#And another waltzing or any dancing with a partner

[the-devil-less-known]

Lucifer in turn would beloathe to admit that he was relieved at the reception, having spoken to fill the silence in an attempt to hide his nerves, questioning his selection. It was a piece he had favored, and connected with, though not as Astraea. It just reminded him of what he had done to another in the past.

Point was, it was rather personal, so the stillness leaving Alastor along with his usual remarks were encouraging, easing the tension in his shoulders. "Nah, it became common dirty habit amongst the young back then. Now imps are popular for that reason. For nobility, it's the thrill, not the person themself necessarily, though it helps. The bigger the scandal, the more it appeals."

Lucifer sets down his tumbler on the table while Alastor thought over what to request him, the warmth of the alcohol finally hitting with his relief, summoning them both a pitcher of water. Filling the glass, he takes careful sips, trying to match the piece to the name, tapping a hoof in thought. A few hums escape to different tunes before a section of the right one comes to mind, the bright dips and dreamlike swells. Da-dah, da-dah, da-dah-di-dah....

He can't help but chuckle some, "Oh, of course you pick one that would sound fantastic with a piano accompaniment. Of course, though, you will have to promise to play with me in the future. I would love to hear you play in turn, delightfully vicious mockery optional, of course. The by play can be dessert."

Tail setting down his glass, and now back to where he had been prior, Lucifer inhales, once more standing to attention. While before had been warming into playing a favorite, this was a piece he was only mostly certain to remembering from start to finish... but was enjoying the feel of it in his head, reminding him of sharing a waltz with Alastor in pacing and tone. The sweet wonder of something new and fantastical. Quick paced and eager in its delight.

Yes, he could remember it now.

His violin warbles, its sweet voice clear and lilting between his breaths and each pull of his bow, fingers teasing the strings as the notes flitted high, as free as a bird, and swooped low, lingering as any dip in a dance would. Carefree, imagining the strings of others joining him, a piano's accompanying song, in the dim lighting of the auditorium and spotlights trained on the stage —

Picking up fervor, he could almost imagine his hooves moving in time, quick stepping and following Alastor's lead, violin strings mimicking footsteps, dancing, stepping, quickly quickly, brightly, fast and fast, before slowing. Hurriedly, excited, youthful as any hot-blooded adult touching the dancefloor —

The colors sliding over his partner's face, eyes bright and fresh, arms steady and feet sure beneath them, spinning, turning, artful and quick over the wooden floor beneath light steps, unbound and unmoored in time, kept in check only by the confines of the song and stage —

Soft, soft, before becoming too excited once again, slower, slower, quieter, quieter, lingering... longing for something bittersweet and what must finally, always, come to an end, resisting. One more song, one more round, leading, leading, pulling for yet a little longer, fast, fast, pleading —

But, it will come to an end, it must, always end, and the inevitable no longer put off. The strings sing, and cry, lingering, hoping, for just a breath longer, to reclaim the hopeful sweetness of before... but alone, it remains from reach. Lucifer's eyes do not close, but he can picture it readily in his mind, of their movements coming to an end and dipping down, the little red violin's voice fading out as his bow slows...

And then stills, piece finished and the mood set, briefly, matching his emotions at being reminded that the dance could not always go on. Accepting, but rueful, always. Always wanting one more encore.

"...Fantastic choice."

That Lucifer pegs him as a masochist is probably not entirely inaccurate, but he will not give credence to the theory at the moment, too intrigued by the lesson or tale that the other sees fit to regale him with as he listens. He is not the sort of individual to interrupt a musical performance of any kind, really - so long as it is inoffensive and done with appropriate taste - and so he is silent, ears primed as he takes in the details that are shared with him throughout.

But the details of the story - the revelation of hellborn being the illegitimate manifestation of coupling between Goetia and Sinners - are not at the forefront of his mind, even if he does find the history and lore to be rather fascinating. That is not the prevailing theory, he imagines, given the more prominent belief that it is Lucifer who is responsible, and yet to Alastor, neither truly matter in the moment, his eyes not enraptured by the architecture of the room nor even the visualization of the characters - of Astraea and her unidentified lover - but instead at the way that Lucifer's fingers trail across the strings of the violin in his grasp.

The radio demon, a slave to his passion and love for music and storytelling both, is transfixed by the grace with which the Devil brings forth the tale in the spoken word and the notes which the violin emits with pointed expertise. As Lucifer continues, it is less that Alastor is wrapped up in the universe he is crafting, but in the fallen angel himself, effectively silenced by the emotion and stark seriousness with which he has committed himself to do justice to the subject matter. To the point where, by the time the tale has concluded and Lucifer caps the finality of its ending with his much less showy prattle, that Alastor is entirely speechless.

His chest rises and falls with a breathlessness he is not sure the source of, eyes locked between the violin in Lucifer's hold and the Devil's casual candor in the face of what Alastor deems to be no less than a display of musical beauty that he is not sure he is even worthy to have witnessed.

But he finds his voice before it becomes obvious that he is doing much more staring than listening, shaking himself back into his usual temperament (or struggling to) before he responds.

"...That is- quite the story," he says, fumbling slightly over his words as he tries to pluck out the details of what he has been told to hopefully convince Lucifer that he was listening. (He wasn't.)

"It seems even Hell's royalty is not entirely immune to falling in with the worst of us."

It is not meant to be an allegory in pointed observation of current company, but...

"You said you would be open to a request, didn't you? I think I may have one in mind. Are you familiar with Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale?"

It is a more popular piece, he will admit, but - Alastor is antsy to hear it performed right in front of him. It is not every day one gets the opportunity. And where his earlier demeanor may have been slightly nonchalant and disconnected in his gaze as he often is, those red eyes of his are now bright with interest, sitting properly upright in his seat as he keeps them on Lucifer. Unwavering.

Perhaps a bit hopeful?

[pinkvaquita]

ADDITION TO MY: "Shadow Milk SUCKS at singing but can fake being good at it"

Do you know what else he fakes being good at????

DANCING

Or at least dancing with a partner. Mostly because he follow his own rymth and ignores the one of his partner. When he dance alone he actually is quite decent. Enven if he only knows the classic "123, 123 123" and one or maybe two spins

And yes, it also looks good when his dancing partner is actually being controlled by his strings

[girlsworldillusion]

CLAIM - by Aemond Targaryen

+18 (seriously, no minors)

author's note: my first time writing for him, even though I've been in the fandom for a while now. (I hope this isn't the only one).

There you go, Aemond thinks with some bitterness.

Bright, innocent, pure. Tempting in annoying ways. Certainly a cute little thing to look at, though.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one who noticed this.

A warm, tingly ball curls in his stomach the more he watches you and your pathetic excuse for a partner during the waltz. Every delicate twirl you make around the grand ballroom sends shivers down his spine. The flushed dust high on your cheeks leaves his throat dry. The gentle smile you offer the Lord who smugly leads you through the dance makes his fist clench so tightly around the wine glass that Aemond is actually surprised he hasn't shattered the thing into a thousand pieces yet.

