#starting answering it. then dinner began without warning and I was forced to cast aside my device

[bookwyrminspiration]

also thoughts on janel's gender: obviously it is not perfect and sucks how so many people perceive her as a woman i wish there was more ease with the perception of her as a man who is female, BUT cool thing- although kihrin is still figuring it out i love how he has taken it in stride. like one of few perspectives where you get to hear them ACTUALLY muse about janel's gender a bit rather than everyone referring to her as daughter, wife, woman, Something To Protect. and shaking hands with u as another genderqueer person fr. the thing of gender in jorat seems so interesting to expand on though even with it's flaws i am chewing on it like one of those honey straws? like if anyone can be a mare or stallion then it is really more about the distribution of respect and the roles that people have in a culture, so it made a lot of sense for her to--obviously she kind of had to but--to accept her role as a woman with the marakori because of the matriarchal society, whereas with people who actually understand the weight of what she is she's much less lenient (also does she think teraeth knows?? is it the memory of her life as elana?? is it just the disrespect that bothers her??? obviously other things too he is more of a punching bag but where's the irritation Coming From). where do the geldings fit into all this? how do they function as a third gender? do they function as a third gender or is it just the catch-all in the way that nonbinary is? *holding up mic to random gelding character in the far background* and what is it like to be a gelding in jorat my good sir

This reminds me, the chorus of dragons wiki (which is not maintained or up to date, it stops like mid book 2 and was worked on by like one person) has Janel listed as a woman. I should do something about that. Maybe I should offer my services to the wiki, whatever that would entail

I have a mutual who reblogged one of the asks you sent me talking about Jorat's gender and how it would've been nice to see more of it (I swear they said something even though I can't find that rn, I'm certain they said something). We spend so much time outside of Jorat in the story without much contact with any Joratese (it's mainly Janel with some Dorna), so we don't get to see their beliefs in action as a community. Instead we see Janel having problems being properly viewed as a female man in the rest of the world, as people presume her a woman everywhere. Which is realistic to what she would encounter leaving her country and going places with very different beliefs, it just would've been fun to see more of Jorat and a widespread disconnect of gender and sex.

But I do appreciate Kihrin for actually taking the time to think about it. He doesn't brush her off, he's like wow that's very different from what I was taught and a lot to wrap my head around. it'll take some time to get used to, but I'll put in the time and be conscious of my perception of her even though I won't be perfect about it. Because shaking your hand as a genderqueer person, that's all I want! I don't need you to be perfect about it, I need you to put in the effort and just try. and he does!

Poor teraeth though, he would try if someone would just tell him what's going on. He just doesn't understand because you haven't TOLD him Janel. He's not treating you with the respect you believe you deserve because you haven't told him how your culture works and he wasn't raised in it! He doesn't know you see his actions as disrespectful he is instead trying very very hard to woo you and be nice. Shaking them all please communicate. Janel you understand some people don't understand you're not a woman, you spent four years living in Yor as a "woman"--did that grate and now your touchier about it now that you're out? Or is it just because this is Teraeth? A lot happened in these books I haven't reread them yet the specifics are eluding me, I can't recall what was said about it

Anyway, the geldings! Wish we could've met one, but alas, we weren't in Jorat for long enough and we don't have many Joratese characters. My understanding is it's a catch-all term? Though I am curious what identifies someone as a gelding, because it seems like people in Jorat can tell whether you're a mare or a stallion based on their perception of you and your actions. So are there gelding-specific actions, or are they a mix of mare and stallion actions? Holding a mic up to the entire country of Jorat

#a chorus of dragons #quil's queries #soryasongsaa #if this ask is answered weird it's because there was literally like a four hour break part way through #starting answering it. then dinner began without warning and I was forced to cast aside my device #anyway! no surprise the queers love jorat #i want more of it pretty please. jenn. jenn can we visit jorat again please #we did not spend enough time there

[ajbwasntwriting]

To Serve and Protect (Bucky Barnes x Police!Fem!Reader)

the twd obsession has been interrupted since I’ve started watch TFATWS and have binged bucky fics like I was 15.

Summery: - Reader is an accomplished New York officer but an old case comes back in the shape of a super soldier in need of aid.

Warnings: - Light Spoilers for TFATWS, Cursing, mentions of Human Trafficking, flirty Bucky(kind of I tried)

You had just received your second medal of honor before the blip had occurred. When you came back, you were nearly arrested for breaking into what you had known as your apartment. Luckily, the situation was under control quickly. You had family just outside the city who were willing to support you until you got back on your feet but it still felt like a kick in the gut that your home was gone and you now had to learn a bunch of new skills to do with being a cop. Most of your friends had either died during the five years or had to move out of New York, and those who remained had moved on and didn’t seem to have time for you in their lives.

At least a few of your favourite places had stayed open, including what you thought was the best pizza joint in the state. You got dinner here most nights because it hadn’t changed. The tables still wobbled, the neon sign still buzzed from overuse, and Louis the owner still kept a couple slices of your favorite pie in the back for you.

“Please tell me the back booth is free” you sighed, taking the food from Louis.

“Long day, Detective?” Louis replied.

“New partner thinks I’m an idiot.” You mumble, taking a bite from the pie and burning your tongue.

“It’s clear,” Louis said sympathetically, nodding to the far side of the restaurant.

You slid into the small booth tucked out of the way, tucking into your pizza and soda. After your first slice you noticed a carving on the table. It was your initials plus A.S. equals epic. You smiled as you remembered your previous partner Aarush Sharma. You two had been friends since you joined the force and had come to this booth almost every break hour to fill up on pizza and terrible coffee.

“Detective L/N.” A gruff voice spoke to you. Judging by the shadow he casted over you, he was a big man.

“Look if your here to buy me off or intimidate me,” you snapped, “then you can fu-” you stopped short when you looked up. You recognised the man as James Buchanen Barnes instantly. “Oh,” you sighed with relief.

“You know me?” he asked you.

“Followed the Zemo case.” you explained. He visibly tensed at the mention of Zemo. You held up your hand to calm him. “I know you’ve been pardoned.” You suddenly remembered how your conversation with the Winter Soldier had begun “wait, how do you know me?”

“I need your help,” He spoke low, just so the two of you could hear. He slid opposite you in the booth, leaning forward on the table. “Two-thousand-fifteen, August seventh you filed a report on a human trafficking ring operating out of staten island.” You began eating your second slice of pizza as he talked. “You arrested the main perpetrators, with the exception of Donnie Morris and Frank Abara. You opened an investigation on them but it went cold two months later.” You nodded along to the story. “That’s because-”

“They’re Hydra? Real names Robert Bern and Josh Smith? And the trafficking was for human experimentation?” you interrupted him. He stared at you, just about concealing his surprise. “I was a good cop.” you finished off your pizza, wiping your mouth and looking away in shame. “Was.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“They threatened me.” You patted the flour off your hands and picked up your soda. “And when that didn’t work, they told my friends to stop me else their family would be hurt, so.” you slurped on your soda and stared back at him.

His piercing blue eyes were reading you like a book, pulling apart your disgust at never catching them, and trying to figure out how to use it to his advantage. He had to admit it was impressive that a normal police officer was able to get farther than he was, but you were still a normal person.

“I need to find them,” he spoke up.

“Why?” you cocked your eyebrow, soda straw still in your mouth. You had been studying his face to find any tell of malintent but the only conclusion you were drawing was that he was handsome as hell, and really good at hiding his tells.

“You don’t need to know.” he retorted. You hummed with discontent.

“See, Mr. Barnes. My job is to protect and serve. Sadly, that includes assholes.” You put down the now empty soda cup and leaned forward to match his position. “And you’ve said enough for me to arrest you under suspicion of planning to commit a crime against said assholes.” His glare hardened and his jaw tightened as he stared you down. “So please answer the question, ideally in a non-incriminating way.”

He looked and huffed, sliding back a little before fixing you with his stare again, but it wasn’t long until he was looking from his hands to the window, seemingly in defeat. “Their boss is dangerous. And I’m the one that made it so.” He forced a bitter smile finally looking back at you. “I’m trying to right as many wrongs as I can but I can’t find this guy but you.” he punctuated by pointing at you with his joined hands. You caught a glint of something metal up his sleeve that you suspect was his arm. “You came very, very close. Apparently, Closer than I thought you did.”

You mulled it over in your head for a moment before reaching into your breast pocket and pulling out your notepad. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Barnes” You looked over the restaurant between bouts of writing, talking all the while in case people were listening. “The case is closed and the records are public so everything you know is everything I know.” You quietly ripped off the piece of paper and pocketed the notebook, picking up your trash to disguise it. He took the hint and hid the paper by putting his hands down and sliding back in the booth, seemingly in defeat. “Good night, Mr. Barnes.” you said, and walked away, depositing your trash on your way out.

Bucky sat their a moment to give you a head start before stepping out himself, piece of paper in hand. As he walked home he opened the paper.

Tomorrow Seneca Village 23:35

Bucky stood in front of the plaque, mind too busy working through every horrible thing that could happen from this little stunt. He was about to run when he heard your voice. “Hey there.”

You walked over and stood next to him, stoically in your repose. You were wearing a pair of jeans and heeled boots with a fashionable jacket and a suitcase in hand. “I don't know which of us is stupider right now.”

“You could have picked a better meeting spot.” Bucky retorted, shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s horrifying,” you commented, putting the case down, Reading over the plaque. “Over two hundred lives ruined by a couple of assholes who wanted a park. Reminds me of another couple of assholes.”

“Yeah?” Bucky replied. You stood there a moment longer, thinking if you could still go back. You bit your tongue and decided having faith was the better bet.

“Burn it when you’re done.” you shot back and walked past him.

Bucky noticed the case just outside his line of vision. He picked it up and walked away from the plaque, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible despite the case not really matching his attire.

You didn’t hear anything for a couple weeks after the impromptu meeting, having handed over every piece of evidence that had been sitting in your self storage since 2015. Each minute was spent biting your nails with stress, hoping your actions didn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Then the news came on, publicizing that Robert Bern and Josh Smith had been arrested ‘after it was discovered they were connected to a human trafficking ring in New Jersey and a former operation in Staten Island.’

“Looks like somebody did your job for you.”

“Shut up, Louis.” you quip back at him, nursing a terrible cup of coffee. The restaurant was near empty aside from yourself, Louis, a trio of loud drunk women in the corner and a homeless man who had scraped cents together to buy a slice of pizza. The TV above the kitchen archway providing most of the ambiance.

“What’s got you in a mood?” he asked as he cleaned.

“Ever been ditched on a blind date? I get all dolled up,” you opened your coat to show a figure hugging dress with a low neckline, coupled with an elegant necklace. “And the asshole texts me when I’m already at the lounge saying he needs a fucking rain check.”

“Okay, well he’s an ass-”

“Right!” you exclaim.

“But you need to stop scowling before you scare off my customers.” Louis playfully chided.

“Oh, cause there’s so many of them.” you waved a hand out at the restaurant to emphasize your point. Still you leaned over your coffee to stew in your own misery. You couldn’t hear the door open over the women’s third rendition of ‘I’m every woman’ but you noticed someone slide onto the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see Bucky looking back.

“Have I seen you here before?” Bucky said playfully.

You chuckled involuntarily and sat up on your stool. “You must be mistaking me with someone else.”

He swiveled on the stool to face you fully, leaning on the counter comfortably. “You sure?” he seemed to be playing with you, a sly smirk on his face. “Could’ve sworn I met this detective lady here who looked a lot like you.”

“Was she pretty?” You pressed, a smile now sneaking it’s way onto your face without you knowing.

Bucky looked in your eyes with a soft sincerity. “Incredibly,”

You laughed nervously as you looked away and into the pool of your coffee. “Was that before or after she helped you with your job.” You deflected.

“About that,” Bucky leaned onto the counter. He was still quiet good at hiding his tells but you got the impression he was nervous by the pause. “You gave me more than I needed so I was able to do better than I planned. I know how hard it can be to trust someone. I'm not sure how to thank you for that.”

“Take her on a date!” Louis yelled from the kitchen, looking at you two through the serving window. “She’s already all ‘dolled up’” Louis mocked you.

“Keep cleaning!” you shot back. “Ignore him. He’s just dripping with sympathy since I got ditched.”

“I mean,” Bucky started, you looked over and saw him staring at his hands with nerves as his thumbs tapped against each other. “I just wouldn’t know where to take you.” he admitted under his breath.

A question instantly plagued your mind and it demanded to be asked. “Have you not...since nineteen-fifty?”

Bucky nodded with pursed lips. “You can laugh.”

You smiled at the super soldier. “Right,” you announced, pushing yourself off the stool. “Come on, I know a great dive three down.”

“A dive?” Bucky asked in disbelief, but he was still smiling.

“Yep. Where they don’t give a shit who you are as long as you're buying.” You fixed your jacket with new found enthusiasm. “You are buying, right?”

“For a doll like you,” He stood up from the stool. “I’ll buy the bar.” he held the door as you both left the little pizzeria

“Oh honey, there’s nothing like me.” you said playfully as you stepped out the door.

“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world,” he flirted, offering you his arm. You slide your hand in, curling your wrist around his bicep and off you both went.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tfatws #tftws #reader x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #reader x bucky barnes #fem!reader #fem!reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #remale reader #reader insert #mcu reader insert #mcu bucky #mcu bucky barnes

[blu-archer]

Let me help you..

Right. So I felt the need to attempt writing smut and sneeze inducing, so if this sucks I’m blaming it on the fact that I’ve never written this before. 

If you are under age, please don’t read this. While its not particularly hectic, it still is what it is.

Warnings: mature content. Very very mild language

Sickie: Jimin 

Caretaker: Yoongi 

-smut and fluff. 

-Also massages.

- I was bored and finished this at 2am.

Alternate universe - magic is real and Jimin is a hybrid.

Part 1 of this series.

Jimin moaned deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as a content purr filled the bedroom.

Yoongi smirked with the satisfaction of being responsible for his kittens reactions. He slid his hands up the hybrid’s smooth skin as Jimin began to squirm underneath him. Working his fingers into the hard, knotted muscles of Jimin’s upper back – smugly earning an even deeper moan of pleasure.

Yoongi tugged lightly on Jimin’s tail, aware of its sensitivities but only wishing to tease the hybrid while he had him pinned to the mattress beneath him. Jimin’s breath hitched but flicked his tail back, hitting Yoongi in the face as a form of scolding.

“I want you to feel nice, Kitten.” Yoongi answered innocently, leaning low to kiss the center of Jimin’s back.

Jimin shivered at the action, taking a deep breath before replying hoarsely. “We are not doing anything like that while I’m sick.”

“You would feel good..”

“This feels great as it is, Yoon.”

Yoongi trailed his kisses down the length of Jimin’s spine until he reached the base of his tail just coming just above the waist band of Jimin’s boxers, his hands still massaging into his boyfriend’s stiff muscles. Jimin mewled at the touches, his body betraying him and forcing him to shift awkwardly with shaky breaths as they started to move in the direction that he had very seriously stipulated not too.

Jimin flicked his tail at Yoongi again but he couldn’t bring himself to put in the same effort as before. Resulting in it falling weakly against Yoongi’s forearm. A slow heat was building through his body making him want to just melt into the sheets and as good as it felt, this paired with how Yoongi had laid him down was not helping his running nose. He was already running warm with small yet persistent fever, but this heat made him feel a different kind of weakness. One that Yoongi often enjoyed to-put him through. Yoongi worked his way down Jimin’s back once more, trailing his kisses in the opposite direction until he rested his lips against the cat’s scent gland.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi bit down lightly on the gland, grazing it with his teeth which sent a strong enough sensation to tremble Jimin’s entire body. The younger broke out into a rough bout of coughing, reaching up to grab the closest pillow to cover so that he didn’t cough into Yoongi’s face. The warlock paused in his activities, not bringing himself to alert Jimin that he had grabbed Yoongi’s pillow to cough into – or remind the cat that they slept together and that he was probably going to get sick anyway, so there wasn’t much point in the wasted effort.

“Sorry.” Yoongi murmured, setting a final kiss to Jimin’s neck before moving off of him and sitting up. “Should I get you some tea?”

“N-no.” Jimin croaked. “Tired of tea.”

“Some warm water with lemon and ginger then.”

The hybrid pushed himself upright so that he sat next to Yoongi, leaning into the elder as he ran his wrist under his nose with a sniff. Yoongi put on arm over his shoulders, letting his hand trace along the cat’s collar bone. When he heard a light scoff, he looked at the hybrid with a raised brow only to see the cat glaring into his lap. Yoongi’s smirk from earlier returned as he saw what had annoyed his boyfriend.

“Stop it.” Jimin snapped without any real anger. “ I said no, and you continued anyway.”

“I thought it would help you. You’ve done it for me before.” Yoongi pressed a kiss to Jimin’s temple. “But I’m sorry I should have stopped… although since I’ve started and you’re clearly able…”

“No.” Jimin stated sternly with a wet sniffle, yet his brows pinched together in thought. As if he were at least contemplating the idea. “I should take a shower. A cold one.”

“Don’t.” Yoongi stood up and pulled the hybrid after him, making sure that one of his woolen sweaters was grabbed before leaving the room. “Come sit with me and we can watch movies. You said that you have been wanting to watch that animation again, the cat one.”

“The lion king?”

