned back, crossing their arms. “No,” they croaked. “It’s not.”
Edrissa’s face fell.
“Does that lady know about Zachariah?” Sam said, their voice gaining strength.
Edrissa stared at the table as she set down her own fork. “N-no,” she whispered. “Um, how… h-how is he?”
You could ask him that yourself, if you still cared.
Sam swallowed down the uncharitable thought.
“He’s good,” they said brusquely. Then, “He’s… okay. He’s relieved Gavin’s safe, and Schiester’s dead. It’s been… rough on him, these past few weeks.”
Edrissa tilted her head, plaintively looking up at Sam beneath her lashes. “It could have been better,” she murmured, almost too quietly to hear. “If he’d… if he’d come with me, he could have—”
“Stop,” Sam said, their left hand clenching around their right. “Please. Stop. I didn’t come here to have this argument with you again. And for god’s sake, it doesn’t even… matter anymore. Schiester’s dead. The threat is dead. And as far as I can see, the only person still threatening people in my family is you.”
The words were out before Sam could stop them. They regretted them as soon as they passed their lips. Edrissa recoiled as if Sam had raised their hand to slap her.
Sam bowed their head. “I’m sorry,” they said, jaw tight. “That’s… not what I meant to say.” When they raised their head again, Edrissa looked ready to collapse. She was cringing back in her chair, eyes swimming with tears, hugging herself like she was freezing. Her lower lip trembled as she looked at Sam. Helplessly, she shrugged her shoulders and let them fall again.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
By dumping me? Or calling me a child? Or killing Gavin after everything he’s done for us? For you?
Again, Sam bit back the thoughts. They burned on their tongue, coated their throat. The unspoken words left them feeling sick with injustice and hurt. They opened their mouth to speak.
Edrissa beat them to it. “You don’t know what it was like,” she breathed. “With… with him. With Sir. And… I understand that… you think people change—”
“They do change—”
“—it was two years. W-with Sir. With someone like Gavin Stormbeck, or his father. Well…” Edrissa gave a shaky shrug. “Closer to his father, sounds like. So you don’t understand… what it’s like to have to… live with someone like that. To live with someone just like the person who killed your brother in front of your face.”
Sam’s hackles raised. “I’m a goddamn orphan because of the syndicates—”
Edrissa slapped her hands on the table. “So is half the fucking world, Sam,” she snarled. “You don’t remember your parents. I watched my brother die in front of me as th-they dragged m-me away to…” Edrissa’s breath hitched, and her hands curled into fists on the table. “I’m not… no. I’m not doing this. I’m not doing this with you, I’m not…” She pushed out a gusty breath. “This isn’t what I wanted to do.”
“Then what is?” Sam said through their teeth, ready to stand up and walk out that second.
Edrissa tore her hands through her hair, pulling more strands out of the clip that held it back. She leaned her elbows on the table, holding her head, and screwed up her face. “I wanted…” Her voice broke. She rocked her whole body forward and back, banging her elbows lightly on the table. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go,” she said softly.
Sam’s mouth twisted as they looked at her. They didn’t want to, but… something in their heart softened, even as they bristled from her barb about their parents. They reached out their left hand and placed it on the table, palm up. An invitation, not a demand. Nothing had ever been a demand, with them.
Her lips quivered as she glanced at their hand, and back at them. Her hand shook as she placed it gently into theirs. They squeezed. She squeezed back. Then they let go and tucked their hand back in her lap. The hope that had glimmered briefly in her eyes faded again.
“So,” Sam said as they took up their fork again and scooped up another bite of pie. “What did you want to talk about?”
Edrissa watched them as they took the bite and chewed slowly, savoring the pop of cherries, the sweetness of the sugar. After they swallowed, they took another bite. Edrissa still hadn’t eaten anything.
Finally, she said, “I’m glad Zachariah is doing okay.” She ducked her head and ate the bite that had been sitting on her fork. “Mmm. Good pie. So are you still… um…” She cleared her throat. “Do you…?”
“Are we still… together?” Sam said, trying for casualness. They speared another bite.
“…yes,” Edrissa said. She was holding perfectly still, like a frightened deer that had somehow managed to find its way into a general store.
Sam pushed out a slow breath. “Yeah,” they said, and took another bite. “Yeah, we’re still… hanging out, and… together.”
“Are you… sleeping together?” Edrissa whispered.