Aemond is not jealous, however. Aemond doesn't get jealous - being jealous is wanting something someone else has, and he has everything he needs, a lot of enviable things, to be honest. (That's what he tells himself, sipping some wine and sending icy daggers toward the man who insists on holding your waist tighter and tighter).

He's not jealous. He just doesn't like it when others covet what's his - or what should be his.

You, another Lady with a prestigious name. Theoretically there were many like you, it's true. But to Aemond, you always stood out. Unique, special. It is a great inconvenience that others also think this way.

Aemond was trying to be a gentleman here. He was purposely going slow so as not to scare you; innocent walks in the garden, subtle conversations about a book you both recently read, an unassuming invitation for afternoon tea (although he doesn't even like tea).

He was already exhausting the limits of his own patience and he still didn't get any real sign that you reciprocated his interest in you. You are kind and lovely, of course. But that's how you are with everyone around you. This, in itself, is no guarantee of absolutely anything for him.

Aemond was trying to be patient. Gods, he really was. But with each passing day he found himself more and more tormented by thoughts and fantasies about you. His mind is playing tricks on him, pushing the limits of his self-control to the point where he feels like he might snap like a stretched rubber band.

And it is on these nights, when everyone in the Red Keep is already asleep and he is absolutely certain that he is finally alone with his own demons - that he gives in.

He closes the only eye he has left to keep from seeing the shamefully needy descent of his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, only for it to become a fleeting, innocuous thought a few seconds later, because there it is again; that all-encompassing, overwhelming feeling that makes him see stars every time.

He palms his straining erection wet with precum, imagining it's your tiny hand there - or your pretty mouth, your tight pussy. The mere thought of it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine and makes him part his lips in a husky sigh.

He thinks of you, over and over again; in hurried and repetitive steps, like someone lost in a maze.

Your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, your sweet voice begging for him...

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond-

Aemond writhes on the sheets, panting, shaking with it, his toes curled against the bed; his hips twitching with each wave of pleasure along his shaft trapped between his fingers. In the waves of euphoria, he throws his other arm over his eye, hides his sapphire and his personal decay like a secret, panting, getting close, so close, fuck, fuck...

It's sweet torture, after all. Spills out onto his own stomach and sheets instead of where he really wants to be.

But he can handle it. All to be a gentleman for you. All to endure the long, agonizing (and embarrassing) wait while you happily accept his invitations to teas and walks in the gardens and entertain him with your witty anecdotes about the latest book you read -

Although you never give him a concrete answer about your feelings for him.

He's trying to hold on.

But you need to pressure him, don't you?

He grits his teeth and narrows his gaze when the man waltzing with you leans down to say something close to your ear.

This isn't new to him, of course.

Aemond is used to having to fight to get what he wants. Nothing really comes easy for him. But there is something about the arduous trajectory of his personal achievements that no one is able to deny.

Once claimed, it's his forever.

That's it, enough of trying to be a gentleman - Aemond hums as he uses the rim of his wine glass to hide the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

.

"Oh, baby."

He is against you.

Pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass so you can feel how hard his cock is in his pants.

He's laughing in your ear.

Mocking.

"You like that, don't you, girl?" he asks, in a dark whisper after cornering you in one of the castle's corridors, blocking your walk to your chambers. He deposits words laced with malice and honey into his husky voice, whispered against the shell of your ear.

You shudder against him.

He's rubbing himself against you. His cock rubbing explicitly against the curve of your ass, while his fingers squeeze your throat, pulling the back of your head to his shoulder.

"You're mine," he says, his voice full of possessiveness. Like he was on the verge of losing it. He already lost.

You cry out softly, feeling him squeeze your throat again. Harder this time.

"Nobody touches you from now on. Got it?"

He's nuzzling into your hair. Lost in the tickle of your strands on his face, in your sweet smell in his nose.

You shake your head somehow even with his firm grip on your throat and he laughs against your hair.

A low, harsh laugh, a wicked sound that rumbles straight from his throat as he leans down to leave a single kiss on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours to give a light tug.

"Good girl."

.

You open your mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a well-rehearsed argument, words too soft and genuine to compete with the sound of Aemond's hips slamming violently between your thighs - but all all you can do is a low, breathless meow.

"You smell like him," Aemond huffs coldly, though it's more of a breathy grunt.

Maybe there is a certain amount of exaggeration in his words, you don't smell like him. Not really. But the simple memory of that man's hands on your waist and his face close to yours to whisper anything was awakening a dangerous euphoria in Aemond's veins.

He tries hard to at least pretend to be easy, to at least pretend to have some control over the situation. Struggling silently to remain composed, as if he wasn't finally fucking the woman he's wanted for a long time at a brutal pace, as if your scent and your tears weren't permanently staining his sheets right now, as if he wasn't squeaking his teeth to keep from spilling too soon at the mere thought of having permanent physical proof that you were here - right in the bed where he sleeps every night. Aemond feigns an indifference and coldness that are not real.

But he's trying.

He is under the intense watch of your drunken, half-closed gaze, and tries hard not to embarrass himself any more than he already has. He struggles to breathe through his nose, trying not to blink too often; carefree, not a hair out of place. And, in the midst of his personal battle for dignity, he finds some amusement in how you seem to be going insane beneath him; as if you seams were being torn apart with each breath hissed through your teeth.

"I-it was just a dance..."

“He was desperate,” Aemond cuts you off, squeezing you so that your words turn into nothing more than a pathetic groan at the end of the sentence. His fingers dig into your throat, anchoring him as his hips work furiously against yours. His hair is falling to your shoulders and breasts, raising goose bumps on your skin with each thrust of his body against yours. “And that smell is really offending me, girl.”

“I-I, I’m so sorry-” you stutter, hands gripping his wrist as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, exactly where everyone can see it tomorrow, “I told him I already had someone and -"

He barely hears your confession before he interrupts. Thick words spilling from his lips as the grip on your body doubles in intensity.

"He thought with that sticky smile that he could just have you? That he would be the one to take your purity? This is for me, he should know. You belong to me. Only for me - only for me." He shakes and sputters to the wild pleasure coursing through his veins, some of his self control slipping as he bows his head and bumps his forehead against your sweaty shoulder, panting heavily into your skin at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock like a lathe.

"Yeah - only for you", he distantly hears you moan above the roar in his ears, feels your little fingers tangle between the silver strands of his hair until you manage to give a sharp tug, right at the base of the back of his neck. He groans into your skin at the sensation.

The liquid heat building inside him is almost overflowing, so close that he can't stop his trembling hips from meeting yours with shallower thrusts. He's almost rubbing himself against you, over and over, frantically. “Aemond, p-please,” you murmur, cherry-colored tongue wetting your plump bottom lip. "I can't anymore, I can't - ngh, please-"

Aemond swallows the rest of your words with a punishing kiss, answering your broken plea by quickly grinding his hips, encouraging your orgasm to wash over you. He doesn't stop, not even when you go rigid, unable to kiss him back or do anything other than moan and cry into his mouth.