Yoongi nodded as he dropped Jimin’s hand once they had reached the kitchen, giving the younger a moment to pull on the white sweater – its length draping to his mid-thigh. He flicked his hand towards the kettle, automatically it rumbled to life as it got to reheating  the water.

“If you want to. I don’t want you taking any cold showers, we can deal with it in other ways my love.” Yoongi let his magic flow and a variety of a things were propelled into action. Knives went to work on chopping up a lemon and small section of raw ginger then moved on to cutting up various vegetables that would eventually be put into a broth for them later.

Jimin stretched his arms up as he failed to swallow back a yawn, almost immediately scrambling for a handful of tissues from the box set up on the circular dinner table that they rarely used for anything other Yoongi’s work – and that one time when Jimin had been too impatient to drag Yoongi back to their room…

Hih’igxeshh huh..ahh. huh’iiTTCHhiew…

Jimin let out a congested curse as he blew his nose, wincing at how tender his nose was. The blowing hadn’t eased any of the pressure in his sinuses and he was pretty sure that he was going to sound disgustingly blocked up for at least the rest of the day. Yoongi pulled two small boxed orange juices from the fridge and handed one to Jimin before aggressive stabbing a straw through the top of his own. The juices were typically targeted to kids, but the pair had never gotten out of the habit of buying them from when they had been studying.

Jimin secretly hoped they never stopped.  Their other friends often teased them about it but having the little juices always brought fond memories of times spent with Yoongi, back when they weren’t dating and had just been roommates in college trying to survive exams. They would go days without proper sleep or social interaction and there were times when food and water were not consumed as much as it should have been. Which, of course after both had found the other in moments that had scared them quite badly, the tradition of leaving random boxes of the juice and snacks in their separate areas of studying had begun.

“This shouldn’t take too long, let’s go sit down.” Yoongi encouraged, ignoring the glance Jimin made at him using his magic when he had originally said that he would need some time to recover and had agreed to lay off of the magic until then. Thankfully nothing was commented on and he gave a breathy laugh at how Jimin snatched up the tissue box and held it to his chest before moving to the lounge. “Do you want your glasses?”

“Yeah..” Jimin answered as he threw himself onto the small couch, burrowing into the soft throw pillows that Jungkook had given them after setting his juice aside. “Is Tae coming over today?”

“Tae?” Yoongi frowned. “Should he be?”

“It’s Monday… isn’t it your mentor day?”

Yoongi breathed out a heavy sigh as he found Jimin’s glasses on the counter where he had left them the night before.

It was in fact his day to mentor. He had completely forgotten. At least it was still early, the sun had barely risen, so Taehyung wouldn’t have just pitched up at the store to find that it hadn’t been opened. Yoongi would have to just send a message and tell him that he would cancel for the day.

“I’ll ask Namjoon if he can take him again.” Yoongi said and settled down beside Jimin’s head, letting the younger move up so that he rested on Yoongi’s lap.

“He’s not some file or spell casting that you can just hand off Yoon, just tell him to come by here a bit later than usual. I’ll probably be asleep for most of the day anyway.”

Jimin had a point.

He sent a quick text to the witch informing him that they would work in Yoongi’s private studio space at his house instead of the store. Taehyung wouldn’t question it – perhaps he would have even expected it. Yoongi wasn’t as unpredictable as he thought when matters included Jimin.

**

Jimin was restless.

Yoongi was almost sure that the hybrid had missed the entire beginning of the movie with how he shifted around; adjusting the pillows or removing the sweater he wore to make it into a blanket of sorts – and then into a pillow when he wasn’t satisfied, or getting up to find water and ending up dragging the duvet from their room to the couch.

When Yoongi thought the younger had finally settled down with his head resting on the warlocks thigh, Jimin began to shuffle beneath the blanket as if he just couldn’t find the right place to lie. His cute ears that Yoongi had been softly scratching, were drawn back in irritation and his tail flicked continuously against the cover.

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at the Calico’s flushed cheeks and annoyed pout.

Jimin let out a heavy puff of air, his eyes narrowed as he practically glared at the tv. Yoongi ran a hand gently down the nape of Jimin’s neck and traced along his sharp collar bone, smiling at the deep purr that started up before startling as Jimin pulled away. He was about to question the youngers actions when Jimin settled himself onto Yoongi’s lap. His pretty eyes were dilated, and his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he rocked forward, drawing Yoongi closer by putting his arms around his neck.

The warlock let out a low surprised chuckled but made no complaint against Jimin putting his lips to his jaw, beginning a journey of lingering kisses that made him shiver.

“I thought –“

“You started this.” Jimin muttered a bit hoarsely, but Yoongi couldn’t tell if it was from his cold or whatever the younger was chasing after. “Finish it.”

“You didn’t want to..” Yoongi shifted as Jimin rolled his hips hard against him.

The movie played on, music cheerfully flooding the room, yet Yoongi could barely hear it as he focused on the soft breaths and moans that Jimin let out into his mouth and neck. Yoongi’s breaths were quickly matching that of the hybrid, if not surpassing him as his body reacted to Jimin’s hands trailing his skin tenderly.

“Now.” Jimin panted out. “Now I do. Please… I can’t focus on anything else.”

Yoongi pushed Jimin off, keening at the low whine that quickly turned to a moan as he forced Jimin back into the soft cushions while he got to his knees in front of him. He pulled the blankets that had been tangled around Jimin’s legs away, taking note of his boyfriends light shivers and hooded eyes from behind his glasses.

Jimin wasn’t normally needy when it came to these private moments between them if anything he was usually the one to be in control. Seeing the hybrid lean his head back and paw at Yoongi’s shirt impatiently and letting the warlock do what he wanted to do to Jimin without complaint or direction was a blessing that Yoongi rarely got to witness. Even if it included Jimin’s mouth breathing, chapped lips and crimson tinged nose.

He was running his hands over Jimin’s tight dancer physique with almost featherlight touches only to grip and hold his hips down in place as he pushed up to try to create some type of friction. Yoongi left tender kisses on the soft inner skin of Jimin’s thighs taking his time while smiling at the soft sigh that left his boyfriend before Yoongi gradually moved an inch higher and suckled the skin there. He could feel Jimin carding his hands through his hair, giving soft tugs almost in time with his heavy breaths.

Once he felt that he had left enough marks there he pushed Jimin’s legs further apart so that he could climb and rest between them as he trailed kisses and hickeys up the hybrids torso – earning a quivering moan as he hovered and switched between nipples. Giving the sensitive buds extra attention as Jimin shivered and dug his nails into Yoongi’s shoulder. The warlock didn’t even have time to wonder if the hybrid was going to claw through his clothes, he could already feel the sharp points digging into his skin – varying in force every few seconds.

Yoongi had always delighted in the fact that his kitten was extremely sensitive when it came to skin contact, every moment was a chance to see how he would react to the most subtle of strokes or kisses. Jimin’s breath quickened as he arched to rub his body into Yoongi’s as much as possible, his body heating at the feeling of the elders own arousal pressed against him when the warlock nipped at the glands on his neck. Jimin moaned deeply, his nails moving to scrape against Yoongi’s scalp and his breath catching in his throat.

He growled as Yoongi caught the lobe of his ear with his teeth, which resulted in him turning to cough harshly to the side. Yoongi pulled back, settling down on Jimin’s lap as he did his best to ignore his own erection that fought against his sweatpants.  Yoongi slipped a tissue out of the box and rested it around Jimin’s nose and mouth, feeling his hot breaths hit his palm through the soft material as he coughed.

“Blow.” Yoongi said gently when Jimin had finally caught his breath.

“You blow.” Jimin flushed and pulled Yoongi’s hand away so that he could blow his nose himself. He wasn’t going to let Yoongi have to feel whatever grossness came out of him. Jimin blew his nose twice, but the heat that spread through his body was making his nose run and left him sniffling miserably.

“Is that what you want? Can I continue then?” Yoongi grinned as he leant closer and gently sucked at Jimin’s jaw when he didn’t hear an immediate complaint.

“Yoongi… You don’t have to. Maybe this is too much, I’m quickly realising how gross this is again.” Jimin murmured apprehensively, although his body thrived under the soft caressing touches.

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle as he drew circles into Jimin’s v-line with his thumbs. “There isn’t a single thing about you that could possibly be gross, love. Lean back.”

Jimin shifted with an unusual amount of compliance. Yoongi merely smirked as he got to work at his boyfriend’s chest once more, priding himself at the low whines that vibrated out of Jimin. Slowly Yoongi ran a hand down between their bodies and slipped it smoothly beneath the boxer’s he had forgotten to remove to grasp at the base of Jimin’s dick. He smirked at the jolt that that trembled through Jimin’s entire body.

“Oh…” Jimin rolled his head back, his hips pushing against Yoongi’s hand with more force than he thought he could muster just then. He didn’t even bat an eye at the slick he could feel seeping out and no doubt ruining the couch. Yoongi didn’t even hesitate to start stroking at the achingly hard length, almost teasingly so, and Jimin could barely keep his pleasure contained, his body betraying his control as he shifted and mewled at the heat that coursed through him. “…ahhh… st-stop be-nnhgg.. ahh.. so-soft.”

“You want me to be harder?” Yoongi asked. His voice dipping low enough to spark a new wave of dizzying heat through Jimin even before the elder gathered some of the slick that had gradually begun to gush out of him before wrapping a strong yet tender grip around Jimin’s dick once more. Moving to pump him roughly.

“Fuck!”  Jimin cried hoarsely. His head slammed into Yoongi’s shoulder as he jerked up to meet the newly set pace, burying his face into Yoongi’s shoulder as he was driven closer to the edge.

The warlock bit at his cheek to try to bring his mind back to the present, controlling his own breathing before he drowned in Jimin’s whimpers and lewd pleas. Jimin hadn’t complained about his actions, but Yoongi couldn’t help but be mildly unsatisfied. Retracting his hand, earning sharp claws into his back as well as a hoarse whine, Yoongi moved down and yanked the boxers off of the hybrid in a hastily, swift motion. Jimin had just began to let out a low whine again when Yoongi took him in his mouth. The sounds that left them both were anything but soft and once again Yoongi was glad that their cottage was a relatively far distance away from their neighbours. He licked and sucked and hummed around the calico’s dick and the whimpers and cries set his blood alight.  It didn’t take much longer before the hybrid was spilling himself out, arching and thrusting up into Yoongi’s mouth as the elder swallowed as much as he could. He pulled back, white painting his lips as he returned his hand to milk Jimin dry, leaning up to kiss the hybrid’s gaping mouth as he did. Jimin was left a  panting and mewling mess in his boyfriends embrace, while Yoongi used the discarded boxer’s to briefly clean them off afterwards. That was definitely better than just watching ‘The Lion King’. Jimin would never be able to view the movie the same ever again.

“mmmngg…” Jimin lay a sloppy kiss into the curve of Yoongi’s neck before lightly coughing away into the air, too blissed to even try to lift up his arm to shield it.

“Content?”

Jimin gave another inaudible reply before stuttering off into a particularly vocal sneeze.

“Let’s shower, okay?” Yoongi said, flicking up his hand to shut off the movie that had still been playing. He was painfully hard, but he had expected nothing less from the sounds and reactions Jimin had been giving him. “Get cleaned up properly and eat before Tae arrives. Then you can get some rest.”

The hybrid sniffled and reached to tug at the hem of Yoongi’s pants, feeling too alone in his nudity, which caused the elder to chuckle tightly but not without affection.  He grabbed Jimin’s hands in his own and pulled him shakily to his feet.

“I don’t need any help. Let’s just get you in the shower, okay?”

There were no arguments from either of them. Even when Jimin decided that a second round was definitely in order.

**

“You should really air this place out.”

Yoongi startled at the voice, not having expected another person to be in his house. He had just finished getting food in Jimin and had gotten him to sleep, which had taken far longer than it should have and had resulted in some more deep massages to help his kitten relax. He hadn’t heard the front door open but seeing Taehyung rummaging around his kitchen shouldn’t have really surprised him. Perhaps his morning activities had sent him to a state of unawareness.

Thank god he had thought to set his magic down on cleaning their couch before leaving the room.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Taehyung swiveled to give a stern finger-pointing at the elder, it lost whatever effect he had tried to pull when Yoongi saw the strips of liquorice that dangled from the witches mouth. “This place smelt super musky. Its not good for Jimin to be in an unventilated area. The fresh air would do him better.”

Yoongi avoided eye contact, fearing that his smile would grow too wide if he kept looking at the witches stern disapproval. “I’ll keep that in mind. I thought he’d get cold. Should we get to work? I have a few spell books that I got in London that I thought would really benefit you.”

Taehyung grumbled lightly that his mentor should have ‘known better’ and that their roles should switch temporarily so that Yoongi could learn something about care giving from him instead. The warlock didn’t comment or correct Tae, merely laughed and waved him off as his mind tossed the vivid ‘helping’ details of his morning around in his thoughts.

It quickly became obvious that his heart wasn’t in the lesson that he should have definitely planned more for, and he realised that as soon as Tae accidentally set fire to a third of his sage collection. That was on him though, he should have known better to make an entirely clear space before letting Tae work on anything that had to do with the elements, and he should have been paying attention to what the younger was doing and saying in order to prevent such tragedies. It was entirely unprofessional to be so blatantly distracted, but Yoongi couldn’t seem to help it. A part of him kept wanted to run back into the main section of their little house – back to where Jimin was sleeping – so that he could check up on him. To see if he needed any tea, or some one to talk to, or play boards games with, or to see if he wanted Yoongi to comb his hair or scratch at his ears. Jimin loved having Yoongi scratch at his ears. And Yoongi loved doing it.

He'd missed so much in the months that he’d been gone, that the scents and the feeling of Jimin’s skin or hair or fur – the feeling of Jimin being close to him – he had almost forgotten what it was like, and he never wanted to even consider the thought of coming close to forgetting it again.

Taehyung had spent the next twenty minutes after the flames being a floundering, apologetic mess – even after Yoongi had tried to convince him that he wasn’t at fault and that Yoongi should have practiced some pronunciations with him first. His attempts didn’t seem to sink it. They both agreed on a break perhaps a bit too eagerly once they’d gone over a few pointers – Yoongi trying harder to pay close attention to Taehyung and the fine details that the witch still seemed to be getting wrong.

He let Tae help himself to some of the food that he’d made for Jimin earlier while Yoongi took the chance to peek into the bedroom to see if his boyfriend was still alright. And basically, just how Yoongi had left him, Jimin was curled into his side of the bed with the comforter pulled tightly to his body. His tri-coloured ears contrasted against the thick white sheets and seemed to be the only part of the hybrid that wasn’t completely under the blankets. As much has Yoongi wanted to go and pull them down to see the youngers face, he refrained. The soft, congested snores were enough to tell him that Jimin needed to sleep, so he dragged himself back to the kitchen and made himself the strongest brew of coffee he had to gain focus for the next few hours with his mentee.

Taehyung had just mastered a spell for plant growth and was gleefully trying to revive some of the things he’d damaged earlier when they heard the soft padding of feet coming from the entrance of the studio. They both paused in anticipation, their energy levels spiking until Jimin appeared in the section that they were in. Something in Yoongi’s chest melted like warm caramel at the sight of Jimin – he’d changed before leaving the cottage to join them in the small building outside that Yoongi had claimed as his studio space. Switching his sleep wear to a pair of Yoongi’s sweatpants as well the warlocks thickest jacket, even the hybrid’s tail was hidden beneath the warm layers. The extra padding as well as the broadness of the jacket made the hybrid appear even smaller than usual.

Jimin smiled shyly, bringing a tissue up to blow his nose before letting Taehyung bound over and hug him, his sleep-mussed hair flopping all over the place as Tae swayed him and picked him up to playfully pull him to his chest, quickly moving to ramble on about all that they’d done in the past hours that the witch had been there. Yoongi watched quietly from his high set stool, his hands fumbling around with some of the herbs he’d been planning on making charms with. He couldn’t help but notice the increase in Jimin’s sniffling. The hybrid seemed to be running a tissue under his nose every few minutes while earnest nodding to everything Tae was saying. His nose was an even brighter red than before and his eyes had that tired glazed-over look that made Yoongi think his boyfriend had only just woken up and had opted to find them straight away.

“I think I’ll be able to help Hobi’s little flower garden grow stronger. Both him and Kook have been so busy lately the maintenance of the garden has kind of downgraded a bit, and I’m usually not allowed to work with them ever since I forgot the sprinklers on that one time and drowned all the seedlings… but with this..”

Taehyung shrugged with enthusiasm, grinning widely at Jimin who was nodding along despite squinting with a somewhat dazed look. His nose scrunched up and he murmured a hasty apology before crumpling into his tissue with a desperate  sneeze that shook through his entire body. Taehyung lay a steadying hand on his friends shoulder as Jimin snapped forward once more, and again, giving a low groan and a disgustingly wet sniffle since his current tissue was no longer capable of use. Yoongi joined the hybrid’s side rather quickly after that, manifesting the box of tissues that he knew was inside their home so that Jimin could blow his nose again.

“I’b sorry.” Jimin glanced at Tae tired as he tried to rid himself of the congestion, only to find that the itch that had been bothering him was still there. Only this time it didn’t seem to want to progress further. “I was -snf- lis-listening.”

“I know.” Tae grinned and rubbed the calico’s back with nurturing intent. “Bless you.”