Sam raised his gaze to hers. She was looking at them pleadingly, but Sam felt like pleading with her, too. Please, they thought. You don’t actually want to know. You know it won’t help. Still, she held their gaze, her empty fork held in trembling fingers.
“Yeah,” they said, finally. “Yeah, we are.”
She let out a breath, as if Sam had confirmed something she had long suspected and feared. She nodded solemnly. “I thought so,” she murmured.
There was nothing Sam could say. Nothing at all could make this better.
Edrissa blinked back tears and nodded again. “Okay,” she said, voice twisted and choked.
Guilt overwhelmed Sam. They couldn’t stop the words from coming out of their mouth: “You broke up with me,” they said flatly.
“Yeah, I know,” Edrissa said, swiping at her eyes. “I know that. I just…” She laughed, although it sounded suspiciously like a sob. “I just… really messed up all around.”
“I mean, Gavin forgives you,” Sam said with a tight smile, trying for levity. The words fell flat.
“Well, Gavin’s an idiot,” Edrissa grumbled. She aggressively scooped up another bite of pie.
“Yeah,” Sam said with a real laugh. “A bit, yeah.” They ate another bite. Then another. The pie was so good, and about a third of it was gone. Edrissa was eating with a bit more gusto now, too.
The bell tinkled overhead as another customer entered the store. Meredith came to the counter from the back room, and the two of them struck up a conversation. From across the store, it sounded like they were talking about pigs. Sam hadn’t seen any pigs around town, but perhaps there was a farm further away from the town center? Or maybe these were pigs from another town altogether. Either way, Sam was happy to let their mind wander to something other than the tightness in Edrissa’s shoulders, and the pain in her eyes. After a while, the customer purchased a canvas sack of flour and ten cans of crushed tomatoes with peeling labels. Flour from up north, then, and tomatoes stolen from syndicate supply lines. Then the customer left, with only a glance at Sam and Edrissa in the corner.
After a long silence, Edrissa spoke again. “So… do you think we… could ever be… you know…?”
Sam’s eyes fell closed. They rubbed the bridge of their nose and looked at Edrissa again. “Together? Or… friends?”
Hurt flashed in Edrissa’s eyes. “Friends. I know you’d never want to be… with me. Again. After what I did.”
Sam’s lips pursed. “You really don’t get the idea of forgiveness, do you?” They lowered their voice to soften the blow of their words.
Edrissa leaned back. “I tried to kill Gavin,” she said, lip curling. “That’s not something you forgive. And that’s not even the first time I—” Her eyes widened, and her mouth snapped shut.
A chill shivered down Sam’s back. “That’s not… wait… how many times have you…? Edrissa, what?”
“No,” Edrissa said, shaking, hands braced on the table. “No, I’m not… I need to go. I have to—” She shoved herself to her feet.
“Edrissa, stop,” Sam snapped. Edrissa froze where she stood. “For shit’s sake, stop. Just stop. Will you… stop deciding how I feel about shit that you did for two seconds?”
Edrissa’s ice blue eyes were locked on Sam, wide and terrified, but she stayed. For a few more seconds, at least. Sam wet their lips. “Just wait, okay? Let’s just talk. You wanted to talk, right? I already know you tried to kill Gavin. That’s not a secret. And you’re already… forgiven… for that, right?” The word came out strained, but it still came out. “So let’s just talk. Please?”
Edrissa thudded back into her seat like a sack of potatoes. She nodded, shaking.
“Okay.” Sam let out a breath, which turned into a chuckle. They began to giggle uncontrollably, all the tension leaving their body in a gale of laughter as Edrissa watched, a look of confusion only fueling Sam’s hysterics. “Now,” Sam said, clutching their stomach and heaving for air. “How m-many goddamn times have you tried to kill Gavin?”
Continued here
@womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog , @whatwhumpcomments, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @whumps-the-word, @justplainwhump, @finder-of-rings, @inky-whump, @orchidscript, @inkyinsanity, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pretty-face-breaker, @pebbledriscoll, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @endless-whump, @grizzlie70, @oops-its-whump, @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather , @butwhatifyouwrite, @carnagecardinal
#honor bound 6#sorry for taking so long#it was a season of rest#breakups#relationship dynamics#implied past noncon#implied past death#grief#polyamory#discussion of sex#past attempted murder#Sam/Edrissa
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