Aemond traces your lips with his tongue, nibbling them until they're soft, his own breathing becoming as frantic as the cock that's dragging without pause against your wet walls. When his orgasm washes over him, Aemond is already panting and moaning as if in pain as he rests his forehead against yours; an intense gaze observing yours, focused on every detail of your delicate features. Your hooded gaze, the wet trail of tears on your red cheeks and your uneven breathing. The purest adoration for him shining in your eyes like stars in the dark sky.

And he smiles then.

Because you are his now.

Duly claimed.

.

With a gentle touch on his elbow, Aemond returns to reality.

The apples of his cheeks are dyed a subtle (but noticeable) shade of red as his violet gaze scans the space in front of him, silently surprised to have been caught in the middle of his unholy reverie.

It's you.

A beautiful silk dress on soft skin. Hair tied in a slightly loose braid. So small compared to him. So beautiful. So...his.

"Prince Aemond, are you okay?"

He looks at you for a moment, debating between feigning disagreement to spare himself the humiliation of being caught or pushing you against the nearest wall.

In the end, he chooses to remain still, head raised proudly and face indifferent, although his violet gaze remains stubbornly tilted downwards, thirsty to maintain eye contact with you.

"Yes, I just got distracted," he says, voice deeper than he'd like it to sound.

You smile, sweet and soft and his heart quickens.

"That's great. Well, it's late and my feet are hurting after all the dancing." You close your eyes in an amused, relaxed expression, there's even a dimple forming in your cheek as the wide smile stretches your lips - and although the sight is enough to fill his chest with a bubbling sensation of pure warmth, a muscle Aemond's jaw jumps at the mere mention of your recent activities. "Have a good night, my Prince." You conclude when he offers no response to your comment, bowing with a respectful farewell before walking away.

He watches you leave the great hall with delicate steps, gentle smiles and nods directed at the people you meet on the way. The image of grace and innocence, without a doubt. At least until you turn your head towards him before walking out the hall doors.

The way your upper teeth sink into the plump flesh of your lower lip, your heavy eyelashes fluttering when you squint briefly, the flushed cheeks and swollen pupils aimed specifically at him...

It happens as quickly as it started. With a fluid movement you turn around again and walk through the hall doors, as if nothing had happened.

Aemond sighs; tired, irritated, burning with lust.

You keep playing with him.

The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features.

He would catch up to you.

And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream-

He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.

[cloudcountry]

Eeee requests are open for Rollo!! Ahem.

So ever since I watched a playthrough of the GloMas event, I always had this idea in my head where Rollo and Yuu (or in this case, the reader) are dancing in the ballroom. But Yuu/Reader knew Rollo's connection to what happened with the Crimson flowers (?) and they disliked him for it. But they also don't have a choice but to dance with him to avoid conflict.

I was obsessed with Enemies to Lovers by Joshua Kyan Aalampour at that time so it kinda influenced the idea hehe

Thank you and take a good rest after this!! <3333

SUMMARY: you're trapped in a fearful waltz with the man you hate.

WARNINGS: none!!

COMMENTS: COOKIE THAT PIECE IS BEAUTIFUL........readers if you wnat to listen to something while you read please listen to it its so good and made my writing flow so easily omg

i havent played the full event so if some parts dont make sense thats why!! im only going off of some spoilers ive seen so if you havent seen any spoilers for this event tread carefully i guess!!

Your hands shake as the man in front of you takes them, his stare cold and triumphant. He knows he’s won this battle, that you have to dance in order to preserve Night Raven’s reputation or risk making yourself look bad. He knows he’s won and it kills you inside. You have half a mind to step on his toes but you decide against it.

His hand grasps your waist and sweeps you into a waltz. You hold back a violent shudder at the touch of a madman, your heart pitter-pattering like the ashes against the cobblestone paths. Rollo sighs, almost like he’s relaxed, like he’s enjoying this dance with you.

You could not agree less.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, words laced with a mocking poison.

You seeth, but keep your mouth closed. You will not give him anything to use against you. The dance continues as the orchestra hits another crescendo, and bile crawls up your throat when Rollo spins you and dips you in accordance with the music.

He’s a delightful dance partner, although you loath to admit it. If he wasn’t so unpleasant to be around and didn’t actively put the people you loved in danger, you may have enjoyed this moment.

That thought vanishes the second you see his face and the ugly smirk that adorns it. You hate this. You hate this and you hate him. You hate having to rely on your magical peers to drag you away from Rollo, even though they can’t right now because this dance is supposed to signify goodwill.

It doesn’t matter how much Deuce hates to see you uncomfortable, or how much Jamil takes in your partner's body language to make sure he isn’t planning anything nefarious, or how hard Azul clenches his fists in displeasure or how much Grim wants to bite his ankles or how much Malleus wants to rip Rollo’s hands off of you because they would ruin everything if they did and that’s simply not an option any of them can take anymore.

And so you dance.

You dance and you can’t wait for it to be over.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

The Nightmare Before Christmas Lost in The Book: Over The Spiral Hill

{1} {2}

-

“ “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.” “ You quote as Jack sang opera to your group, the earlier events of discussing music and dances for the festivities. 

Riddle comments at the words, “I never thought’d you’d be imitating Rook on this… Event.” The dorm head mumbles. You grin at the red-head. “He wishes, the song reminded me of a playwright in our world.” You gesture to Yuu. 

“ “Just because I can’t see it, doesn’t mean I don’t believe it.” “ You say the phrase easily, recalling it for this occasion. “That wasn’t from the playwright though… Still a good quote though, you think?” You ask your group, turning away from them. 

…

You felt your face become warm at the line, embarrassed.

-

“Yuu! Grim, Skully!” You happily show off the different details your outfit held. Reminding you of home, hints of Ramshackle hinted in a few stitches.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t realize your’s was a bit stranger than ours.” Grim says, circling around you curiously. 

“It looks good!” Yuu replied, keeping close to you, you laugh.

“It’s very beautiful!” Skully compliments as you blink. An idea forming into your head..

“Hmm, Yuu, I wanted to ask. Do you remember any holidays from ‘Home’?” You ask carefully, knowing the answer. You pick up Grim, watching the other human ponder.

Yuu eyes you back, eyes glazed over thoughtfully. “No, not as much as you.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Skully joins in, listening attentively.

“They’re not from Twisted Wonderland!” Grim pipes up. “Grim, shush!” Yuu scolds, while you hand the fur-ball to them. Skully’s lips part slightly, shocked a bit.

“T-Then.. Where is it are you two from?”

Yuu shrugs, clearly not as comfortable as you were about ‘Home’.

“Uh- Let’s say, very far.”

“Worlds away-” Grim is interrupted by Yuu shoving their face his fluffy neck. “OI! Yuu! Quit it!” Grim swats at their hair as you take Skully’s attention away. Linking hands with his as the four of you walk.