Jimin sniffed and scrunched his nose to try and wiggle the itch that had settled there out, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked softly. His hand gently tugging Jimin’s body closer to his own. With the way Jimin’s face had flushed and his eyes had turned watery, Yoongi didn’t think that he was done. “Did you just wake up?”

Jimin nodded, moving his hand to rub harshly at his nose causing his breath to hitch slightly but overall, accomplished nothing. “I ha-had a bad dre-hih-dream. snf.”

“My kitten.” Yoongi pulled him into his chest, squeezing him tightly. He could feel Jimin’s breath hitch against him and felt the rumbling groan of annoyance flood through Jimin’s body as he pushed his nose into Yoongi’s neck – seemingly no longer caring about possible contagion as Yoongi felt dampness on his skin. Although considering what they’d done that morning, Jimin probably had ruled that contagion was probably unavoidable. Jimin worked hard at trying to scent him, doing his best to try work away the ticklish feeling that left him feeling both crazy and drained, he could only whimper in annoyance.

“I ca-can’t sne-sneez-ah.. snf.”

“Sit down, Minnie.” Tae said, rubbing Jimin’s shoulders as the hybrid did as he was instructed, crumpling to the floor, desperate to try anything. “Yoongi… why… why don’t you try and coax it out. Hobi and I do it for Jungkook all the time during his allergies and colds.”

Yoongi hadn’t done it before. Jimin had always tried to do anything he considered ‘gross’ by himself, and this was usually one of those things. Yet looking down into his boyfriends teary eyes, Yoongi truly wanted to be the one to help him. Like he’d helped him that morning – well, not quite, not with Tae there, but the situation was somewhat similar. Control was being handed over.

Yoongi sat in between Jimin’s legs, grabbing a tissue and staring at it blankly before Taehyung instructed him to roll it to point – further explaining what he needed to do while Jimin coughed openly, his shoulders slumping forwards as Tae rubbed his back.

“Could you tilt back a bit, Love?” Obediently, Jimin leant back into Taehyung.

Carefully, Yoongi pushed the tissue into Jimin’s left nostril, gently nudging it around. At first Jimin merely looked uncomfortable and Yoongi was seconds away from pulling it out and trying something else – surely they had pepper or something – when he angled it and accidentally went deeper. Jimin’s expression changed to one that Yoongi was very familiar with as his breath hitch against Yoongi’s hand.

“Keep doing that and just wiggle it gently.” Taehyung encouraged.

Feeling quite studious, Yoongi pulled it out a little before returning it to that spot, giving the tissue a light wiggle. Jimin’s breath stuttered and hitched achingly until there were tears threatening to spill. Yoongi twisted the tissue with his finger and felt the sudden large inhale Jimin took before –

Heh’ ISHHTEWW! IP’SSHIEW! Hih’ih’ePISHH’uh!

Yoongi tried not to grimace – after all, the fluid that now coated his hand was a simple wash to get rid of, and his Love was clearly not feeling well enough to deserve any type of criticism – whether it was voiced or not. It wasn’t something he could fault the hybrid for. Yoongi merely grabbed for more tissues, pulling the now crumpled mess of an inducing tool out of Jimin’s nose, only to catch the next bundle neatly with his freshly tissued hand.

Yoongi murmured a soft ‘bless you’ each time Jimin was forced forward into his hand until finally the hybrid was halted into soft, tired panting. Taehyung made a comment about going to put tea on in the house and left them, leaving a soft scratch on Jimin’s head.

Yoongi took his time making sure Jimin was finished and clean before he wiped off his own hand, feeling Jimin’s unfocused gaze drawn to his actions.

“This,” Jimin cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “This is not how I hoped today would go. I’m sorry that must have been –“

“It was fine. Interesting actually.” Yoongi reassuring with a hint of amusement. “Your facial expressions were definitely something that will visit my dreams.”

Jimin’s red cheeks turned an even brighter shade as the hybrid smacked his boyfriend’s chest with a breathy laugh. “I really needed to sneeze. It felt really good.”

“I’m glad.” Yoongi placed a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. “I’ll do it again if you even need me too.”

“My saviour.” Jimin huffed with a strong sniff.

Remembering what Jimin had stuttered before, Yoongi ran a hand through the youngers hair, leaning in closer to stare directly into Jimin’s eyes so that he knew not to divert anything that was asked of him.

“What was your bad dream about?”

Jimin froze and then chuckled tightly, looking down into his lap. “It was stupid, looking back on it. I just felt really alone. It was like you weren’t with me anymore and everything was just really cold and dark, so when I wo-woke – hih’igtshh’uh ugh snf –“ Jimin burrowed into a tissue, making his voice muffled slightly. “When I woke up I had to find you, just to make sure.”

Yoongi frowned as he stroked through Jimin’s hair. Perhaps that trip that he’d gone on had done more harm than he’d originally thought. He didn’t want Jimin to ever think that he would be able to leave him. It just wasn’t possible.

“You know I love you, right? With every essence of my soul, I love you. I wouldn’t be able to function without knowing that you are alright, without having you by my side.”

Jimin nodded, but the smile didn’t reach his tired eyes.  “I know. I promise I know. And I love you so much. You are so stupidly lovable. It was just a bad dream. I always have you with me.”

Jimin pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s lips, deepened it momentarily before frantically breaking away to sneeze a double down into Yoongi’s chest.

“Argh… sorry about that. I think this entire thing is taking turns between moving to my head and chest.” Jimin leant forward into Yoongi, resting his head on his boyfriends broad shoulder.

“C’mon.” Yoongi patted him when he had started to fall asleep. “Let’s get you back inside and warm. Tae has probably finished making tea by now. You can drink it with him before I toss him out.”

Jimin hummed with a lack of interest.

“And some more medicine will probably be helpful.”

Jimin’s hum turned to a much more agreeable tone.

“Maybe I’ll even rub some of my herbal ointment on you.” Yoongi said with low teasing pitch. “I’ll be extra useful and massage all these stiff muscles of yours.”

That got Jimin laughing. His eyes crinkled before he kissed Yoongi again, wrapping his arms tightly around the elder.  Yoongi managed to stand and support his boyfriend as the younger clung onto him to be carried, making sure he was sturdy before making the short work in the cold to get back to the house. He could feel Jimin’s face against his neck, hiding from the chill as he sniffled, but Yoongi could feel the smile on the youngers face as he pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s neck.

And it must have been contagious, because when Yoongi felt the familiar scratch of teeth where the scent gland on his neck should have been, followed by a gentle press of lips, it was impossible to stop his own smile from spreading.

#bts sickfic #bts fanfic #smut #sick!jimin #caretaker!yoongi #hybrid jimin #warlock yoongi #alternate universe #snz #induces #first time writing smut #be kind #domestic #Taehyung is third wheeling #massages

[ichigo-daifuku]

levi and “Can I hold your hand?”?? congrats on level 100 :D

Hello, Anon! Thank you so much for requesting, and I hope you’ll enjoy this! I’m really sorry it took me so long to get to your request. I had a major writing slump, so I decided to take a break for a while. (ᗒᗩᗕ)

Level 100 Celebration ☆ [Closed] — This is the final ficlet for this mini-event. Thanks to everyone who participated in it! ♡

Spoiler Warning: Lesson 30-13 (Normal)

High Five [Leviathan/GN!Reader]

The practical test for Curses and Hexes had been far from what the name of the course suggested. For Leviathan, to be able to hold your hand and entwine your fingers together was a blessing he never would have thought he’d be bestowed upon with.

When he approached you and offered to be your partner for the practical test, he didn’t think you’d choose him. Why would you when you had other demons to select from? There was Mammon, who had always bragged about being your ‘first,’ and Satan, the one who had tutored you for these exams. Even so, catching him off-guard, you picked Leviathan. Despite the nature of the practical test, you cast the curse assigned to the class without hesitation, drawing your hands and his together and binding them.

If he were an application running on a computer, the pop-up window with the message, ‘Leviathan.exe has stopped working,’ would have already appeared on the screen. He was so flustered and excited and happy—he was overflowing with mixed emotions, so much so that he ended up rambling and had to be taken to the nurse’s office in a dazed, flushed state. The rest of his day, including the exams he still had to take, drifted by in a blur, and it was all due to the events that transpired during Curses and Hexes.

However, things between the two of you had been strange since you stepped out of the nurse’s office with him.

You had been walking beside Leviathan at that time. The second your knuckles brushed with his, you took a small step away and acted as if nothing happened. Back then, he had paid it no mind. The situation was awkward enough, and it was all due to his inability to control his emotions earlier. 

He started doubting if that was all there was to it a few days later. The two of you happened to reach for the same dish during dinner, and his index finger touched yours.

“You go first, Levi,” you pulled back immediately and said with a smile, proceeding to take the serving spoon of a different dish.

Weird, Leviathan thought.

To find out if his suspicion was correct, he sent you a text message and asked if he could borrow your copy of My Demon Academia manga. Although you replied he’d already read that specific volume, he insisted, so you relented. He went to your room to pick it up, and you met him by the door. As you handed him the manga he asked for, his long fingers touched yours on purpose. Startled, you let go of the item at once, almost dropping it on the floor if he didn’t grasp it on reflex.

That was it. You were avoiding touching him.

Did you not want to be in contact with his skin so badly? Something horrible must have happened during the Curses and Hexes practical test… but what was it? Leviathan racked his brains for an answer but couldn’t find any. You were even the one who entwined your fingers with his. Was the experience that awful? The thought alone made him feel terrible—worse than the time when he failed to purchase VIP tickets for Sucre Frenzy’s anniversary concert despite waiting so long for it. To say it saddened him was the understatement of the century. The fact that he could tell you any of his worries except this one made matters gloomier. It became a secret only he and Henry knew. When he thought about it, it had been a while since something like that happened.

Leviathan tried his best to cast those thoughts aside, or at the very least, avoid dwelling on them. He was doing fine… until he stumbled upon a scene he didn’t like one bit.

During your weekly game night, Leviathan looked for you all over the house. He wanted to clear the air between the two of you, so you could have fun together tonight. However, the sight of you and Asmodeus in the living room made Leviathan stand still. You and Asmodeus sat close to each other, your hands in his grasp as he lifted them near his face to admire them.

Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy, felt jealous.

“Oh, so pretty,” Asmodeus commented. “I haven’t seen nail art this cute before. Which salon did you go to?”

“Actually, a succubus friend of mine from Seductive Speechcraft…”

The conversation between you and Asmodeus failed to register in Leviathan’s mind. With his eyes zeroed in on your hands, which were still held by Asmodeus, he marched in your direction.

You noticed his entrance and greeted him, “Oh, Levi! We’re still on for our game night, right?”

“Yes…” he grit out.

“What?” Asmodeus chimed in and pulled you closer. “Let’s just have a sleepover, that’d be more fun, I’m sure?”

How could Asmodeus say that? Leviathan was both irritated and upset at his brother’s words.

“Maybe next time, Asmo.” You gave him an apologetic smile. “Those tests really stressed me out, and I’ve been looking forward to game night since those tutorial sessions started.”

Leviathan’s heart leaped at your words. He had been the same, looking forward to this night since the examination period began.

“Okay, okay,” Asmodeus replied with a sigh. “But you have to introduce me to that friend of yours.”

“Sure thing!”

“Let’s go,” Leviathan interjected.

Unable to wait for another second longer, he moved to hold your hand but thought better of it. You wouldn’t… want that, right? He sighed and opted to hold your wrist, which was covered by your sleeve, instead, and led you to his room. Once the door was shut, he released you from his fingers and felt envy kindling inside him again. Asmodeus could freely touch your hand as he pleases, but Leviathan couldn’t. He felt as if there was a thick wall between you, his favorite human, and himself. It was the last thing he wanted.

“H-Hey,” Leviathan began, “can I hold your hand?”

“What? Why are you…”

“You’ve been acting weird since that day,” he pointed out. “It’s like, you’re avoiding my hands.”

You averted your gaze from him. “I guess you could put it that way? I mean—”

“You might not want to be friends with me anymore, but I… I told you, right? You’re my true friend! So, if I did something wrong, please tell me…”

Leviathan didn’t want to lose your friendship. Not like this.

“Wait, wait, wait! What’s this about not being friends anymore?”

“Isn’t that… what you wanted?” he clarified, his voice dropping into a whisper as he continued, “Not that I blame you, though. Who would want to be friends with me, anyway?”

“No! Don’t say that!” you said. “We’ll always be true friends, Levi! We promised, remember?”

“Then, why were you so awkward with me after that? I’m Leviathan, the most awkward being among the three worlds! I should be the awkward one, you know?”

“I’m sorry Levi.” You let out an, ironically, awkward chuckle. “It’s just that if I touch or hold your hand, I wouldn’t want to let go so easily, and although it would be nice… I don’t want you to faint or get a nosebleed because of it!”

“H-H-HUH?!”

“Seriously, you were so out of it that day. Don’t you remember? You were staring into space while having exams, muttering under your breath. I was worried you wouldn’t pass.”

“How could I keep calm? Our hands were entwined. We were so close that we could feel each other’s sweat—that’s so intimate! How could you not get flustered? That just proves how much of a normie you are!”

The sound of your genuine laughter let Leviathan know everything was okay again. 

“It’s so you to say that!” you remarked.

“So… we’re still friends? Like, true friends?”

“Of course, we are… and we’ll always be. We’re like Henry and the Lord of Shadow, right?”

“Yeah!”

“How about this, then?” You held up a hand with a happy smile. “High five?”

“High five!”

Leviathan raised his palm and brought it to yours with enough force, but after your hands made a clapping sound, the warmth from your hand lingered. Delicately, you filled the gaps between his fingers with your own. The next thing he knew, your hands were clasped together. Leviathan had watched a scene like this in an anime before. To think it would happen to him, and with you, of all the beings he could have shared this moment with… 

Leviathan, whose face reddened, began, “Whoa! This… This is…!” 

Once again, if he were an application running on a computer, the pop-up window with the message, ‘Leviathan.exe has stopped working,’ would have already appeared on the screen.

Obey Me! Masterlist | Main Masterlist

#obey me #obey me! #obey me leviathan #obey me! leviathan #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #shall we date #shall we date obey me #swd #shall we date: obey me #L3V1 #ichigo lvl 100 #strawberry shortfics #anonymous

[silenceofthecookies]

Henlo Cookie UwU! Happy to see your askbox open, hope you get many good requests! I need some of that motivation to dive into the Magi manga u so graciously let me borrow, so I am going to ask for a scenario with Kouen and his beautiful goatee UwU, maybe an arranged marriage, but him and fem!reader actually fall in love? It's a bit unexpected for both of them since they were just seeing it as a duty, but a nice extra. Happy writing, enjoy your week off and much much love and much UwU!

Henlo Hazel! And I’m happy to see you in my askbox UwU. I’m really looking forward to you reading the manga! I’m expecting updates on feelings, though the most interesting things are in the second half, obviously 😉 For now, enjoy Kouen and his terribly weak goatee game! ❤

Word count: 1823

Warnings: Suggestive themes

“Do you, Ren Kouen, take L/N Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” “I do.” “And do you, L/N Y/N, take Ren Kouen to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “I do.” “Then by the power bestowed upon me by the Kou empire, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The first kiss held no emotion at all. Neither did the vows. Everything felt forced, just like the marriage you had gotten into. Not that you expected anything different. You and Kouen had been forced into a political marriage, you as the eldest princess of your kingdom, and Kouen as the crown prince, who would need a wife for when he ascended.

You had only met once before the marriage. The emperor of the Kou empire and your father were discussing the alliance, while Kouen was showing you around the palace grounds. He had been indifferent, uninterested and he seemed everything but happy. You couldn’t blame him, you weren’t too excited about this either. Though you were happy that Kouen was a handsome young man, and not some ugly old creep.

The party was stiff and formal, as you had expected. The wedding took place in the Kou empire, where you would now be living. Only a few nobles and family members from your country had showed up, so most of the guests were people you didn’t know. Kouen greeted them all with either a serious face or a confident grin, and he introduced you to every one of them. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to remember all of their names. The party wasn’t really on your mind at the moment, and neither were politics.

It was with your now husband, and what he would be expecting of you, mostly of the first night. You knew what was supposed to happen, but you did not feel ready for it at all. You had read many stories talking about the romance of sharing a bed with the person you loved, and the fact that you had to share this special moment with a stranger made you sick.

The party lasted until late in the night, and it resulted in quite a lot of drunk people. One of them had been one of the Kou princesses, Kougyoku if you remembered correctly, who had started talking to you. It was a little awkward because she was pretty far gone, but you could feel she meant well. She told you little things about Kouen, things you ‘should know as his wife’. How he would work until late at night, how he enjoyed reading and playing chess to pass his free time. How much all his younger siblings looked up to him, and how much of a respectable man he was. Before she got much further, one of her servants gently coaxed her away from your side, and apologised on her behalf for her intoxicated state.

Not long after that, the party ended and you follow Kouen to the bedroom. You were so nervous you could throw up, but you tried to endure it. Kouen held the door open for you, and you stepped inside.

“Your clothes are over in that closet. If you need anything, call the servants. I will be sleeping in my room down the hallway.” You stared at Kouen in disbelief. “But shouldn’t we… ehm…” “You’re uncomfortable, right? Don’t pretend you’re not, I’ve noticed your behaviour at the wedding. I refuse to take a woman against her will, wife or not. Get used to life around here first, then we’ll see about consummating the marriage.”