“I wanted to say before, that our holidays are sorta the same and different. A few don’t even exist here.”

“Don’t bring up Chr- ACK! AGAIN?! Stop!” Grim whines at Yuu’s affectionate gesture.

“What is “Chr”?” 

“Oh- That’s a holiday from where from and it’s called-”

You pause. “Let’s say, it’s kinda like… “The opposite”, or more of.. Colorful, cold. Instead of pumpkins and autumn leaves. We have snow, depending on the region, along with carols instead of spooky-sweet melodies!” You wink.

“Instead of a “Pumpkin King” we have this guy called S-.”

Interrupted once more by Grim’s whines, you roll your eyes playfully. “There’s another one too, where we celebrate those who are…” You summarize the best you can. Smiling sadly, “it’s paying tribute to those we miss. To keep them remembered.”

You go on to another holiday, something along the lines of a rabbit and marshmallow birds…

Skully remains quiet, intaking all the knowledge you gave to him. The memories held within your mind, wishing to be shared. Just as precious as Halloween was to him.

Resolved settled within him as they walked further down the path to Jack’s house.

-

After the fiasco with Skully and the Oogie-Boogie squad, Jack had awoken from his slumber while Skully apologized. 

Halloween was back on!

Music played all around town, joining in on the merriment without a care.

Dancing with everyone, you twirl around with different dance partners. Grim, the fluffy beast, tried his best with taking lead with the waltz.

Settling down, you find one of the stray flowers beside you. Plucking it without much thought, pinching at the petals as you stop at a familiar voice.

Tossing the flower away, you readily take Skully’s hand. 

-

Flowers in hand, you walk back to Ramshackle. The graves greeting you as the wind slowly becomes small wisps. A book held tightly in hand, purchased immediately before everyone left Foothill Town. A melody humming on your lips, adorn in a familiar costume you commissioned Vil and Crewel for earlier. Vil even looked… Pleased at the flimsy sketch, seeing the vision easily. As it reminded him of something lost to him. Yuu and Grim follow a few steps away.

Grim held a can of tuna while Yuu carried a  small basket of candies. 

Ramshackle, alight with decorations of purple and green tinsel, along with Diasomnia’s own decor. 

Kneeling by a few unnamed graves, the three of you place the items down. Heading back inside for the rest of the Halloween party.

The ghosts greet you three excitedly, as your guests a few doormates chatter and relax. 

Letting your frown fade, you smile, hands craving over the edges of the portrait that laid above the unlit fireplace. The mantle covered in small decorations of colored skulls, candles and candies. The familiar pumpkin-colored eyes roaming down from above you and your guests.

-

[YALL IM SO PISSED THAT SKULL IS WRITTEN OFF! Im HOPPING TWST decides to put him in the game and give him a card.I’LL SAVE UP FOR IT! HANDS DOWN. I’ll probably be trying to cope a bit with small one-shot drabbles based around him. YALL I CANT!!! If anyone got my references at all let me know, Im so… AUGHHHHHHH! Anyway, thanks for reading!]

[roseyodditea]

Dance Practice - Diluc x gn! Reader

Summary -> 800 ish words (probably). Diluc attempts to teach you how to waltz.

Warnings -> None

A/N -> You know the drill: Not proof read and self indulgent. Also feel free to send in requests. I'm trying to think of ideas that aren't just for Wriothesley and Boothill. Can't show my favoritism too hard

Your fork fell against the nice plate, the loud sound echoing through the halls of Dawn Winery. “What?” Diluc looks up from his own dinner, a confused look in those big, red eyes. “It’s rather customary. It’s just a small celebration for the top investors. My father set the standard that they be ballroom style with some hors d’oeuvres, some nice wine, nothing too extravagant.”

“And I will be expected to go?” “Why yes, you’re my partner. There have been plenty of rumors about you and the investors would love to meet you. Quite frankly, I’d love the opportunity to show you off. It makes the idea of hosting one of these parties worth it..” He said with nothing but pure adoration in his voice. But it did nothing to soothe the way your heart dropped in your chest, nerves turning your blood ice cold.

“Big party huh? Tuxes, dresses, all those prying eyes?” “Hardly prying. They’re so self absorbed they’ll barely remember what else they talk about during the party.” He shrugs and takes another bite of his food. 

“‘Luc… Darling.” You try to hide the way your voice quivers. “You really want me there?” “Of course I do, why would I not?” He places his hand on top of yours, rubbing a thumb gently across the back of your hand. 

“I want you to think really hard about the differences of our upbringings.” You always try to gently remind him that your childhood was nothing like his, and he always seemed so slow to remember. 

“I don’t… oh.” A flash of guilt crosses his face. “I suppose I should have told you about it more than a weekend in advance.”

“Yeah. Probably.” You could do nothing else but offer a soft chuckle. “I don’t know the first thing about any fancy parties. I don’t want to embarrass you.” “Nonsense. I’ll have Adeline take your measurements tomorrow and you and her can pick out your outfit of choice tomorrow. I’ve got a good tailor who’ll rush the alters.” He responds casually and continues to eat his dinner, yours now going cold. It was hard to have an appetite with the sudden rush of nervousness. 

“That’s not all I’m worried about. It’s the whole… behaving properly, the dancing, the not knowing which fork goes where-” “It’s not a dinner party, love, there won’t be any forks.” “That’s not my point and you know it.” You sigh, defeated.

Diluc places his fork down and moves to sit next to you, rubbing his hand across your back. “You’re right. I need to be taking this more seriously. I can’t say I understand how nervous you are right now, but the least I can do is help you through it. May I ask what’s stressing you out the most?” His voice held emotion he dare not show in front of other people. 

“I think… The dancing. They’re going to expect me to dance with you at least once, I assume?” “Yeah. They will. But it’ll be okay.” Diluc hums softly. “Just follow my lead, relax, and only pay attention to me, and you’ll do great..” He places his lips against your temple. 

“I’ve never ballroom danced before. They always make it look so… complicated.” You pok at your food some more.

“Not at all. Come here.” He took your hand and pulls you out of your seat. He moves to put on some classical music. 

“Diluc we don’t have to do this right now-” You try to protest but he steppes in front of you, tying up his hair… Your greatest weakness. 

“Relax.” He said softly. “Just a simple waltz.” He takes your right hand in his. “Just place your other hand right beneath my shoulder blade.” You stood chest to chest with him, his hand resting on your back. 

“Seems rather close.” You chuckle and ignore the way he always made your heart race. 

“It’s supposed to be close. Just relax and follow my lead.” He steps slowly, letting you mirror his every move. 

You were starting to get the hang of it, eventually allowing the two of you to step in time to the music drifting softly in the background. “This is it?”

“It would be it if you stopped looking at your feet, darling.” You look up into his eyes only to realize how gently he was looking down at you. His movements are fluid and practiced, allowing him to focus all of his attention on you. Even with your clumsy movement, he looks at you like you are the most graceful thing in all of Teyvat. “You know… I’ve always wanted to dance with you like this.” 

“Diluc…” Your voice was soft, mirroring his loving tone. You move to rest your head on his chest, your hand sliding down from his shoulder blade down to his lower back, pulling him even closer as you continue to follow his steps. 

“I love you.” He whispers against the top of your head. “I love you too…” You nuzzle further into him. “I’m not too good at this, am I?” “Absolutely abysmal. We’ll work on it.” 

[irasamu]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 MY EYES ARE GRATEFUL, THEY BOW INFRONT OF YOU ; a dazai osamu fic. ❞

SUMMARY . dazai is a coward. he knows it. and he is damn sure the universe hates him to put him in this predicament -- a rainy day, you and your flirty mouth, alone in one house with his heart beating and stomach churning in desire. he only has so much self control to refrain himself from pouncing onto you when you ask him to teach you to dance.

❛ ━━･❪ my brain always cowers in fear ;

when the heart of a lover is near.

and why do i still feel shame?

when even my heart ignites in flames.

flames of resistance light me up ;

oh, how do you resist the line separating you from inanity?

drown with me and frown at me ;

you are insatiable, really you are.

the sight of a lover fills me with regret ;

and i drown in the river of love.

for this love of your's is a desire.

had i resisted it any longer,

would i continue to cower in fear at the sight of a lover? ❫ ･━━ ❜

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . um i tried writing poetry yet again and if no one appreciates me and especially on dazai's bday then i will be very sad \●o●/.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; bestfriends's older brother!dazai, fem!reader, angst, nsfw, slow burn.

desires. hidden or not, everyone has some or a certain kind of desire to some extent which should never be revealed to a second party or acted upon due to our own conscience and morals labeling this desire as 'scandalous', 'forbidden', 'wrong'.

but humans act. we act. on desires too tempting, we act.

and if the desire is a man named dazai osamu, it's hard to not act on it.

the man is wrapped with temptation, oozing with illicit desires everytime he opens his mouth or as much as looks at you.

yet funnily enough, you always find yourself waltzing between the border of temptation and desire, on the line of conscience. everytime you somehow find yourself in a situation where you are alone with dazai.

you smiled as you thank him before even entering the car ; for going through the hassle of picking you up from your viola lessons as the weather isn't ideal for a pedestrian.

with a sheet of grey covering the sky and asking the clouds from nearby to gather and be its audience, the winds blew in a chilly excitement yet that didn't affect you as soon as you closed the car door, smiling at dazai as you were about to thank him again. but he is aware of your habits and personality by now.

so dazai leaned a bit near you to place his index finger on your lips, gently silencing you as he smiled charmingly, "uh uh, not another word out of those preety lips darling. you don't gotta thank me, you know i would never mind doing anything for you, right?"

he says to move your heartstrings to his likings but your brain knows not to let your heart fall for this. he has been doing this ever since you first knocked on their house door, a innocent smile on your face as you told the charming boy that you were here for his younger sister due to being partnered up for a project. and at that time, you were naive and blinded by childish innocence to not notice the charming smirk laced with flirtation was the only sign to identify him as the devil.

that was then when you were fourteen and he was sixteen and the present is now when you are nineteen and he is twenty one.

you part your lips a bit to let your tongue out and licked his finger, you watched with mirth how his eyes widened and he immediately pulled his finger back though the faint pink which settled on the shell of his ears isn't a detail you can ignore now, not after spending years admiring him.

"looks like you have no self control darling." dazai muttered, grinning a bit as he turned the key to start the car again and you scoffed playfully, shaking your head to let go of the hesitance that's holding you back.

". . . if it's for a man like you, i don't have self control or resistance then." you smile as you flirt in an attempt to gauge out his reactions. one hint is all you need to retreat or continue with these feelings you have been harbouring since so long. one hint at whether he feels the same or not and you will be content till your heart aches once again for your fantasies to become true and till your brain pities your heart enough to go against its usual rational ways to go with the flow of feelings and emotions.

"keep speaking like this and i am sure to melt." dazai continued to grin yet that grin faltered soon when you raised your hands slightly over your head to strech them, bending to the side as much as the cramped space of the car allows and a deep sigh left your lips the moment you felt your stiff muscles being streched, the pleasantly specific sensation had taken over your body for a mere few seconds.

and in those few seconds, hands of temptation that dazai always holds, now began to wonder all over his own body.

it had been definitely the work of the sweater you wore above the black bodycon dress reaching just a bit above your knees. the sweater was loose and hanged loosely by your shoulders but when you stretched your hands a bit, it moved up to reveal your covered clevage a bit. maybe it was the bold dress itself or maybe the fragrance you used -- either way, something made dazai fall on his feet and the hand offered to help him on his feets were you, dressed in temptation.

swaying him by tilting your head, you waltzed and led him deeper into your web of temptation while he let you, watching you dreamily.

"you are staring." you point out after finding him nor his gaze faltering away from you and truthfully, as much as it's making you nervous, it's also making your stomach and lower abdomen feel tingles of joy.

"mhm." he hummed.

"you do that alot."

maybe it's the weather letting you two be carefree or perhaps the frustrations finally breaking. desperation taking charge of the revolution which is the confession of the state of the heart, prepared to overthrow the brain and its tyrannical ways of controlling the heart by throwing fears and doubts towards it. fear and doubts who were birthed from insecurities.

"do what?"

"stare at me. why?" you look at him curiously and dazai furrows his eyebrows as he too thinks on why he does this. what exactly makes him do this.

he slowly parted his lips as he stared at his bandaged hands, eyebrows still furrowed due to focusing on trying to decipher each and every feeling and thought of his.

"i just do . . . i can't really help myself. whenever you walk in our house as well, it's like i just can't look away from you. i don't know why but it's like you are a magnet. my eyes always find you." dazai quietly and lowly admitted. to him and to you.

"always?" you tilt your head. goosebumps rised on your arms to bid goodbye to the dictatorship of the brain and insecurities which took a step back.

dazai looked at you and gulped. he stayed quiet for a few seconds as he let temptation in the form of you to wrap your arms around him in the ballroom and allowed you to pull him towards you till your noses bumped.

you are temptation. he is tempted.

he looked at your features quickly and nodded, whispering, "always."

oh! eyes are the beholder of the truth and lies,

and staring at you would perhaps be dazai's demise.