You stared at his back as Kouen left your room, unable to react. About a minute after he closed the door behind him, you collapsed and started crying, unable to contain all the feelings you felt. Fear. Had you been so obvious? Would there be consequences? Doubt. Were you not good enough? But also happiness. He would not take you against your will. You would not be forced to spend the night with him. You would spend the night in your own bed, without a stranger next to you, doing things to you.

Once you had let out most of the emotion and sorted the bulk of your thoughts, you got changed into your nightgown and lied down in the bed. After all the stress from that day, and the emotions from that night, you were both physically and emotionally exhausted. The comfort of your new bed took you by surprise, and it didn’t take long before you fell asleep.

The next morning, servants woke you up, helped you get ready, and your new life as a princess of the Kou empire, and wife to Ren Kouen, began. You were required to join him and his siblings during mealtimes, but apart from that you got a surprising amount of freedom. You were no hostage for your country, but you still expected a more restricted approach, certainly since Kouen seemed to strict. Then again, he had already shown you he respected you, at least until a certain degree.

For the first few weeks, you and Kouen barely talked to each other at all. There was some conversation during mealtimes, mostly to keep up appearances, but there was no spark, no affection, no love. Once mealtimes were over, you minded your business, and Kouen minded his. He never asked you to sleep in his room, nor did anyone else question it. It wasn’t like he was unfriendly to you, and neither were you to him. There was just very little interaction coming from either side. It was an arranged marriage after all, this was just your duty. Neither of you seemed very much interested in each other, until one night in the library.

You had been in the Kou palace for a little over a month, and you knew the place like the back of your hand. It was late, but you were far from tired. To chase away the boredom, you decided to head to the library to find a book to read until you got sleepy. Once you entered the library, you noticed the two eldest princes. Kouen was sitting on a chair next to a table with a chess board on it, and Koumei was walking away from the table.

“Come on, Koumei. Just one more game?” Kouen grinned. “You always say one more game, and then you insist on another one after that. I’ve had enough for today, brother. I’ll be retreating to my room. Good night.”

Koumei walked past you on his way out, and nodded to you as a greeting before he left. Kouen sighed, although still grinning, and looked at you.

“Good night, Y/N. What brings you here at this hour?” “I wanted to read a book before going to bed.” “I see… so you’re not tried yet?” “No…?” “You wouldn’t know how to play chess, would you?” “Only the basics, but I do, actually.” You were a little proud to admit you knew how to play chess. Maybe a little too proud. Kouens grin widened at your answer. “Then, why don’t you play a game with me?” You instantly regretted your answer, and the pride behind it, but it was too late to back down now. “Very well, one game.”

One game turned into many. Kouen beat you every game, but you learned from his strategies and got a little better every time. About 5 games in, most of the formalities and indifferent treatments had been cast aside and you finally managed to see Kouen as the person he was. Confident, curious, smart, strategic and most of all, someone who loves gloating at a win, even if it was against an inexperienced player. And on the rare occasion that you made a good move that ruined his strategy? He would actually scowl, which was an oddly cute look on the crown prince. The games continued for a good while, before drowsiness finally caught a hold of you.

“Perhaps we should end our game here for tonight?” “We’re mid-game, how come?” “Because you seem to be falling asleep right where you’re sitting.” Kouen said with a serious face, though he couldn’t help but grin at the end. “Maybe then you should make your move so we can continue this game. That would ease the boredom. I get thinking about your move, but you’re really taking long this time.” “I made my move 3 minutes ago, Y/N. Did you not notice?” You stared at Kouen, and he grinned back at you. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you huffed and got up. “Fine, we’ll end it here for tonight. Good night, Kouen.” “Good night, Y/N.”

Getting up the next morning was more of a challenge than expected. You had stayed up much later than expected because of the games, and now you were feeling the results of your actions. Maybe taking a nap somewhere around noon would be a good idea. Or straight after breakfast. That also sounded good.

“Well well, look who’s finally woken up.” Kouen grinned as you sat down next to him. “Did your defeat from last night keep you awake?” “Oh no, not at all. Though I suppose you slept great, gloating about how you, an experienced player, beat a novice at every single match?”

The table was deadly silent, with the exception of Koumei. Knowing what was going on, a single snort from him was heard before he continued eating with a smile. Kouen stared at you with his piercing glare, before actually laughing. The sound of his laughter sounded like music to your ears, and the way his eyes closed while laughing made your cheeks feel warm.

“Then why don’t we change that? My study, tonight after dinner. I’ll show you that no matter how good you get, you still won’t be able to defeat me.” “You’re on.” “Good.”

Kouen grinned at you one more time, before continuing to eat his breakfast. You had no idea why you agreed to getting your ass kicked some more at chess. It was probably his laugh, the sound and sight of it were now burned into your brain, and you were hoping to see it again soon.

As you walked back to your room, set on getting some more sleep now you knew you would probably be up late again tonight, you went over what just happened one more time. Mostly over what you felt during that conversation. The want to spend another night with him like that, and the heat you felt in your cheeks when he actually laughed. You had a good idea what this was, you had read enough books about it, but you wouldn’t call it love just yet. Maybe a crush would be better. You barely knew him after all, but you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case for long.

#magi the kingdom of magic #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi imagine #magi reader #magi x reader #magi/reader #magi #kouen ren x reader #kouen x reader #kouen/reader #kouen imagine #ren kouen #kouen #cookie writes #requested #nakunakunomi

[southeastasianists]

It had been two days since Hafiz last heard from Iani.

He knew that Iani’s parents had a history of abusing them [Note 1], and was worried for their safety. He’d tried everything — text messages, WhatsApp messages, voice calls — but received no response from Iani. It was as if they’d suddenly upped and left. Now his last resort was to make an unannounced visit to Iani’s house to make sure they’re safe.

Hafiz had a plan in mind. He would bring food to Iani’s house and pretend that they’d made dinner plans. It was something they did often, so he thought that that would make for a believable cover. At the back of his mind, however, Hafiz knew that this cover would be blown if something bad had really happened. Yet a half-baked plan was better than none at all.

Hafiz knocked on Iani’s house door and waited for someone to answer it. He heard some voices behind the door, but before he could make out what they were saying, the door cracked open. Iani’s mother greeted him with a strained smile, and Hafiz could see Iani’s father peering at him behind her. Hafiz knew that something’s not right.

“Hello aunty, uncle! I bought dinner for Iani, are they at home?” Hafiz said.

“No, but come in first,” Iani’s mother said, and ushered him into the living room. Iani’s father opened a Qur’an and started reciting a few lines of scripture to Hafiz. Once he was done, he passed the Qur’an to Hafiz and asked him to recite the same verses. It was an odd request, but Hafiz obliged; he knew why they were making him do that. After the ritual was completed, Iani’s parents told Hafiz that Iani had been admitted to the Institute of Mental Health (IMH) for emergency treatment of a psychotic breakdown. What they left out was that Iani’s breakdown was caused by “conversion therapy” sessions they forced upon Iani.

Hafiz rushed down to the hospital immediately. After two days of radio silence, he finally saw Iani again. But his feeling of relief was soon washed over by a commotion that erupted from Iani’s family members — they weren’t expecting any visitors. Iani winced at the noise and pulled Hafiz aside.

“Help me,” they whispered to him. “Break me out of here.”

Iani had been close with their parents since they were young. But things turned quickly and unexpectedly when Iani was 16. They were accidentally outed as lesbian [Note 2] to their parents, and before they knew it, the elders in Iani’s extended family started getting involved in organising “conversion therapy” sessions.

Iani’s grandmother and uncle came over to their house one day. It was clear right away that this wasn’t just a normal social visit; Iani only saw their uncle at larger family gatherings and celebrations. Their uncle is an Ustaz — a male Islamic religious teacher — and he made Iani sit in the corner of the living room. He then began calling out to an “evil spirit” in the room, and asked it to speak with the group.

It was a confusing experience for Iani, because while he made it look as if he were speaking with an “evil spirit”, it soon became clear that he was speaking directly to Iani. He asked a range of questions, and most of them were phrased to get the answers that he wanted to hear.

“Are you sad often?” he asked.

“Yes,” Iani, who had a medical history of anxiety and depression, answered.

“Do you feel like your parents don’t understand you?” he followed up.

“Yes,” Iani, whose parents wanted to put them through “conversion therapy”, replied.

The questioning went on for a while, but he never asked Iani (or the “evil spirit”, for that matter) anything about being lesbian. Instead, the questions were generic enough — as if by intention — that most teenagers at Iani’s age would answer the exact same way.

At the end of the session, he declared that Iani was possessed by a jinn — an evil spirit in Islamic mythology. The jinn, he explained to Iani’s parents, was responsible for influencing Iani’s sexuality and needed to be expelled from their body for them to become “normal”.

The session was mentally exhausting for Iani, because they had to suppress a multitude of emotions. First was anger: they felt that their uncle’s mixing of his superstitious beliefs with Islam was insulting to the religion. Then disbelief: Iani didn’t expect their father, who was well-educated, to be so easily swayed by his claims. Finally, betrayal: Iani had just witnessed first-hand how quickly their entire family turned on them.

But the benignity of the first session made Iani let their guard down. In a way, nothing could have prepared them for what’s about to come.

Around a week later, Iani’s uncle returned to perform ruqyah (an exorcism) on Iani. He made Iani memorise and recite verses from the Qur’an, and whenever the recital wasn’t to his liking — whether it’s done too loudly, too softly, or “not smoothly enough” — he would whip Iani with a rattan cane. Iani’s parents draped a heavy blanket over Iani’s body before letting their uncle beat them; they were careful to ensure that he wouldn’t leave visible bruises.

Iani’s uncle also made them perform sujud — a low bow, where one gets on their knees and has their head touch the ground. He then held a lighter to each of Iani’s feet as he recited Qur’anic verses to “cast the jinn away”. Iani screamed in pain from the searing heat of the fire, but their parents only saw that as a sign that the exorcism was working. At the end of the ruqyah, Iani’s sexuality remained unchanged, but their trust in their family shattered completely.

It soon became clear to Iani that the ruqyahs that their parents arranged were meticulously planned to ensure that the perpetrators could get away without consequences. When Iani suffered from a mental breakdown, their parents decided to call in an Ustaz for a ruqyah instead of seeking medical help. The Ustaz came over and restrained Iani while he performed his ritual. But when Iani’s father saw the bruises on Iani’s wrists, he immediately scolded the Ustaz.

“Jangan eh! Nanti orang report police! (Don’t do that, what if they report this to the police!)” Iani’s father shouted.

At the end of the session, the Ustaz told Iani’s parents that the jinn possessing Iani was there to destroy their family. This was a test of the strength of their family’s Islamic faith, the Ustaz said. He added that Iani really wasn’t lesbian, but only became so because of the evil influence of the jinn. This line of reasoning — a repetition of what Iani’s uncle previously mentioned — reinforced the idea that LGBTQ+ identities are inherently “unnatural” and can be changed. The Ustaz went on to instruct Iani’s parents to read the Qur’an together every night, and pray together as a family at least once a day in order to drive the jinn away.

Iani’s parents took his advice to heart and began intensifying their “conversion therapy” practices. Every day, Iani’s mother would force them to listen to syarahan (religious sermons) that focused on the “right” ways women should act, and how they should go about finding “good” husbands. Every evening since the visit from the Ustaz, the azan (Islamic call to prayer) at home would blast louder than before.

Iani’s mother also started performing her own exorcisms on Iani: she would put a metal bowl over an open flame, and claim that doing so would hurt the jinn. The metal bowl in itself had no effect on Iani, but over time, it started triggering memories of previous ruqyahs, and would cause anxiety attacks to set in. It appears that Iani’s mother never realised that she was psychologically torturing her already mentally unwell child. Instead, she earnestly engaged in anxiety-triggering activities, thinking that her rituals were working, and that they were somehow helping her child “get better”.

Soon after, Iani’s father made them watch a documentary about the story of Lut [Note 3]. The story of Lut is often quoted by Muslims to demonstrate God’s disapproval of homosexuality. At the end of the documentary, Iani’s father told them that being gay is wrong. This was the first time he made his stance so explicit. Iani was enraged, and argued that Allah also warned against rape in the story of Lut.

“Rape is everywhere, but being gay isn’t,” Iani’s father responded. “That’s why being gay will always be the biggest sin.”

As a survivor of childhood sexual assault, Iani felt like a knife was plunged into their chest. Iani’s father knew about their childhood trauma and how much it affected their mental health. Yet it seemed like he still believed that sexually violating someone else was more acceptable than being gay.

Iani’s existing mental issues, coupled with their parents’ relentless “conversion therapy” practices, meant that they spent considerable time with therapists at IMH. And even though Iani had been vocal about their parents’ abusive behaviours — even telling their therapists that their parents should be the ones receiving treatment — no serious action was taken against their parents. The responses Iani heard back were often along the lines of: “They only act like that because they’re muslims”; “They’re doing this for your own good”; “Some parents are like that”.

Even when a therapist was willing to talk to Iani’s parents about their “conversion therapy” practices, they would find themselves powerless in countering their beliefs.

“I’ve told your parents about sexuality and how it can’t be changed,” the therapist told Iani. “They know that what they’re doing is wrong.”

“So why won’t they stop?” Iani asked. “Why do they keep doing it?”

“They told me that they’re not stopping because they want to be better muslims.”

Iani is much older now, and no longer lives with their parents. They never reconciled with each other, and their relationship remains strained. Though it’s been many years since their last “conversion therapy” encounter, Iani hasn’t fully recovered from the trauma. Listening to azans could trigger anxiety attacks. Hearing someone say “Allah” would bring back memories of being beaten up by their uncle.

The concept of a jinn causing homosexuality might sound unique to Islam, but its main tenets are very similar to other “conversion therapy” beliefs. For one, a core idea behind the jinn’s possession is that people aren’t naturally LGBTQ+, but are influenced by external forces to be so. On top of that, the exorcism of the jinn is just another way of asserting that people’s sexualities can be changed. In those regards, “conversion therapy” practices across religions [Note 4] are more similar than they are different.

It’s important for us to understand that there is medical consensus that “conversion therapy” practices don’t work, and can cause long-term harm on participants (page 115). As we can see from Iani’s story, “conversion therapy” can lead to trauma that deeply affects the mental health of participants.

Many countries have taken action to protect people from the harms of “conversion therapy”. Taiwan has fully banned “conversion therapy” practices, while Germany has done so for minors. Other countries such as Canada, Israel, New Zealand, and the UK are considering legislation that would make them illegal.

Yet “conversion therapy” remains legal in Singapore. Many other teenagers like Iani may continue to be subjected to abusive ruqyahs and face long-term psychological damage. On top of that, Singapore’s domestic abuse laws allow parents to punish their child, so long as it’s done to “correct” the child’s behaviour (s64). This legal loophole means that many parents may be able to continue enlisting the help of Ustazs for “conversion therapy” with no consequence.

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Conversion Therapy #LGBTQIA+ Issues

[mycatshuman]

Fright Night But Make It Gay

Chapter 4 : "Kidnapped"

First | Last | Next | More

Pairings: prinxiety, Intrological, Moceit

Warnings: please let me know if I missed any cause I don't know

Posting this early to celebrate The Sanders Sides Anniversary! Happy 4 years of Sanders Sides!!

🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻💀🕷🎃🕸👻

"Why are we stopped?" Roman looked at his friends as they began to pile out of the van. Remus held a hand out to him to help him out. Roman took it and was pulled out to find they were in front of a roadside dinner.

"We're stopping to eat. None of us have eaten since yesterday," Remus answered as he made sure to keep an eye on his brother.

"Oh." Roman soon became aware of the others also keeping an eye on him and he shivered. I see they won't be letting me out of their sight then. They went in and sat down in a corner both. Patton and Janus on one side while Roman was put across from them with Remus and Logan sitting next to him and blocking any chance he might have had to escape. 

Roman was feeling the most uncomfortable he had ever had in his whole life. Of that he was sure. He just didn't understand, why couldn't they accept that his boyfriend was a vampire and go about their business like usual. They were college kids, didn't these random things happen regularly when one was in college? Roman looked down at his hands and fiddled with them. I miss Virgil. He would know what to do. Roman let out a silent sigh and looked out the window as the others browsed the menu. He wasn't very hungry. 

"Roman, what would you like to eat?" Logan asked as he finished deciding on his own meal. 

"Not hungry." Roman replied. 

Remus slowly turned his head to look at Roman. "Why not? Is it because you're already a vampire?!" 

Roman whipped his head around to face his brother. "Would you give it a rest, Remus! He is not the monster you are making him out to be! But no, you would rather listen to movies and books than your own brother!" Roman groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Listen, I'm not trying to run away, so stop hating on my boyfriend in front of me." Remus glared at his brother. 

Janus rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out of his head. "Guys, stop it. You're making a scene and you're upsetting Patton. Just order something and eat so we can leave." 

Roman stayed quiet while the others ordered. Once the waitress left, he hummed loud enough for his tablemates to hear him. "Why did all of you have to come to go see this Vincent guy? Like couldn't some of you have stayed back?" He watched as the others shared a glance. He scoffed. "Oh, let me guess, you're scared he'll kidnap you and force you to tell him where the others are taking me?" 

"We just want to make sure you're okay, kiddo," Patton responded carefully.

Roman bit his lip. "You didn't even give him a chance," he muttered bitterly. He went quiet again. 