"that's good to know." you softly tell as you look out of the window and at the same time, dazai too looks away from you as he stares at the road ahead and begins to drive.

you lean your elbow against the window as you cover your mouth with your palm, smiling shyly at the way his words repeat in your mind and makes all your cells to celebrate in joy.

dazai glanced at you when you had rolled down the window and he felt his heart stop beating for a mere second when he watched you, the way the wind from outside had you closing your eyes ; he truly can never take his eyes away from you.

tragedy it is!

he has to drive the car or else he would've loved to sit in silence and mindlessly admire you, once again memorize the curve of your nose and jaw, your eyebrows and eyelashes and your cheeks which he wants to cup and caress with his fingers.

dazai shook his head a bit to get rid of these tempting thoughts and looked forwards though the way his heart had lifted the ends of his lips into a small smile isn't something he could or would get rid of. letting the serendipity of this moment convince his brain to let his heart control for once and to give priority to emotions rather then rationality for this one moment.

a romantic tragedy!

how his hands itch and twitch to grab yours which lays on your lap yet he can't.

why?

because some desires should not be acted on, ever. or that's what a coward says to himself.

but humans act! the world is our stage. a man performs till he dies and when he dies, his successors perform!

and no human lived without performing. without acting.

acting to hide oneself. acting on one's desires.

dazai lifted one of his hands and placed it on top of yours, watching from his peripheral vision as you looked startled and looked down at his hand on top of your's. your breathing quickened a bit but soon it went back to normal again and you relaxed even more then what you were before.

dazai felt himself getting relief in exchange of the breath he exhaled when you didn't say anything or try to push his hand off. you just looked out of the window and dazai focused on driving again.

yet he felt blood rush to his cheeks and settle over there in the form of a faint pink blush when only a few seconds later, you lifted your other hand and placed it on top of his, squeezing it lightly.

this must mean you share some feelings for him too, right? should he take a step forwards or should he stay in this lane and just continue to playfully flirt and tease you?

but what about the coil of confession in his throat that is begging to be let out right now, begging to be uncoiled and let you hear his words of vulnerability.

but a step forwards initiates a change and dazai would hate if the change between you two and the relationship you share now is bad.

so he stays. like the human he is, he hesitates and he acts!

not on his desires but by wearing the mask on self restraint.

for a few minutes in the chilly and descending into chaos like weather, you and dazai sat in silence as you idly caress his knuckles with the pad of your thumb before you remember something and you softly gasp, making dazai look at you as he hums at the sudden noise.

"i have a dance on next friday. my professor said if i danced at the freshers party with another senior, she'll give me extra credits points." you tell as you raise your head to stare and dazai and he hums, telling you silently to continue.

". . . i dont know how to dance. never did it." you admit quietly and watch the first flower bloom when spring approaches and in the same sense, dazai's lips curve upwards as he throws a quick glance at you.

dazai looks good no matter what. and only if your eyes could look past the nonchalant exterior, you could've seen bitter jealousy take over him at the thought of you dancing with someone else and being in the arms of another man who isn't him.

dazai looks good no matter what he is feeling though.

but you decided that you prefer him the way he is now. quiet yet sincere and a bit of a coward to face his feelings head on but this has dazai. a charming loser.

"you want me to teach you?"

"yeah."

"why?" dazai asked and it was your turn to go silent now but unlike him who did so to search for the right words, you went quiet to search for courage to tell what your heart carved out of its flesh.

"because you . . are like a breath of fresh air which burns my lungs." raw and sincere, words spoken without fear then why are your words so confusing.

"pardon?" dazai looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as he stops the car infront of a red signal. "what do you mean?"

you take a deep breath as you stare at him, the soft frown on his face as his eyes are filled with confusion.

he must've made amends with gravity or the one who controls it. because you have no other way to explain why you are leaning towards him slowly. dazai found his eyes staring at your face and then your lips and then at your chest which was rising and falling and he loved how you were always so open and easy to read yet at the same time so hard to reach and touch and to cherish.

"you burn me because . . ." you trail off. the words to end this sentence are hanging from the tip of your tongue but they refuse to fall and ruin the glass surface of this relationship you two have, the words are afraid to break the glass and discover what is hidden under it in fear of being rejected. you stop leaning closer.

dazai didn't like your sudden stop and so, he continued on the journey you abruptly stopped on, leaning near you as he lowly spoke, "because? complete your words darling."

"because . . ." you breath out as you see him leaning near and your eyes nearly fluttured shut when the tip of his nose bumped into yours but he still did not stop and so you softly called, "dazai?"

"osamu. don't call me dazai, it's osamu for you." he corrected you and the moment his lips lightly touched your's, hearing your incomplete words didn't matter anymore. dazai wanted to close his eyes, to grab your face and pull you closer, to explore your body and tightly grab and squeeze your hands but the red light turning green from his peripheral vision stopped him. it woke him from his dreams and told him to get a grip of himself.

and when he turned around to focus on driving again, you leaned back on the seat with widened eyes. you wonder till how long can you control your desires anymore.

. . . you can't. not when the situation played out in your favor in such a weird way.

to put it simply, a chain of events took place once dazai parked the car infront of his house.

it began with light drizzle as you stepped out of his car and by the time you and dazai jogged towards his house, the drizzling turned into full blown rain. the moment dazai opened the door and allowed you inside first, his hand brushed against your ass or maybe that was your imagination. maybe he didn't actually touch your lower waist as he gently pushed you inside the house and maybe his ring and index finger didn't graze over your ass due to his outstretched hand.

that may have been your imagination but the next moment wasn't. you immediately made your way into his sister's room as you've been here many times before to recognize the creak of the stairs beneath your feet immediately. you did not imagine it when you saw your bestfriend's room void of her presence and you certainly did not imagine when dazai entered the room while you were trying to remove the wet sweater.

and this is certainly not a fragment of imagination for no amounts of imagination can mimic the actual feeling of dazai's cold fingertips sliding up your arms as he silently stood infront of you and helped you lift the wet sweater.

you couldn't look at him and so, you closed your eyes but dazai did the opposite as he refused to close his eyes, intensely staring at you.

"mom and dad are stuck with the little brat. they went to a relative's house . . . and won't be returning till the weather turns a bit less violent." he told you in a low voice, void of his usual playfulness and that cherry tone but instead his voice holds a volume of calmness and sincerity and its seducingly dangerous.

his voice reached your ears and the sound waves which traveled through your ear to your brain strayed a bit, reaching to your heart to smile at it. and the way your heartrate accelerated was a clear sign for your brain on how seductive dazai is.

"do you have any idea when they'll return?"

"why? do you not like the idea of being alone with me?" dazai smiled at you as he leaned down after helping you remove the wet sweater, his hands gripped your wrists as he tilted his head.

"that's not what i meant." you try to defend yourself as you gulp at the close proximity and you had spoken up so slowly and nervously that it gave dazai sufficient time to eye you up and down.

"be careful darling," dazai muttered as he raised his eyes to stare at you again, "you are hurting me alot here."

he grinned boyishly at the way you had stiffened up nervously at the beginning of his sentence and the way you blinked after being caught off guard with his joke.

"shit, you are so cute. just wanna kiss you." dazai flirts again yet the way he does so is by using his genuine words and wrap them with the tone of playful flirting.

the line between resistance and desires is the one dazai dances on.

you shake your head as the smile becomes hard to be hidden on your face and away from his sharp eyes. you raise your hands (his hands are still gripping your wrists) and place them on his shoulder before gently pushing him.

"get out, i want to change."

"and? do it infront of me. what's stopping you?" the boyish grin didn't leave dazai's face the way your own amused one didn't leave your's as you continued to talk to him.

and when you two talked it always became hard to keep a track on when a playful banter turned into a confession disguised as flirtation.

"what's stopping you from undressing me?" you reply back but the way his grin faltered as the exact reasons of what is stopping him comes to mind makes him loose the playful aura, like it always does.

your own shoulders dropped when you saw dazai standing straight as he smiled in a flirtatious manner once again but you knew the way he is smiling now and the way he smiled before are very different and this one is far less sincere.

"i'll wait for you in my room." dazai said and oh, why act like nothing happened when a lot clearly did?

"why?" you didn't mean to snap but it happened, since your heart held onto a thread of hope which snapped and now, the heart grew hopeless.

"didn't you say you wanted me to teach you how to dance?" dazai slowly spoke, he watched the temptation dressed in you running away from him and he hopelessly watched you go.

"i changed my mind. i don't want you to teach me . . . anything." you say as you take a step back from him, feeling your knees about to give up. why do you two find yourselves in this predicament every single time? every time when you feel as if you two will develop something and change something, he always takes a step back.

dazai osamu is the biggest coward when it comes to facing his own feelings and emotions.

and who is the fool who said indirect rejections hurted less?

they hurt less? but they are crushing your shoulders under the weight of sorrow and your knees can no longer support your body and carry it.

"are you sure?" dazai quietly asked as he looked at you even when you had turned your head to stare at the curtain flowing due to the windows being opened and letting in the harsh breezes before you slowly looked at him again.

"very." you whisper out as you take another step back while dazai took one forward.

"who will teach you to dance then?"

"i will ask any other guy." you tell the thought which began to plague his mind.

he stood at the entrance of the venue and watched temptation dressed as you stop on your way out to talk to another man, the man began to lean towards you as if with the intention to kiss you and dazai immediately snapped back into the possibilities of reality.

the thought of another guy wrapping his arms around your waist and pull you closer as the two of you waltz and what if your knee brushed against his and this makes the guy lean towards you?

won't dazai be absolutely crushed?

"change. and you will come to my room. am i making myself clear?" dazai demanded and somehow his low tone which is void of any playfulness makes him sound more intimidating and hot.

he reached for your hand to grab your wrist and pulled you towards him, glaring at you but not in anger, his soft eyes told that he isn't angry at you. he is merely jealous at his own imagination and irritated at the possibilities of them becoming the truth in the distant future.

you gulp. why are you feeling butterflies right now?

you could only nod and do nothing else. even after dazai smiled a bit at your obedience and patted your cheek before leaving you.

it took nearly ten minutes for you to change into a oversized t-shirt and some shorts. changing out of your partially wet clothes wasn't what consumed most of your time. rather it was the process of gathering courage and preparing yourself to face the man who makes your heart beat fast and also somehow its him who makes your heart sink too.

you knocked on his door with the back of your knuckles once and entered as you heard him tell you to come in, you closed the door with your leg as your eyes stayed on him as he too had changed into more comfortable and dry clothes which consisted of brown sweatpants and a beige oversized t-shirt.

you aren't supposed to stop in your steps and stare at him but you do because when dazai looks at peace and comfortable, there is no better sight to admire.

"come here darling, you know i won't bite." dazai mocked but he did it so gently that you couldn't even think about getting offended.

you can't bring yourself to take a step forwards and when one becomes unresponsive, the overthinker thinks over and over again.

"i am sorry." dazai slowly begins as he takes a step towards you, "was i being too mean? did i scare you?" dazai asked as he continued to walk towards you and when he stood infront of you, you raised your eyes to look at him as if you are hypnotized.

dazai runs a hand through his hair before he leaned down to kiss your forehead and he stayed there to whisper, "i am sorry darling. please forgive me?"

"do you always apologise this sweetly?" you ask as you smile at him to let him know you don't hold his words or action against him and that he can stop overthinking because most geniuses overthink and this is a disease.

"i don't even apologise much." dazai snickers as he grabs your wrist, taking a step backwards so you would be forced to take a step forwards.

"then why me?" you ask as you continue to smile and relish in the feeling of his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist in such a gentle manner, it made you feel as if you are made of fragile glass.

"because . . ." dazai began as he stopped walking and freed your wrists from his grip. instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist and clasped them around your back, letting his clasped hands rest dangerously near your butt. "i don't want you of all people to hate me."

"but i can never hate you." you answer immediately as you understand his intentions and raise your arms to wrap it around his neck. dazai raised his eyebrows as he muttured a small, "why?"

"because i love you --" you abruptly stop speaking and quickly try to save yourself from your self impaled fear of being rejected, "-- your company. i love your company."

you look up at him as you nervously smile and hope he didn't catch on your lie but is he dazai osamu if he doesn't notice the smallest shift in someone's muscles or the change in their tone?

dazai doesn't speak though. he smiled as he pulled you closer to him, you pursed your lips as you felt his hands grab your ass but when you looked at him, he looked so nonchalant that you felt maybe you are overreacting due to overdosing on the ecstacy of him holding you in such a way.

you barely registered the wink he threw in your direction before he pulled you even closer and gently began to move your body along with his as he hummed, making you sway to the rhythm of his hums.

"many people tell me my company is valuable. what makes you any different?" dazai tried to provoke you as his hands came to rest on your hip and he used your hips to guide you to move in the same direction as him as he noticed your stiff movements.

"because i am funnier?" you say in a confusion as you are unsure yourself on what would make you different from others.

"that's a shit excuse.'" dazai snickered before he winced a bit as you pinched his shoulder and in return, he turned you around using your hips and pressed himself against you,

"but if it's from you, it's the best shit excuse i've heard." dazai leaned down to whisper and you snicker as you look at him over your shoulder with a amused smile.

"if you are trying to be romantic then sorry to say but romance isn't for you." you tease as you feel your chest flutter when he pushed himself closer to you and you could feel his length against your ass and thigh.

dazai leaned down near your ears to reply back while at the same time he wrapped his arms around your lower stomach to pull you back towards him, making you two press against each other even more and he spoke only after he heard and smiled at the quiet gasp you released, "you want to talk about romance with me? you'll never find a guy as romantic as me."

"everyone knows you aren't romantic osamu." you quietly reply back as you take a shaky breath while his fingers teasingly tapped and trailed up and down your stomach.

"i can be for you darling." dazai muttered as he rested his chin against your shoulder and you scoffed in amusement, "why?"

"because i love you --" dazai smirked as you cursed him under your breath for mocking you, "-- your company. i love your company darling."

"very funny." you grit your teeth as you try to move away from him but dazai's tight grip doesn't let you and rather, your movements of trying to get free makes your ass brush and bump against his length and it was when he released a low shaky breath, that you stopped and widened your eyes a bit.