When the food came, the waitress placed some eggs and bacon in front of him along with a mug of hot chocolate. Roman frowned. "I didn't ask for this," he said once she left. 

Logan nodded. "I know that, but we're not barbaric-" 

"Ahem."

"Right, we, your brother aside, are not barbaric. We won't eat in front of you like that. Plus, you need to eat. I understand you're not hungry right now so if you can't finish it then we will pack it up and you can eat it in the van once you're hungry." Logan paused as he took a bite of his food. "That being said," he dabbed at his mouth. "You need to eat." 

Roman huffed. He poked at the food on his plate with a frown. He wasn't going to eat. It was ridiculous, but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction that they had made him give up so easily. He paused as a thought popped into his head. If I eat very slowly, Virgil could catch up and then we can prove that he's not a monster. Roman picked up a small bite of food and began chewing lazily. He couldn't be too deliberate. He had to be nonchalant about this, if they knew what he was trying to do, they surely would pack up and leave immediately. If he played his cards right, he would be able to stall them long enough for Virgil to show up. Of course, there was the possibility that his boyfriend wasn't actually coming. 

The thought made him pause. What if he isn't coming? Roman shook the thought out of his head. No, I can't think like that. He's coming. I know him. They don't. They don't know him at all. So Roman ate as lazily as he could until there was nothing left and they were leaving without even a hint of Virgil. Did he not leave yet? The insecurities beat on Roman until he heard a familiar shout of his name. 

"Roman!"  

His eyes lit up and he whipped around to find his handsome boyfriend behind him. "Virgil!" He exclaimed happily and went to run to him only to be yanked back by Remus. 

"Hurry up, Logan! Start the car and drive!" Janus yelled as Remus dragged Roman into the van with Patton hoping in behind them and closing the door. 

"Hey, wait!" Virgil yelled only to stop and race back to his car. If they were going to drive off, he wasn't going to be far behind. 

Roman sank down to the floor of the van dreamily. "He came for me," he sighed. Patton snorted while Remus scoffed. 

"Yeah, he probably wants his blood bag back." 

Patton frowned and smacked Remus on the arm as they pulled out of the parking lot. "That wasn't very nice. Take it back." 

"No."

"Remus, apologize to your brother," Logan called out from the front seat where he was driving as he and Janus tried to lose Virgil.

Remus groaned. "Sorry, Roman." 

Roman hardly noticed. All he could think about was how his nightmare in softest hoodie had come to rescue him. 

------------

Virgil groaned as he pulled into a gas station. How the hell did I lose those idiots? Of course, he was sure they weren't actual idiots. He was just frustrated about the situation. Scratch that, they were idiots if they couldn't even give him a chance. Come to think of it, what exactly made them think he was a vampire? They didn't believe Roman when he told them the first time, so why now. What had happened that made them believe now?

Virgil ran a hand through his hair as he finished pumping the gas. He walked into the gas station building to grab a few snacks and pay. As he stepped out he smelled a familiar scent. "Roman?" Virgil looked up to find that they had just pulled in. 

"Shit!" Remus exclaimed as he caught sight of Virgil. "Drive! Drive!"

Virgil snorted as he remembered that he still had access to Roman's location and quickly hopped into his car and followed after them. 

---------------------

Roman sat on the floor of the van, his head rested on the palm of his hand as he stared off dreamily into space. Patton smiled softly as he watched the other hum "Once Upon A Dream". He felt hands wrap around him and he grinned as Janus placed a kiss to his head.

"Hello, Darling," Janus said smoothly. 

"Hi Hun." Patton turned his head to face his boyfriends' and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He snuggled deeper into Janus's hold. "So how are things going up there?" He asked with a nod of his head to the two in the front seat. 

Janus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh you know, they're trying to find Vincent's place while keeping an eye out for the vampire. Remus is probably making some dirty jokes too." 

Patton bit his lip as he cast a glance to Roman. "Do you think…" he sighed. "Do you think that maybe we're making the wrong decision?" 

Janus frowned. "What do you mean?"

Patton shrugged. "I mean, maybe we should have given them a chance. We don't know for sure that he's a bad vampire."

Janus nodded. "Well, we did see those bite marks on Roman." 

"Doesn't mean that he's a monster." 

Janus slowly twirled his hands through Patton's hair in thought. "True, " he said carefully. "But I think this would make Remus feel better. Think about it, he finds out his brother is dating a vampire." Janus rested his chin on Patton's head. "He found out this thing he viewed as a monster from childhood is real and dating his brother. He's scared that something bad is going to happen to Roman. I think you would react the same way with your brother." 

Patton sighed. "I know, but I just feel bad for Roman. Look at him." 

The couple turned to face Roman who was leaning back against the wall looking up with a love sick smile in his face. Janus snorted. "Yes, he looks like a love sick fool."

"Oh!" Patton lightly smacked Janus' arm. "Stop teasing him." 

"He reminds me of how I am with you."

Patton flushed lightly. "Oh, you sap." 

Janus smiled and pressed a kiss to his boyfriends' temple. "Only for you dear. Only for you." 

------------

Finally, finally they had arrived at the mansion of Peter Vincent. Remus dragged his useless gay brother out of the van as they all stood up and walked up to the front door. "It's quite an impressive place," Patton commented. 

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this done so we can get rid of this blood-sucking monster," Remus growled and reached forward to press the doorbell. A loud bell rang out and Logan wrinkled his nose. 

"He certainly has a flair for the dramatic, it seems." 

The door creaked open and a young disheveled man stared out at them. "Can I help you?" He asked with a disgusted look.

Janus frowned. "Uh, yes. We're looking for Peter Vincent, is he here?" 

The man rolled his eyes. "Dads' on a vacation. I'm his son." 

"When will he be back?" Logan asked.

"I don't know. Why does it matter anyway?" Vincent's son regarded them with annoyance. 

"I want to speak to him that's why. Now give me his contact information so I can get ahold of him." Remus growled. He was losing his patience.  

--------

Roman jumped slightly as he felt something cold touch his shoulder. He turned and then a bright grin spread across his face. "Hey, darling." Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman's waist and watched his boyfriend's roommates as they tried to hold Remus back from ripping the guys head off. 

Roman snuggled deeper into Virgil's embrace as Virgil pressed a kiss to his check. "I knew you'd come for me." 

Virgil smiled and leaned close to Roman's ear. "Hey, how 'bout I 'kidnapp' you? They'll have to come and then we can prove that I'm not going to kill you." 

Roman shrugged. "I don't know, Virgil. I think if you continue looking that hot I might die." 

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Oh shush, you!" 

Roman pulled himself out of Virgil's embrace and gently took hold of his hand. He smiled at him and dragged him back to Virgils' car. "Come on, handsome. We can play some games while we wait." 

Virgil flushed. "Roman you have got to stop doing that!" 

Roman blinked innocently. "Whatever do you mean? I'm just talking about Twister.";

"Hey! Wait!" Virgil and Roman turned to find Remus and the others had finally noticed them. 

Virgil smirked. "Get in the car, pretty boy." Virgil hopped into his car as Roman slide in next to him. 

"I just need to tell you how absolutely sexy you look right now," Roman said as he watched his boyfriend drive with a mischievous grin. Virgil flushed and shook his head as the van with Roman's family pulled out onto the road behind him. "No, I don't."

Roman growled. "Seriously Virgil. If you're not careful I might have to yank you into a kiss. Like who gave you the right?" 

Virgil shook his head. "You are a gay disaster."

"I'm your gay disaster."

Virgil smiled softly. "Yeah, you are." 

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All: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws @odette-ssbu

#sanders sides fic #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides au #logan sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts remus #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts janus #ts prinxiety #prinxiety #no read more #mycatshuman writing #mycatshuman fics #FNBMIG #fright night but make it gay #vampire virgil

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 4/18

Gif not mine just the text

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang's staff at Dumbledore's request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Bold lines are from the book Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix

--

“Come on, Charlie.” He stared at her for a moment and lowered his wand. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea...” Kate sighed and gripped her wand more firmly. 

“I need to see what your tactic is so we can improve it.” He pointed his wand at her again and she gave him a quick nod before counting from three to one.

“Flipendo!” Charlie shouted. With a sudden movement, Kate raised her wand, and his spell bounced in the air. Violet sparks shot from her wand, but Charlie dodged them. “Stupefy!”

 She cast a shield again, and the spell went back towards Charlie. He managed a clumsy “Protego!” And Kate used his distraction to disarm him.

He was left staring at his wand that had got stuck in the mud. Kate grimaced sympathetically and waited for him to pick it up.

“Think about your opponent and try to predict their movements. It’s easy with me, you know me. Think about earlier, the sequence of spells.” Charlie took a deep breath and stood in a combat position, “And square your shoulders, you are not taking care of a baby dragon, here. You are battling with the enemy.” 

Charlie’s wand twitched slightly. He’s attacking again, she predicted. He attempted a non-verbal spell, but Kate managed to dodge it. Suddenly, Charlie started shouting a sequence of spells, forcing Kate to wave her wand frantically in the air and, to his disappointment, avoiding every single one of them. 

When he stopped, she shouted “Melofors!” And Charlie’s head got trapped into a giant pumpkin. 

Kate started laughing, and he raised his arms in a silent question. Between giggles, she mouthed “Finite” and his head went back to normal. 

“What was that for? How did you do that?” She approached him and took a few insides of the pumpkin off his shoulders. 

“I should have taken a picture. Never cast that jinx on you, you looked nice.” She reached up and messed with his hair. “Although with this orange locks I don’t think there’s much difference...” 

He threw her a fake offended look and nodded defiantly. 

“Oh, it’s on now, miss.” Kate’s eyes twinkled, and a brilliant smile lit her face.

“Yes! That’s the attitude. Come on, change of tactics. I don’t recommend you to cast a lot of spells at once, your wand will start doing funny things.” 

He nodded, and they resumed their original positions. 

“Try doing something unexpected.” They pointed at each other and attacked at the same time. The spells collided in a shower of sparks.

 Kate attacked again, but he avoided it. A few Flipendos were shouted here and there before Charlie did what he was asked: something unexpected. 

He pointed at the ground, and suddenly the grass around Kate started growing too quickly to react. She couldn’t see anything from the grass cage she was trapped in, so she put her arms before her and pushed at the green barrier, fumbling forwards and almost losing balance. 

“Expelliarmus!” She felt her wand slip from her hand and followed its trajectory with her eyes until it landed by Charlie’s feet.

 After recovering from her astonishment, the corners of her lips curled up.

“That was really good. Very creative.” He smiled proudly, picked up her wand and handed it to her. 

“I almost didn’t get it. Non-verbal spells are your thing.”

“I’m not sure if that’s helpful in a duel, but you’re getting the idea.”

“Charles! Katie! Dinner’s ready!” Mrs Weasley’s voice fell over them like a cube of iced water.

“Let’s go inside before Mum catches us duelling in the backyard.”

--

Real-life duels had nothing to do with the innocent performance of that day when Kate taught Charlie a few tricks. Especially not in Libor Marek’s advanced duelling class.

The man was stocky, so much that Kate thought that if someone bumped into him, they would fall to the ground on impact.

You could tell he’d been in a lot of battles. The skin on his face was tanned, but it had red and sunken areas. A slight beard covered many of the scars, but others, such as on his forehead or nose, gave him an even more frightening appearance.

Kate had been sitting in an armchair for an hour watching the different lessons that were part of the class.

Her coworkers were not kidding when they warned her of the violence in his classes. So far, a crack in the wall had occurred, a lamp had fallen, and several curtains had caught fire.

No one seemed to care about all this except from Kate who, from her seat, was cleaning up the messes that the teacher and his students were making in the process.

The class had begun normally; they practised on mannequins until Marek got tired and placed them in two rows facing each other. That’s when the actual problems started: slugs, flames, chains, petrified students or dancing around were some things Kate had to deal with.

She noticed his limp and how, thanks to it, his balance on his left leg was impeccable. He had boasted several times that he could beat anyone while standing on one foot only, and he had every right to do so, because his skills were admirable.

“Get in line. Let’s see what you’ve learned today,” he announced. It’s rare to see classes where lessons are individualised; it requires time and patience.

Nevertheless, Libor Marek spent a few minutes for each of his students and corrected at least one thing they were doing wrong.

Kate could not, or perhaps didn’t want to, pay attention to Marek’s mind, something Professor Snape would have reproached her for without hesitation. She had forgotten why she was there and at some point; she began to listen to the teacher’s directions and advice.

One of the students got into position.

“Don’t you dare cast a spell.”

The room became silent and Kate leaned forward in her chair.

“Does anyone know what will happen if he tries to knock down the mannequin?” Several murmurs echoed around the class, but no one dared to give an answer.

“He will fall,” Kate said, louder than expected.

All eyes fell on her, and she felt like a sniffler caught stealing coins. Libor arched an eyebrow.

“Elaborate.”

Kate stood up and pointed to the boy’s hand and traced the path of his wand.

“His arm is too high. The spell will bounce against the window in the opposite direction.”

The teacher squinted almost imperceptibly before stepping aside and waving for Kate to take his place beside the boy.

“A healer with space vision? That’s odd, to say the least. Please.”

She shook her sleeve and her wand slipped until she could grab it. She took a few steps and got into a duelling position.

“Don’t... move.” He stood right in front of the tip of the wand and asked his students to step aside.

“Steady pulse,” he turned his gaze to her feet and hummed “exact angle of the feet.”

He circled Kate, looking up and down at her.

“Upright position, but not tense.” He stood back and gestured towards the mannequin. “A simple banishing charm will do.”

Just by moving her arm, a bright white light shot out and hit the target, propelling it towards the wall.

“And also skilled in non-verbal charms. You had an excellent instructor. Did you study at Durmstrang? I don’t remember you.”

“No, at Hogwarts.” For some reason, he was surprised.

“I didn’t know that Hogwarts appreciated martial magic.” He waved his hand, and all the mannequins piled up in one corner. He stood a few feet in front of her.

“Tell me about your wand.” Kate tilted her head.

“That’s cheating, if we’re going to duel.”

“Who said anything about that?” Kate questioned him with her eyes and he answered with a half-smile before pointing his wand at her.

“I already know is spruce wood, though it might be pine. Slightly elastic, from the way you’ve tightened it when you cast the spell, and you know it very well, is it phoenix feather?”

Kate put the wand down and couldn’t hide her amazement. Meanwhile, Marek continued to speak.

“I also know that you are, or could be, good with wand-less magic. Your fingers, on your left hand, glowed just for a second.”

“You know all that at just one glance?”

“So it is phoenix feather. Interesting combination. Come on, let’s see what you can do. Best of three?”

Kate raised her wand again and took a deep breath.

“Why?” She just asked.

“I never miss a chance to find a new tough competitor. And if they’re inexperienced, they make the best disciples.”

Without warning, Marek cast several offensive spells that Kate easily deflected. He inspected her again and followed the assault.

He was quick and very agile; the minutes passed and Kate began to have difficulty keeping up.

The professor took action and began to move. She adjusted her position and followed his steps, keeping her distance and avoiding some students who, with the lack of space, no longer knew where to hide. When Marek sped up his steps, they seemed to dance.

“So you say you studied at Hogwarts...” he questioned. With a whip-like movement, Marek deflected his wand towards the group of students. Kate reacted in time and bent her entire body so that the counter-spell reached the area where they were.

The two spells collided and deviated until they exploded against the door which, being half-open, closed making a great noise.

“Time out!” shouted Kate before raising both hands. Marek looked at her curiously. “You fight me, not them.”

“Anything can happen in a duel. I teach them to be ready at any time, especially when they’re not fighting. They’re purebloods and I want the best, if a spell comes their way for watching flitterbys, they’ve asked for it.”

It was Kate’s turn to strike. Squeezing her wand, she discharged a series of jinxes to him.

They didn’t even tickle him. He avoided each of them without breaking a sweat.

“I see the indignation on your face. Is it something I said?” he roared. His challenging eyes glowed with amusement. “Ah, I see,” he began as he avoided Kate’s spells.

“You’re one of those who has sympathy for the mudbloods.” Kate stopped the assault. She took a couple of deep breaths to get her strength back.

“That’s an awful term. And this school is missing out on having wonderful witches and wizards.”

“Durmstrang admits just the best.” Marek initiated offensive spells again and moved around the room, forcing Kate to walk toward the mannequins.

“Do you test them to get in? To see their level?”

“It’s unnecessary.”

“Then it’s not a good system.” Soft murmurs from the students indicated their bewilderment, and their fear, at the direction the conversation was going. “Hogwarts accepts everyone equally.”

Marek laughed and shook his head.

“Ah, but that’s not quite true, is it? Would they let a wizard from Germany in? No? Maybe one who lives in Spain? For your beloved school, everything outside its radius doesn’t exist.”

Kate had lost her focus. That was clear to anyone who was watching. She lowered her wand slightly, and Marek took advantage of the slip.

“Oppugno.” He said it so casually that it didn’t seem like he was casting a spell.

The mannequins rushed to Kate, forcing her to turn around and hold them back with a protective spell.

Without her being able to see it, the professor waved his wrist and her wand shot out.

Before the mannequins could attack, Marek stopped them within millimetres of her. She turned and Libor levitated her wand towards her.

“One-nil, by my reckoning.” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Kate conceded with a nod of her head and got into position again.

“I hope your friends won’t intervene again.” She commented by pointing her thumb behind her back.

“Professional advice: don’t expect anything from anyone.”

The rain of sparks began again, moving the students across the room so they wouldn’t get hurt.

Kate ducked just in time to dodge for two jinxes. One of them bounced against the window and hit one of the lamps, which fell in between them.

Marek caught it in the air and pulled it back up, fast enough to protect himself from Kate’s spells.

A red beam shot from Marek’s wand, and Kate’s eyes widened.

She shielded herself a little awkwardly from the fright and called another time out.

“I have not agreed to unforgivable curses.”

“Irrelevant. You know them well without even saying the word, and you have protected yourself. What is the problem?”

Kate didn’t answer. This time she started the offensive.

“Back to the subject: I’ve known brilliant Muggle-borns who’ve taught me many things, and purebloods who’ve taken years to learn a basic spell.”

Marek rolled his eyes and started walking around the room while dodging hexes.

“They are a hindrance. They take up the space of those who really deserve it.”

“Just like that? Would you get rid of all the Muggle-borns?”

Marek halted and raised his arms. His expression was aggressive, and Kate could see he was upset.

“Don’t change my words. I don’t want to kill Muggles. I just teach genuine witches and wizards.”

“And what are Muggle-borns but witches and wizards?”

“They are remnants. Remains of a true wizard ancestor. They’ll never live up to the potential of someone whose family is full of magic.”

Kate changed the direction of movement and turned the other way. He watched as Marek was absorbed in his thoughts, not even paying attention to Kate’s spells. He had grown accustomed to her tactics and was moving by inertia.

It was time to do something unexpected.

Concentrating all her power in the palm of her hands, she gestured as if she was grabbing a handful of air and pulled.

With the aid of her wand, the heavy curtains that were once tied with ropes were lifted to stand between them.

Marek cut them in half and freed himself before the cloth could trap him completely.

He arched his eyebrows in recognition, but Kate was staring into her palm, where a spiral of golden shimmering was disappearing beneath her skin.

She had never done anything like that before.

“Worst of all, the proportion of the wizarding population that is muggle-born is increasing as pure-blood families shrink in number. They have become a plague.”

Kate snapped her head up and gave him a half-smirk.

“You’ve just admitted that they’re part of the wizarding population.”

“What...?” As the professor registered what he had just said, Kate used his confusion to expel the wand out of his hand.

“Draw, by my reckoning.”

They got into position for the third time when the sound of bells indicating the end of class echoed throughout the castle.

Holding her gaze, Marek dismissed his students.

“I hope you have learned something from this meeting. You may leave.”

Slowly, the girls and boys present approached the door without taking their eyes off the two duellists. The door opened, but no one wanted to leave. They stood at the entrance of the room watching the show and wondering who would win.

“I believe, Mr Marek, that if you put aside your prejudices, your world would become a little less dark.”

“You are in Durmstrang, young lady. Everything here is darkness.” With one last wave of the wand, Kate took a blow to the chest and ended up on the floor.

She sat there, trying to pretend she wasn’t massaging her right buttock.

The professor limped over and extended a hand that Kate accepted.

“Good duel. You’ve been a tough competitor. There are things to polish, but you could easily enter a duelling championship.”

She stood up in pain and shook her head.

“I’m not interested.” She looked down at Marek’s knee and gathered the courage she needed before she spoke. “May I ask what happened? With your leg, I mean. Maybe I can help you.” He just huffed.

“There’s no cure for this, I’m afraid. Certain curses leave a mark forever.”

--

Kate stood at the owlery waiting for a letter from Charlie.

The little owl that she had turned into binoculars was already more comfortable with her and, after some treats, had already forgiven her for the incident.

She had a lot to think about in the days following the duel with Libor Marek. Despite everything the professor had said, there was something in his attitude that made her think he wasn’t a murderer.

An internal conflict arose as she considered the contempt with which he had spoken of the muggle-borns, a characteristic value of a Death Eater.

“But many people think like him, don’t they?” she caressed the owl’s beak with her knuckle and sighed.

His honesty presented a problem. A problem with a clear and effective solution. However, it was premature to reach any kind of conclusion.

"And furthermore, he said he would not kill Muggle-borns."

Her new friend tilted its head and watched her carefully.

"I guess you're right."

The promised owl arrived with a letter and a newspaper, which she kept inside her uniform and pressed against her chest on her way to her room. She had to keep her head down so that the smile she was unable to contain wouldn’t be noticed.

That smile faded as she read the Daily Prophet’s lines.

“An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s rubbish!” she exclaimed, throwing the article entitled MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN on her bed.

Furious, she grabbed paper and quill and began to write a letter to Tonks asking for explanations, before stopping short.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She rested her elbow on her desk and put her forehead on the palm of her hand. Dumbledore had said that the least amount of people should know about her whereabouts. Least of all someone from the Ministry.

With a sigh, she crumpled up the scroll and turned to look at the article again. The image of a witch twisted into a scream drowned out by the paper.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

She took her wand and suspended the newspaper in the air before creating four clean cuts around the article.

She opened the closet and rummaged through her things until she found a notebook she had hidden.

She turned the pages containing the documents about the four teachers she was to investigate: Mer Yankelevich, Libor Marek, Kent Jorgensen, and Leron Angelov, whom she had not met.

Kate kept turning pages with notes and those same names under a code, until she reached the first empty space, where she placed the cut-out article.

After noting the date, she wrote down on the next page her observations about Professor Marek.

She was aware of the danger of keeping a diary with all this information, but she had to tell someone everything that was going on, and neither Charlie nor Rowan could provide that help now.

--

[Part 5]

#charlie weasley #mc #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #hphm #charlie weasley fanfiction #honestly this is one of my fave chapters so far

[maggyme13]

Sugar (6/?)

AN: Here is the next part. What do you think will happen now? WIll Loki relent, or will he stay the asshole he was?

Wordcount: around 16000

Warnings: I think not

Masterlist

Sugar- Masterlist

Sugar 5

Wearily you stepped into the mentioned bath.

The floor was laid out with dark wooden planks; Tub (inset for half its depth in the floor, filled with steaming water) and sink made of black marble with silver inlays.

With fearful eyes you looked around for any hint that Mr Laufeyson had lied, but you couldnt spot any electrical devices apart from the lights in the ceiling.

Finally you found it to be save and started stripping off the offending clothes starting with the shoes and String; the dress would wait until you had entered the water. It was sad for the fabric, but you did not feel well otherwise.

Emerging yourself under the water, you realized the water to have the perfect temperature and once you had peeled off the once beautiful dress, you began scrubbing your skin to get rid of the ugly feeling the man left behind on your body.

Skin raw and water cold you were almost satisfied with the state of your body. You then grabbed a (huge) soft towel to dryddd and returned to Mr Laufeyson´s Bedroom where you found your most comfortable clothes laid out on the bed. After one last glance around, you quickly got dressed.

It was then that an intoxicating scent entered your nose and both your brain and stomach realized how hungry you were in reality.

Pizza? He got Pizza?

__

“Feeling better?”, Mr Laufeysond asked once you had entered the living-area.

“Yes, thank you.”, you nodded, looking at the scene in front of you:

The whole kitchen was filled with pizza-cartons of all different sizes with different pizzas in it.

WTF?!

“I did not know which one you liked, so I ordered one of every kind I have heard of.”, he explained with a sorry look in his eyes, “Eat whatever you like.”

Hesitant you searched for your favorite kind and took a bite; it tasted wonderfully and for a little moment you were able to forget why you were there.

“It is time for me to explain, right?”, the man breathed, his eyes first cast to the floor only to move to the ceiling before settling on yours, awaiting your approval.

“I am what people call a Dominant. I like being in control. But what I like and need just as much is to take care of people; that they are depending on me . You may call it me a Sugar Daddy, if you have ever heard of it.”

“I don´t understand- Does that mean, you like forcing people to follow your every order, and to have nothing? You enjoy the suffering of others, just so you can play the knight in shiny armour?”, you hissed, your fists balled in anger.

“No- and yes. Usually this arrangement is made in both sides consent. The Sugarbaby gets monthly or weekly allowance, presents or getting things payed for. In the meantime, she offers her Daddy favors like joining him to dinners, parties, holidays and other things-”

“-like sex?”, you finished his sentence in shock.

“Yes, like sex or other sexual favors. But listen, before you panic, there are borders set- not negotiable boarders .”

“NO- nonononononono. So I am a glorified whore?”, you broke with a sob.

“NO! As I said, these things are made in consent of both sides. I would and will not ask that from you, or anyone else, without being 100 percent sure it is what they want as well.”

Tears streamed down your face when you spoke again, “ Then why threatening me in the first time.”

“You would not have accepted any help if I had offered, right? It is part and job of a good Sugardaddy, or any Dominant in particular, to know what is best for his Baby or Submissive. Even if they don´t or do not want to know it.”, he continued,”After I had kicked you out Bucky and Sam asked me if I had seen you. They told me what had happened and I realized my mistake. When I med you again, I decided to act. I admit I thought you to act and turn out like the others. I tried to make you show your real side . I failed in realizing you are who you are not not pretending to be someone else. If you want: you can leave. No police and you will never see me again. I will arrange for you to move towns of you wish. But my offer stands. You will join me at functions, dinner and lunch or other things. In return you keep your allowance, your  rooms and everything you already have at the moment. No sex or any sexual favors unless you offer them on your own. I can arrange for you to work a few hours if it makes you feel better. Your own apartment. Think about it. In the meantime I leave you alone and will stay somewhere else until you have decided. Just let Pietro or one of the others know when you are finished. The leftovers will be given to people living on the streets. Let me know how you decide. Until then this apartment is yours. Just, please do not go through my things.”, the man nodded almost submissively, before leaving you alone.

With the men´s words still lingering in your mind, you ate as much as you were able to , before sending Bucky a quick ´Thank you` and retiring into your room.

You settled onto your bed, no noises around you (except the one time when Bucky or Pietro must have entered to take the leftovers away), but sleep was evading you with everything running through your mind.

In the end, you called your aunt for advice. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, and she was the only one (next to your mom) you had still contact with at home.

“So, you got this offer as a PA. It requires you to move into the same house as your boss. Join him at functions and other things for  15k a month? And you don´t know if you want to, because he was an huge asshole at the beginning and you feel like selling yourself? Do I understand  that right?”, her gentle voice repeated what you had just told her over the phone.

“Yes.”

“Furthermore your asshole boyfriend left you the day before you were supposed to move in with him, and on top of that you lost your job, because someone with a gun was robbing your workplace?”

“Yes.”, you sighted, hearing it made it all sound even worse.

“One last Question: is he good looking?”

“I. I guess.”, you answered and were able to see the smirk she must have on her face that second through the phone.

“Then go for it. Put enough money aside , in case you need to quit, and enjoy it as long as it lasts. God knows you always work hard and care of others. Now care for yourself. Your Ma would say the same.”

“Hows her cancer?”

“The same. And now with your brother in Jail again- But enough of that depressing stuff.”, your aunt sighted.

“I will send you-”

“-nothing. My sister won´t accept a penny and you know that. The lot of you is just too stubborn for your own good.”

“Then at least let me give you money for me while I lived with you. Please-”

“Fine. But not more than 500 s month-”

“-a week-”

“Fine. As stubborn as the rest of us.”, she laughed ,” Love you munchkin. And stay strong in that big city of yours.”

“Love you, too Aunty. Call you once I have made a decision. And hug Ma from me.”

“Always. See you later.”

With your thoughts sorted, sleep stopped evading you and within minutes you had drifted into a deep slumber.

____

Your eyes sticky, you slumped into the kitchen, with your whole body still tired from the evening prior.

Fresh fruits and and different kinds of freshly baked goods (like bread rolls and croissants) greeted you the second you placed foot into it.

You knew Mr Laufeyson was behind this.

Shewing on a bite of bun with cheese topping , you typed a Message the owner of the Apartment and hit send.

´I made a decision. I will accept your offer, if I have your word to be allowed to change my mind at any second; without repercussions.´

It took less than a minute for him to answer: ´Of course. Pietro will bring you to my office once you are finished with your breakfast.´

You answered with a quick ,´okay. What should I wear?´

´Whatever you like and is suitable for an office.´- came his reply and your forehead almost hit the top of the table you were sitting at.

Office-friendly. Office-friendly. Let´s see if I can find anything in that closet of mine. I though with all that cloth-missing stuff in there that might turn out hard. Urg. I will need to go shopping. I hate that.

To your little surprise, did you find a pair of skinny jeans, a simple black t-shirt and a black strick-jacket.

This might work. Better than nothing I guess.

A knock sounded from the door between the floor and your room.

“(y/n), this is me, Bucky.”

“Come in.”, you called back and he did as you had told.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked at once, his voice warm but sad.

“Better, thank you. Again.”, you smiled.

“No, you should not thank me. I should apologize. If I had done my job correctly-”, he started though was interrupted by you at once.

“Stop. Just- just don´t let it happen again, okay?”, you hummed, “I am not mad with you.”

“I can do that. I am here to escort you to the boss.”

“Okay. Lead the way.”

Part 7

AN2.0 How will this turn our for the reader? And will her family make an appreance again in later chapters?

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

Thank you very much.

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc​@pacifyhxlsey​ @thankyoukarenclifford​

@thankyouforanonymity​  @punkrockhufflefluff​

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool  @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

MCU:

@yknott81​    @banner-and-bucky-are-life​ @forext20​ @dyanlzbb​  @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4​ @bitchwhytho​ @ladyofmyst​   @jilldsumner​ @momc95​ @appreciating-fanfics​

Sugar:

@bits-and-bobs-and-kawaii-stuffs @mimmie666​   @fullranchwolfoperator

@cluelessnitwhit​ @youknowitsclouds @his-paradox @purplerainharry​

@spootgaai2000 @iamsuperjenna​ @nikkipea​   @alexakeyloveloki @timelordy-fangirl2 @girrafeeeeeee

I couldnt tag a few of you… sorry.

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

#sugardaddy!loki #sugardaddy loki x reader #sugardaddy!au #Loki Laufeyson #MCU #Bucky

[sparklebitch]

The Choices You Make (Langst)

Summary: Lance has a choice to make. Only he doesn't know what it is, or what the consequences are.

A/N: Whattup I have a hundred prompts in my inbox but instead I wrote this bullshit. I hope you're all having a wonderful month. PLease donate to my ko-fi if you have $ please and thank you.

Trigger warnings are posted in the tags.

"Choose" The voice sent shivers down Lance's spine. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Lance looked around at the darkness that had spread around him, stretching into nothingness. He was paralyzed in fear. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. "Choose" the voice boomed, somehow louder this time. Lance's head felt like it was going to split in two.

"Wh- Who's there?" he managed to get out. His throat felt like it was closing up. He was sweating and shivering at the same time. He felt a wave of emotions rush over him, though they ran by so quick he couldn't identify them. Every hair on his body was standing on end. His heart rate had slowed almost to a stop, even though he knew it should be racing.

"Choose" the voice repeated, instead of answering Lance's question. Lance's head was nudged to the right where he saw seven colored buttons, like ones from a gameshow, resting on a table. Lance moved closer to inspect them. This time, his body moved when he wanted it to. Lance bent over and examined the objects on the table. They were colored, black, red, blue, green, yellow, pink, and orange. They were lit up, and contained the only light in the room. Lance shook his head and craned his neck, trying to find the voice.

"I don't understand" he said in confusion. "What am I doing here?"

"Choose" Lance threw up his hands in irritation.

"Can I get a little more detail!?" he shouted.

"Choose one" Lance glared at the ceiling.

"Can I leave if I choose one?" he asked. The voice stayed silent. He shook his head and grumbled to himself. He slid his eyes over the buttons and then let out a noise of exasperation. He didn't understand what this meant. After a few more minutes of Lance proding the voice for answers, and receiving none, Lance crossed his arms and poked a random button.

The light brightened as the others faded away. Lance shielded his eyes with his hand as the light continued to brighten, illuminating the room further. Beyond the light was more darkness. Lance stumbled back as the room grew brighter and brighter until Lance was enveloped in the bright red glow.

Then everything went black.

~   ~

"Lance. . . Lance, get up" Pidge shook Lance to wake him up. Lance groaned as his head lolled over onto his shoulder. He snorted in a very unattractive way and then shot up, staring wide eyed at Pidge.

"What? I'm awake! What?" he looked around and found that he was in the common room, sitting on the couch. His neck ached from sleeping while sitting up. He rubbed it as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Time for training" Pidge said as she left the room. Lance slowly followed her, glancing back at the spot he had just left with a frown.

"What. . . time is it?" Lance asked slowly.

"Late" Pidge said. "We started two hours ago. Shiro's been looking for you all morning. Did you sleep there all night?" Pidge asked. Lance furrowed his eyebrows. He honestly couldn't remember.

"I. . . guess" Lance scratched the back of his neck and followed Pidge into the training room. He was hit by the overwhelming scent of blood as he entered the room. He stumbled back, running into Coran who was rushing into the room with a large box.

"What--" Pidge exclaimed. Lance glanced over and saw Shiro standing over Keith. "What the hell happened!?" she exclaimed.

"Keith's hurt-!" Shiro said, panic evident in his voice. Lance saw a pool of blood beginning to run by him. Lance froze.

"Oh my god--"

"I'm fine." Keith insisted, gently pushing Shiro out of the way. "It's just a scratch" Lanced moved closer, now that he knew no one was badly injured, or worse, as he had thought.

"Hold still" Coran instructed as he knelt down next to Keith. He opened the box and pulled out a dark blue roll of some type of material. Lance's gaze traveled over to Keith, who was sporting a fairly deep cut on his upper arm. It was clear not 'just a scratch'.

"What happened?" Pidge repeated. Coran moved around Keith so he could better reach his injury, forcing Shiro to move out of the way. Shiro's face was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up.

"I- I- I don't know how- We were fighting and- and--" He clenched his fists at his sides and glanced at the sword that was laying a few feet away from them, covered in Keith's blood. "I thought it was a practice sword. . ." he said quietly, his face full of guilt.

"It's not your fault" Keith said, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't even hurt!" His words would've been more convincing if he hadn't tensed and squeezed his eyes shut as Coran wrapped the material around his arm. The dark blue bandage turned orange as soon as it was around Keith's arm, and it tightened until it was hugging his skin, stopping the bleeding.

"There. That should do it" Coran announced.

"Wh- Wait, why aren't you putting him in a pod?" Lance asked, having recovered from the shock of what just happened. Coran's face darkened for a moment.

"It's the strangest thing" he said, scratching his chin. "I checked on them this morning, making sure they were in order, but the powers out on them"

"All of them?" Shiro asked, straightening up.

"Yes" Coran nodded. "Strangest thing" he muttered as he began to pack up his supplies.

"That's. . . not good. Right?" Shiro asked. "Has that ever happened before?"

"No, it hasn't" Coran replied without lifting his head.

"Should we be worried?" Keith asked, still sitting on the ground.

"No, no, no" Coran said, waving his hand at Keith. "Not to be worried. I'm sure. . ." he trailed off for a moment and then shook his head. "I'm sure it's just a fluke in the power system. Should be on any moment now. Nothing to worry about" With that, he grabbed his box and rushed out of the room.

"Good" Shiro said, sighing in relief. "Everything's going to be fine" he said, though Lance couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure them or himself.

"Right, fine" Lance said.

Still, something seemed off.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. They continued to train, preparing for their next mission which was to happen in a few days. Keith sat on the sidelines with a pout on his face. He hated being excluded, even though it was because he was injured.

Later that night, after dinner and a few hours of just sitting around with everyone, Lance headed off to bed. As he busied himself with his nightly routine his mind wandered back to the dream he had had the previous night. It was so bizarre that Lance couldn't make sense of it. The strange voice, having to choose a button, he didn't understand any of it. After racking his brain for a while Lance recalled that he had pushed the red button before being woken up by Pidge. He shrugged it off and collapsed on his bed, exhausted from the day of training.

As Lance closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, he could see a faint red light shining behind his eyelids.

~   ~

"Choose" Lance's blood ran cold. He was in the dark room again, that seemed to stretch on for miles. In front of him, the seven lights on the table, casting strange shadows all around the endless room.

"Again?" Lance grumbled. He crossed his arms and frowned. He knew that dreams sometimes correlated with something that was happening in his life. Obviously this had something to do with making a decision, but he didn't know what decision it was. There was nothing in his life at that time that had anything to do with making a decision. His life was pretty straightforward at the moment. He slept, he ate, he trained, he fought, and he'd go back to sleep. That was it. No big life changing choices that needed to be made.

Lance shook his head as he stood there in front of the lights. He looked back and forth across the seven lights and slowly came to rest on the pink one. He shrugged his shoulders and pushed it without another thought. The room was immediately bathed in pink light. It was kind of beautiful. Lance cracked a small smile before everything went dark.

~   ~

Lance had almost forgotten about the dreams. He woke up and went about his normal routine that day without anything unusual going on. It wasn't until after dinner that Lance was reminded of the strange dreams that he had been having. Hunk and Pidge had been working on a new weapon all morning, incorporating Altean technology into. They enlisted Allura to help them with the Altean tech. Lance had been nowhere near the room when it happened, but he heard the screams.

He rushed straight to the room, arriving at the same time that Keith did. Shiro and Coran had already entered the room. Again, Lance's nose was hit with the thick scent of blood. His face fell as he braced himself for what he was about to see.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god" Hunk whimpered over and over to himself. He had his head cradled in his hands, facing the wall. His clothes were splattered in blood. Lance followed the trail of blood on the ground to the source. Allura was sprawled out on the ground, a large metal object resting on her chest. Smaller pieces of metal had splintered from the original object, some protruded from Allura's skin, some were embedded in the wall and floor.

"A- Allura" Pidge said breathlessly, her face a mask of horror. Lance held his breath as he waited for Coran to examine Allura. Before he had finished checking her out she was waking up.

"Wh- What happened?" she moaned as she tried to roll over. Shiro and Keith rushed to her side to pull the heavy metal object off her. She cried out in pain.

"Shh, try not to move, Princess" Coran instructed. He assessed her injuries. He concluded that aside from the minor cuts and bruises from the debris that came off the projectile, and some major bruising to her abdomen, she was alright.

"So, she's going to be okay?" Hunk asked quietly after Shiro and Coran had carefully moved her to the infirmary where she could be patched up.

"Yeah," Lance murmured, rubbing Hunk's arm comfortingly. "Coran said that she's going to need to stay in bed for a few days to heal, but she's going to be alright" he said. Hunk sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"This is so crazy" he said, his voice muffled through his hands. "The one time the healing pods are down Keith gets hurt, and now Allura? When was the last time any of us got hurt and now it's two days in a row?"

"Yeah" Lance said, a frown forming on his face. The wheels in his head were turning. It was a weird coincidence. A though tickled the back of his mind, but he quickly forgot it as Keith strode back into the room.

"Is she okay?" Hunk asked lifting his eyes to Keith. Keith scratched the back of his neck with his uninjured arm.

"Yeah, she, uh, yelled at me and said that we all need to get some rest before our mission tomorrow. She said just because she won't be there to boss us around it doesn't mean we can goof off" Lance grinned and pat Hunk on the shoulder.

"See? She's already back to her old self. It's all going to be alright" Hunk's shoulders slumped.

"Yeah, I guess you're right" he said. "But still, it feels like we're cursed or something" Lance laughed nervously and looked away.

~   ~

Lance opened his eyes and felt his heart drop in his chest.

Again.

One table. Seven lights. An endless room. The feeling of dread seeping into his bones.

One dream he could shrug off as nothing. Two dreams? Sure. But three dreams in a row? This had to be something, but Lance couldn't figure out what.

"Choose" Lance let out a short breath and shook his head.

"Why?" he asked. "I don't understand. What is this? What does this all mean?" His voice echoed quietly through the room. After waiting a few minutes of waiting for an answer, Lance stepped up to the table. He examined the buttons, trying to decipher what they meant. Suddenly a thought occurred. "What happens if I don't push one?" he asked. He had to wake up eventually. What happened if his decision tonight was not to decide at all. Would anything change? Would he continue to have these dreams?

"Choose one" the voice boomed. Lance wasn't sure, but it sounded like it was louder than before. Lance crossed his arms defiantly and shook his head.

"No" he said. He took a step back away from the table and waited.

It was a few minutes before he felt it.

It started in his chest. A weird tingling feeling. Soon it spread through his whole body. He could feel it in his toes, his teeth, his head. The tingling slowly morphed into full out burning. Lance dropped his arms and began squirming around, trying to get the feeling to go away. The uncomfortableness rapidly turned to pain. Lance let out a whimper and began scratching his skin.

"Stop" Lance cried out as the pain became more intense. "Please, stop!" he couldn't take it.

"Choose!" The voice demanded. Lance shook his head harder and then turned and ran from the table, off into the darkness. The ran as fast as he could, but when he turned around, he saw that the table hadn't moved at all. He couldn't get away.

Lance was in tears now. He was struggling to breathe. "Okay!" he said through his tears. "I'll choose, just please make it stop!" Lance lunged forward and slapped the button that was closest to him. He collapsed on the ground as the room was cast in the glow of that light. The pain continued to grow until Lance couldn't move. "I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "I'm sorry I won't do it again! I'm sorry!" Lance dug his fingers into his leg as his vision faded and everything faded to black.

~   ~

Lance was dazed the next day. He could still feel the electricity lingering in his body. Today, unlike the past few, Lance remembered every moment of the dream he had. Every excruciating detail. He had to shake it off though. They had a mission to do.

"Lance what are you doing?" Keith hissed. Lance blinked and looked around. He ducked his head so he was hidden behind the stack of crates. "Are you trying to get killed!?" he asked. Lance muted the intercom. He didn't need to hear his complaints. Lance tightened his grip on his bayard and peeked around the corner. When he was sure the coast was clear and darted across the room to where Shiro was hiding.

"Are you okay?" Shiro asked Lance when he had his back pressed against the wall next to him.

"Uh," Lance cleared his throat. "Yeah"

"Good. Lance, make sure you're focused. We can't afford to make any mistakes today" Lance nodded. He knew Shiro was just looking out for him. This mission was important. And without Allura there it was going to be that much harder.

"I'm ready" he said firmly. Shiro glanced at Lance cautiously but then nodded. He signaled to Hunk and Pidge to get ready to move. They scanned the room, waiting for the right moment, and then charged toward the door. Hunk and Lance took out some of the guards with their guns from their position at the back of the room, while Shiro and Keith took out the rest in hand to hand combat. Pidge ran through the battle and began hacking into the security system attached to the door.

It only took a few minutes for the paladins to make it the rest of the way through the galra base, taking out soldiers on their way through. Once they made it to the control center Pidge pulled the data that they needed off the computers and they quickly escaped the base before the galra could call for backup.

Lance was in a weird fog the entire mission, and the entire way back. He was so out of it that he almost didn't hear the scream when he stepped out of his lion. He froze when he finally heard it. It was coming from across the hangar. Shiro ran by Lance in the direction of the scream. Lance took off as soon as he saw why Shiro was running.

Pidge was sprawled out on the ground, her forearm snapped into an unnatural angle.

Everyone, save for Allura, was at her side in an instant. Before Lance could even blink Coran and Shiro were moving her to the infirmary. All Lance saw was a protruding bone and the steady drip of blood. When Lance shook off the initial shock he turned to Hunk, who was also in a state of shock.

"Wh- what just happened?" he stuttered. Hunk's face was pale as he stared at the puddle of blood from where Pidge had landed.

"She- she just- she just fell" he said weakly. "She tripped when she was getting out of her lion and- she fell" Hunk shook his head, still staring at the ground. "I- I- We should. . . I should clean this up" he said numbly. Lance got a mop and a bucket and help Hunk clean up the blood before the two headed to the infirmary to see how Pidge was.

Shiro was standing outside the door as Lance and Hunk approached. "How is she?" Hunk asked nervously.

"Her radius and ulna s- snapped in two places" Shiro said faintly. "Coran says he can put them back in place and that she'll. . . she'll be okay. But she'll have to wear a cast for a while"

"Will this affect Voltron?" Keith asked as he came down the hall. He had gone to let Allura know what had happened.

"I don't think so" Shiro said. She should still be able to fly, as long as she's careful" Keith nodded.

Lance bit his lip as he took everything in. Three days in a row something had happened. Lance couldn't shrug this off as a coincidence anymore, but he wasn't sure what it was.

It was a few hours later that Coran finally finished the surgery on Pidge. None of them moved from their spot near the door. They all straightened up when Coran opened the door.

"How is she--" Shiro asked, but he was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

"We're cursed!" Pidge shouted as Coran led her out of the infirmary. Her arm was in a purple cast, and she had a sort of makeshift sling that held it close to her body.

"Pidge, are you alright?" Shiro asked worriedly.

"Cursed!" she repeated her eyes wide.

"Pidge." Coran chastised. "Don't say such things. We're not cursed" Pidge scratched her upper arm, right above where the cast ended.

"Uh, yeah we are" she retorted. "I've been through how many battles, how many fights, and I break my- MOTHER- FUCKING--"

"Calm down" Keith interjected.

"ARM because I TRIPPED" She continued shouting without hesitation.

"Pidge, you tripped. It's not like a vengeful ghost picked you up and threw you into a wall" Hunk pointed out. "It was a freak accident"

"Freak accident?" Pidge asked. "What about you, Keith?" She asked, pointing to his arm which still had the bandage wrapped securely around it. "Or Allura? She's still on bed rest. Are these all freak accidents? That this all started happening right as the healing pods stopped working?" Everyone fell silent. Lance went completely still. The others continued to talk around him, but he couldn't hear them. The gears in his head started turning. Keith. Allura. Pidge. Keith. . . Allura. . . Pidge. . .

Red. Pink. Green.

Lance's blood ran cold. He felt so stupid. It was so clear now. His dreams. The buttons. Every time he pushed a button that person got hurt. It seemed crazy, but that was what was happening. He was the reason that his friends were getting hurt.

He had to find a way to stop this from happening again.

~   ~

Lance stayed awake as long as he could that night, but exhaustion was clawing at his bones. His body felt heavy as he sank onto his bed, his heavy eyelids falling. It was like the sleep was literally pulling him down.

When Lance opened his eyes next he saw the now familiar table in front of him, seven lit buttons adorning it. He stared at it helplessly. It seemed that there was no escape from this. He couldn't stay awake forever, clearly something wanted him to be asleep. To make these choices. But why? Why him? Why now?

"Choose" The voice said in it's usual booming but monotone voice.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Lance asked firmly. He wasn't making any more decisions before he got some answers. Lance gazed up at the dark sky above him. It was completely devoid of any light, any movement. But Lance knew that the voice was coming from somewhere. "Why are you making me hurt my friends? What kind of sick game is this!?" his voice grew louder with every word. Rage had been building up in his chest, and was now beginning to spill into his throat.

"Who are you?" he continued shouting at the voice. "What are you? What can you possibly gain from making me hurt my friends?" As mis mind continued to race, Lance started to feel the sharp tingle of electricity begin to course through his veins. He ignored it and continued. "No, you can't scare me off this time!" he shouted. "I'm not leaving until you tell me why"

"Choose One" He grit his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides as he slowly backed away from the table. He knew it was no use, the table wasn't going to move, but he had to try something.

"What happens if I don't listen?" he asked. "Is this all you got? Some electricity? Go ahead. I heard death by electrocution isn't all that bad" he bluffed. He actually had no idea if it was painful or not. He was terrified of dying, but he couldn't bear to be the reason for his friends getting hurt. And their injuries seemed to be escalating by the day. How much further would it go before someone died?

"Choose. One."  The voice commanded. It almost sounded angry. Lance felt the electric feeling in his bones intensify. It was so strong that it brought him to his knees.

"You can't make me do this!" Lance cried out. Sweat was dripping off his body onto the cold ground. Lance held out until he could no longer control his body. He was in so much pain that he collapsed on the floor. As Lance writhed around on the floor, in more pain than he ever thought possible, he stared up at the ceiling through teary eyes and sobbed. "There has to be another way! I don't want to hurt anyone!" He was crying in pain now, but he still saw it. The glow of the colored buttons on the table shifted. All the colors faded but one.

The blue one.

Lance fell completely silent, and the pain immediately ceased. He slowly lifted himself off the floor and stepped up to the table. Without a single thought, he pushed the button.

~   ~

The next few days were a flurry of pain for Lance. Each day, the pain increased more and more. He could barely function, but still, he pushed the blue button. He refused to inflict this pain on anyone else. He couldn't hurt anyone else. The first day, he tripped on his way to dinner and sprained his ankle. Shiro chastised him, saying that he should be more careful. They didn't have the healing pods to fall back on anymore. The next day, on a mission, a Galra soldier his Lance in the eye with his gun. Lance's vision was blurred, and it was possible that the damage was permanent, it was impossible to tell without the pods. The next day it was a blow to the leg during practice that would not stop bleeding. Coran had to change the bandage on it five times before it finally stopped, but still, it continued to throb every time Lance moved. His body was battered and torn. He was tired. So tired.

The next day was the worst. Lance was still adjusting to not being able to see out of his right eye. He was so preoccupied with looking in his lion for the tool that Hunk needed that he wasn't watching where his feet were. As he moved to leave the lion he slipped on the ramp and fell down, first hitting his head on a tool cabinet and then ramming his side into a metal pole. Lance rolled to the floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

It was hours before anyone found him. Whey they did, they found that Lance had a major concussion and internal bleeding. Coran ended up having to perform surgery on Lance to stop the bleeding. He woke up in a bed in the infirmary. Coran and Hunk were sitting by his side.

"Is he going to be okay?" Lance heard Hunk ask.

"I believe so" Coran responded. "I stopped the bleeding in his chest, but he has a major concussion. We should keep a close eye on him over the next few days"

"He's been getting hurt a lot lately. . . I'm worried" Hunk said, the concern evident in his voice.

"Don't be" Coran said. "He's just clumsy. I'm sure he'll be fine" Coran's tone left no room for negotiation. Hunk let out a sigh. Lance furrowed his brow and let out a groan as he attempted to turn his head and open his eyes.

"Whoa, whoa" Hunk rushed to Lance's side and put his hand on Lance's arm. "Relax, you're alright. You're going to be alright" Lance blinked his eyes open. His right eye was still blurry, maybe worse than before, Lance wasn't sure. His body ached and his head was pounding.

"Wh- at happened?" Lance squeaked.

"You fell" Hunk said.

"Yes, you really do need to be more careful" Coran chimed in. "You have a severe concussion and you had some internal bleeding. I had to go in a stop it, but you should be fine" Lance pinched his lips together and laid his head back on the pillow. Concussion. Internal bleeding. How much more of this could he take? How many more times could he get injured like this before his body couldn't take it anymore? Before he was hurt so badly he couldn't be healed?

~   ~

Lance eased himself down on the bed gingerly. Hunk had suggested that Lance stay in the bed in the infirmary, but Lance told him that the bed was hurting his back, so, with a little help from Hunk, he moved back to his room.

The bandage that was wrapped completely around Lance's middle seemed to pull tighter and tighter as he readjusted his body on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. Every part of him was in pain.

Lance let out a ragged breath as his head hit the pillow. His body felt heavy. Too heavy. For a brief, dark, moment Lance considered pushing a different button tonight. Just to give himself a break. A moment to heal. But he quickly dismissed the idea. He couldn't knowingly do that to someone. They didn't deserve it.

But still, Lance wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

With that thought in his mind, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~   ~

"Choo--" Lance waved his hand as the voice spoke.

"I know the drill" Lance said with a sigh. He slowly drug himself over to the table. He stared at the lights for only a moment before he reached over to push the blue button again.

"Stop" The voice said. Lance froze. He'd never heard the voice say anything other than 'choose' or some variation of that. "Choose one" the voice said. Lance furrowed his eyebrows. "Choose one to die" Lance felt ice run through his veins.

Choose one to die.

The blinding glow of the blue light below him seemed to shine brighter, the others paling in comparison. Lance couldn't move. What was he supposed to do? Lance's hand retracted and hovered near his hip. His eyes roamed over the lights. To die. He was going to die.

But what if. . .

Lance shook his head quickly and clenched his fists at his sides.  

"Wh- why are you doing this to me?" Lance asked, his voice cracking. The voice, as predicted, remained silent. Lance knew that his attempts were futile. The voice never gave him the answers he wanted.

Lance, in a last ditch effort, turned and sprinted off into the dark. His body, not burdened by his injuries in this boundless room, moved quickly through the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder and saw, to his surprise, that the lights were growing smaller in the distance. A small bud of hope grew in his chest.

But, when he turned back he ran smack into the table. He doubled over and rubbed his chest in pain. He let out a helpless scream.

"Why me!?" he shouted into the void. His question was met with silence. Lance shook off the pain of running into the table and turned back to it. He let his gaze wander over all the lights. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. They were all in a row. All the same as they were every night. But it wasn't the same, not really. Tonight, the consequences of his actions were much larger.

Already, Lance could feel the familiar burn of electricity coursing through his veins from taking too long to decide. Lance grit his teeth. "I'm getting to it" he ground out. Lance took a deep breath, staring at the blue light, which was practically pulsing at this point. It was the obvious answer. He couldn't be the cause of someone's death. He could never live with himself for taking an innocent life. "Is this the only way?" Lance asked. "Does someone have to die?"

"Choose one" the voice responded. "To die" Lance closed his eyes and nodded. He lifted his hand and hovered it over his button. The blue light brightened in response, illuminating the room further than it ever had before. Lance's body was cast in the glow. Lance blinked the tears out of his eyes and began to lower his hand.

Suddenly, something ran though his mind. He didn't know where it came from. A name. It echoed in his head like a voice in a canyon. Lance's hand lifted without him moving it. His eyes flickered to the other button. The urge to push it was so strong, that Lance's hand moved away from his own button, seemingly at its own accord. Lance felt sick. Why. . .

Why him?

Lance didn't understand. He would never hurt anyone else on purpose. The moment he realized that pushing these buttons meant inflicting pain on someone, he only pushed his own. He knew that he could never live with himself if he was the cause of someone else's death.

So why did he pushed the orange button?

~   ~

Lance bolted upright, awake in an instant. A breath caught in his throat as he felt a pain on his neck, and heard a thud on the floor. He pulled his hand back and saw blood. He didn't want to look at what was on the floor. He knew what he was going to see.

Still, it surprised him to find Coran lying on his floor with a knife gripped in his hand, not breathing. His lifeless eyes staring. They were the only thing that seemed wrong about him. The reason that Lance reached for his tablet and called Allura.

Coran's eyes were jet black.

"Allura" Lance said shakily. "Something happened"

~   ~

Allura came immediately and after moving Coran's body to the infirmary, Lance sat down with her outside the room to explain what had happened. He told her everything. About the dreams and the injuries, he made sure to stress that once he found out that his dreams were causing the injuries he only pushed his own. He didn't want to hurt anyone else.

"Explain to me again about tonight" Allura said with a frown. They were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall now. It had to be almost morning, and neither of them had slept. They hadn't woken the others yet. Allura wanted to understand before she let them know what had happened.

"Tonight was different" he began again. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "The voice told me to choose, like always and just before I pushed the blue one it told me to 'choose one to die'" he explained. "I stopped, but only because my body froze. I- I didn't want to die but--" he choked out. Allura nodded, though her face didn't give any indication of what she was thinking. "Then. . . something came over me. I don't know what it was. I knew that if I didn't push Coran's button. . . I- I don't know but I knew that I had to push it" he unconsciously rubbed the bandage that was on his neck, covering the area that Coran had cut with the knife. "And- and when I woke up. . ." he trailed off. Allura knew what happened after that.

"Are you absolutely sure that's how all this happened?" she asked firmly. "And you said that his eyes were black when he- when he died?" Lance nodded vigorously.

"And he was weird before. . . I know he's strange but he's been fidgety and weird the past week that all this has been happening" Lance pulled his knees up to his chest and began gently rocking himself back and forth. He kept remembering Coran's body dropping to the floor next to him. He had done that. He killed him. The only thing he didn't understand was why had Coran been holding a knife to his neck?

"I can't believe he's really gone" Allura said, grief filling her face and her voice.

"I'm so- sorry" Lance said. His eyes filled with tears. She was probably going to throw him out now. He had killed her only tie to her old life. There was no way she would let him continue to be a paladin of Voltron now. There was nothing he could say to her to make this right. He couldn't fix this. He had killed someone, even though he hadn't physically killed anyone, it was his fault.

"Lance, Coran was gone long before you pushed the button" she said. Lance paused and turned at her in confusion. She continued before he could say anything. "I know you don't know much about Altean culture, but there is much lore about creatures, much like your. . . oh, what did Pidge call them?" Allura mused. "Who-wolves?" she guessed.

"Werewolves?" Lance asked. She nodded.

"Ah, yes, those" she said. "We have tails of fearful Bilgos, and deadly Engas, the mystical Yonzud and. . . Koqund" Allura said. Lance felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck as she said the last one. He looked up at her, his eyes wide. She nodded. "That's who it was" She said. It wasn't a question.

"Wh- what is that?" Lance asked breathlessly.

"Koqund is the most feared being" she said, his voice lowering. "She is a wicked temptress who meddles with mortal lives for her own sick pleasure. She takes pride on inflicting misery on her prey" Lance fell silent as he listened to Allura. "Koqund devises scenarios, much like your dreams, where what you choose to do in it will affect those around you" Allura continued. "When she grows tired of the game, she kills the individual and everyone around them" she said quietly.

"But- but that's not what happened" Lance said. "We're still alive" Except for Coran. Lance left those words unspoken, but both of their eyes drifted to the door behind them.

"Koqund chooses a host, and a victim" Allura said, resting her hands on her lap. "She latches on to them both. She feeds off the host, inhabiting their body, and inflicts mental and physical pain on the victim. Once the victim chooses to kill himself, she kills the rest and moves on to a new group of people" She cleared her throat. "You were the victim, and Coran. . . must've been the host"

"So. . . when I killed him instead of myself. . .?"

"She no longer could feed off her host, and was forced to move on. She didn't have enough power to kill us. You- you saved us, Lance" Lance's face broke.

"But Coran-!" Allura put her hand on Lance's shoulder and forced him to look at her.

"Lance, you have to understand. Coran was dead the moment that demon entered his body. He's been gone for a long time. This isn't your fault. You didn't kill him" Lance buried his face in his hands. It didn't matter how many times she said it, he was always going to feel that guilt deep in his heart.

After all, he was the one that pushed the button.

"Lance, if I may ask, why did you choose yourself?" Allura asked. "Why did you take all the pain?"

"I- I didn't want anyone else to get hurt" Lance stuttered. "I couldn't watch you all get hurt because of me" Allura's lips parted as she realized something.

"Koqund must've seen that" she said. "She must've known that you were going to suffer through the pain yourself alone. That's why she made Coran go into your room to kill you. She was going to end the game because she was bored" Lance shook his head. Hearing Allura's explanation of what happened hadn't helped. It didn't make him feel any better about things. He had still killed his friend. Someone who had done nothing but support him and look after him when everyone else left. Knowing that Coran was possessed by this Koqund didn't make it better. It just let Lance know that Coran hadn't been guilty. He wasn't in control of his actions.

Logically he knew that if he had chosen himself to die, the others would have been killed by the being soon after, but still. He felt like he had made the wrong decision. He had killed one of his friends. Someone died because of a decision he had made.

Yes, he was alive. Allura and the other paladins were alive. But Coran was not.

He caused the death of an innocent man.

He was going to have to live with his choice for the rest of his life.

~   ~   ~

| Other fics | Ko-fi |

#prompts #langst #lance #voltron #voltron lance #lance angst #voltron angst #mine #tw #trigger warning #injury tw #blood tw #death tw #death mention

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

Traps

Request: Could you write a fic with Chekov please? I need more of the Russian nugget in my life. Possibly a fic where Chekov and reader go on an away team and they get in danger and the reader is badass and saves them?

A/N: We all always need more of the Russian nugget in our lives. 

Fallen leaves crunched under your boots. As much as you loved being on the Enterprise, you desperately missed fall. While this may not be the autumn you were used to, the leaves were still changing colors, the air was still crisp, and the wind still brought a smell of earthiness. The whole thing put you in the mood to wear sweaters and eat something pumpkin flavored.

Something peeking out between the leaves on the trees that lined the right side of the path caught your attention.

Lifting up a branch to get a better look, you smiled, “Well, hello there.”

“What?” Chekov stopped a few paces ahead of you. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” You looked at him with a glint in your eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked. “Let’s go find out.”

“But-” he looked back at the rest of the team steadily getting farther and farther away.

“Oh, come on.” You move aside a few more branches to give yourself enough room to pass through. “We’re explorers, aren’t we? Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”

��Now you have jinxed it and if I don’t come, you will die.”

“Then I guess you’d better come along,” you grinned, making your way to the other side of the tree line.

Keeping your arm up behind you, you held the branch out of his way long enough for him to get through. You stood shoulder to shoulder with wide-eyed, slack-jawed looks pasted on both of your faces.

“We are about to be ritualistic sacrifices, aren’t we?” Chekov asked in a hushed voice.

You turned your head towards him. The apprehensive look on his face pulled a laugh from your throat.

“No, we’re not going to be sacrificed.” You looked back at the ancient temple before you. The size of the structure and unfamiliar symbols carved into the stone face sent doubts running through your mind. “Probably.”

“Zat is what people always say before having their necks sliced open on an altar,” his voice was nervous and warning, but he followed you towards the carved stone regardless.

“You have got to stop watching those old horror movies with Sulu,” you muttered, crouching down to inspect the writing on the outside wall.

“I know,” he sighed. “I haven’t slept in a week.”

Shaking your head, you dusted off some of the dirt that covered the symbols.

This was at least the third time you had told him not to stay up all night watching scary movies. He agreed every time. And every time you would get a call the next night, because he was terrified that a clown was going to kill him or a man in a mask was in his quarters somewhere. It honestly blew your mind. You had watched him go face to face with Klingons, respond to serious threats with only a snarky comment, and kill an alien planet’s answer to spiders, but Scream Five he couldn’t handle.

“What does it say?”

“It tells of a prophecy.” You ran your hands along the symbols. “Centuries from when it was written, a boy with curly hair and in a bright yellow shirt would stumble across this sacred land. That boy,” you took a deep breath to emphasize the importance of your next words, “would be the biggest nerd to ever live.”

“You have no idea what it says,” he deadpanned. If it was anyone else you might have worried that he wasn’t going to put up with your ridiculousness much longer, but you put up with your share of his own personal brand of ridiculousness.

“Not a clue.” You straightened back up.

“I wonder who built zis place,” Chekov mused, leaning in through the door. “Zere is no intelligent life here.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He shot you a glare before turning to walk into the temple.

“Be careful. There could be booby traps,” you warned from the outside.

“I am not a booby,” he said matter of factly, “I will not be trapped.”

“That’s some pretty sound reasoning you got there.” You followed him over the threshold.

Cracks in the roof provided enough light to navigate the space and even make out some of the carvings on the walls. Chekov diligently held his tricorder out, keeping track of the readings in his hand. You held up a holocamera, just barely looking through the viewfinder with each picture.

“Maybe they all died,” you suggested, returning to his earlier question. “Went the way of the dinosaurs.”

He whipped his head around and gave you a wide eyed stare.

You only just kept yourself from snorting.

Sometimes you forgot how optimistic and innocent his world view was. You admired his ability to keep it up, even if it did get a little annoying.

“Why do you jump to extinction?” he asked, turning back to face where he was walking.

“I didn’t jump anywhere.” You snapped another photo. “I evaluated the facts and drew a reasonable conclusion.”

“They could have left ze world.” He paused, thinking over the facts for himself. “Been abducted.”

“The whole species?” you asked skeptically.

“Probably not,” he said defeatedly.

The corner of your mouth tipped up. You cast your eyes down to the cobblestone, trying to conjure up a more positive topic of conversation.

His foot hit a stone and it sank below the others.

A switch in your brain that you didn’t realise you had flipped and you jumped into to action. You lunged forward, wrapping an arm around the back of his torso and forcing him down. There was a split second before he hit the ground and anything happened, that you realised just how embarrassed you would be if nothing did happen. You were all ready to start blaming it on watching Indiana Jones or reading Adventure Hunters one too many times, when you heard something slice through the air above you.

Once you heard whatever it was bury itself in the opposite wall, you rolled off of him. He flipped over onto his back, and stared at the spears tied together with rope, now sticking out of the wall.

“Zat is a bit cliched, yes?” Chekov raised a hand to point at it.

“Totally.”

Getting to his feet and ducking under the rope, Chekov examined the trap. His expression shifted to one of complete focus, shock still peeking out at the edges. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him for a moment, before you could no longer contain the laugh bubbling up in your chest.

He leaned around the weapon to stare at you from beneath furrowed brows. “What?”

“You’re a booby,” you cackled, pointing at him.

“I am not!”

“Really?” you practically choked on your laughter. “‘Cause you boobied right into that trap.”

“You are a child,” Chekov scolded, coming over to help you up.

“Coming from you,” you took hold of his hand and let him haul you to your feet, “that’s pretty bad.”

“Vat is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a twelve year old,” you shrugged, getting control of your laughter.

Walking past you, he copied you in a mocking tone, “You’re a twelve year old.”

“Thank you for proving my point.” You followed him deeper into the temple.

“Zere is a life sign that way,” Chekov announced, changing the conversation. He held his tricorder up over his shoulder for you to see and pointed in the direction of the sign. “Want to see what it is?”

“Was radio invented in Russia?”

He threw his arms up excitedly into a v shape above his head and grinned, “Yes!”

A small smile graced your face as you watched a slight bounce enter his step.

“Vat do you think it vill be?”

“One eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater,” you answered without hesitation.

“Vat?”

“It’s from an old song.” His head bobbed in an understanding nod.   “You’d like it. I’ll show it to you when we get back.”

“It should be behind this wall.” Chekov stood millimeters from the stone wall, staring at it intently like he was expecting it to suddenly vanish.

“Must be outside.” You rested your elbow against a pedestal.

The unmistakeable sound of stone scraping against stone filled the small space. Closing your eyes, you silently prayed that what ever this was, it wasn’t too deadly.

“It appears you are also a booby,” Chekov murmured.

Snorting you opened your eyes.

The wall had slid away to reveal a small, enclosed courtyard. A few fruit trees partially blocked out the sun, the bricks that lined the perimeter were covered in deep scratches, but what had caught Chekov’s attention was a horned, four legged beast huffing on the other side.

“And it appears we are dinner,” he added.

“What makes you think it isn’t friendly?” you asked without taking your eyes off it.

“It has the look Doctor McCoy gives the Keptain when he missed his physical.” He instinctively threw an arm out in front of you as the thing began to charge.

Ducking around his stiff form and pulling your phaser from your belt in one swift movement, you aimed and fired. Without waiting to see if it was enough to render the beast unconscious, you grabbed Chekov’s hand with your free hand and darted towards the exit. You didn’t stop until you were back on the trail.

“Anything else you want to do before we get back to the ship?” you panted. “Steal a priceless artifact and replace it with a bag of sand? Wander into a bamboo pit viper trap?”

He thought on it for a moment before saying, “Punji sticks.”

“With our luck, we'll find some.”

He nodded, starting down the path, still holding your hand. “Zat place was a deathtrap.”

“If an engineer wants to get you by the balls, he will,” you quoted the old military saying in a serene voice. You  took in a deep breath of fall air, closing your eyes to enjoy the soft breeze. Despite having just run for your life, in this brief moment of alien autumn with your hand in his, you felt at peace.

#chekov x reader #chekov imagine #star trek #star trek imagine