"fuck no, don't stop please." dazai murmured and grabbed your hips again to move them and hid his face against your shoulders at the nimble pleasure your soft grinding is providing him with.

". . . osamu?"

"yeah?" dazai whispered out. the temptation dressed as you stopped and turned to look at him, smiling seductively and he gulped.

"you are like a breath of fresh air that burns my lungs bec --" you stop as he thrusted forwards towards you, leaning your head back on his shoulder, you turned your face towards his ear (as his face was still hidden against your shoulder) and you whisper out, " --because i love you."

dazai felt himself stopping momentarily as your words repeated in his mind and with a unstable tone, dazai asked, "can you repeat that again?"

you tightly close your eyes as it feels as if repeating your words a second time is harder then when you had first spoken them but with a lot of efforts and courage, you do nevertheless, "i love you osamu."

your words hang in air and the impact of them makes your heart sink as you felt your throat tightening when your mind immediately assumed the worst.

it's over now, the change is in motion and things will never be like what they were before between the two of you.

dazai raised his head and gripped your hips tightly, turning you to face him once again as he stared at you, "repeat it again." he rasped out.

he took a step towards temptation dressed in you and you extended your arm for him to grasp.

". . . i love you." you whisper for with every minute, his voice grows strained while yours grow weaker.

dazai blinked, a faint pink blush began to coat his cheeks as he stared at you and seeing the man look so flustured and out of his usual element or arrogance gave you a temporary confidence boost.

you took a step near him, your body pressing against his as you slowly cup his jaw and rub your thumb on the underside of his jaw. you look down as you can't look at him but repeat yourself for the last time, "i said i love you, will you please give me an answer?"

you speak with a tone of urgency in your voice but dazai's lips were sealed and his ability to talk was stolen. to understand dazai's current situation better, one should think of what they desire the most and then imagine they are slowly working towards achieving it but then suddenly one day, due to random course of events, the thing they desire the most is infront of them and waiting to be claimed.

it feels surreal and confusing and dazai wonders if this is one of his daydreams which just looks super real so would his subconscious laugh at him if he made any moves under the influence of joy?

you begin to feel cold dread and it's tentacles slither up your legs and wrap around your thighs, making your knees go slightly shaky at the sudden amount of weight kept on it but you try once again to speak your feelings out and get an answer.

because sure, rejection may hurt but it doesn't hurt as much as being left in confusion without even getting a definite answer.

the temptation dressed as you smiles as dazai grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him before he leaned down to kiss you.

"i said i love you osa --" your words stopped, caught on the edge of your tongue when dazai seemed to suddenly wake up from whatever confused trance he was in, he leaned down to press his lips against your's while he raised one hand to cup your's (which was on his jaw).

you stood motionless for a few seconds as he just stood with his lips pressed against yours incase you wanted to pull back but when you did not, he took a step ahead by beginning to slowly move his lips against your's and this snapped you out as your grip on his jaw tightened, pulling him closer.

you feel dazai's hand grab your ass as he pulls you even closer to him while he tilted his head to be able to kiss you better, parting his lips to pull at your bottom lip. your grip on his jaw tightens while you part your lips for him and feel his tongue entering inside.

your other hand slithered down to rest above his crotch as you slipped it inside his t-shirt and began to rub your thumb over his slightly toned stomach, making him shiver as he felt sensitive.

dazai pressed his lips even harder against your's as he licked at your tongue before he gathered some saliva and spitted into your mouth. the action definitely took you by surprise as you loudly gasped.

dazai pulled back to look at you with a grin as he licked the saliva on his lips while you panted before moving your (which was still inside his t-shirt) hand downwards and slipping it inside his sweatpants. your other hand left his jaw to wipe the saliva dripping down the ends of your lips and down your chin but dazai stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

"wanna see something fucking dirty darling?" dazai whispered as he leaned near you, you nodded. you watched as dazai maintained eye contact with you while leaning down and parting his lips, licking the saliva dripping down before he tilted his head down to suck at your jaw and at the same time squeezed your ass.

"dirty osamu, you are so disgusting." you breath out as you whimper, the action of his making your core drip wet and dazai snickered as he nodded his head in agreement, tilting his head back to look at you again with a smug grin to which you replied by squeezing his dick through his boxers.

"you are the dirty one -- stop it darling." dazai hissed out and you did it again, rubbing your palm against his length.

"you are playing with fire right now." dazai hissed again yet you once again squeezed his dick as you smiled innocently at him, "but osamu. i'm not even doing anything."

dazai scoffed as he looked down at you while you squeezed his length again and again and again till he groaned. dazai's hand tapped on your ass while the other gripped your hip and he lifted you up a bit as he made you wrap your legs around his waist.

he turned around to walk towards his bed while carrying you.

"you have been tempting me a bit too much darling. thinking i will let you do as you please." dazai whispered with desire being thick in his tone, the low and seductive tone making that apparent.

you look at him as you bite your lips, the raindrops hitting the pavement outside making it more harder for you to think of anything else other then the obvious route the (approaching) night will play at.

"have i?" you whisper up and dazai hummed, cocking his eyebrow before he made you lay down on your back, pressing his semi hardened dick against the inside of your thigh and the feeling of it, the obvious pain he is going through due to having to restrict himself from acting on his urges and desires, you felt it all.

"definitely. i never felt so pathetic." dazai snickered before he leaned down more to whisper in your ear, "my fist felt so pathetic while i was trying to chase my high. isn't it enough to be on my mind during the day that you won't let me rest even at night?"

your breath hitched at his words though a wave of euphoria traveled from your feet and all the way to your heart at this revelation.

"then why did you never do anything about it? were you scared?" you softly scoff.

dazai's slender fingers slithered down your sides till they rested at the edge of the t-shirt you are wearing ; his which his sister had borrowed once and never returned as she claimed it to be the perfect oversized shirt to sleep in. curling his fingers, he lifted the t-shirt up slowly to reveal your skin to him. he looks at you for a few seconds to watch you staring at him with anticipation and with a small smile, he leaned down.

"you don't know how scared i was." dazai muttured against the skin of your stomach and planted a peck, your breath was once again stolen from your windpipe as you let out a shaky sigh, "what if you rejected me? it would've been so awkward between us after this. how could i live without seeing your preety face and without hearing your preety voice call my name?"

dazai muttured again and the impact of his words along with his lips moving along your stomach, kissing it and letting his tongue out every few seconds to lick your skin to tease you ; it had you being a withering mess underneath him.

"rejected? you love me?" you ask with wide eyes and watch as dazai hums against your skin.

"more then you can comprehend though i didn't know if you felt the same or not." he nibbled lightly on your skin while humping against your inner thigh.

"were my lovesick puppy eyes not obvious?" you ask with a smile as you find this situation to be entertaining, you grabbed the hair on the back of dazai's head to pull him towards you, bringing his face closer to your's for a kiss as you gently cupped his jaw.

"you look so cute all the time, how was i supposed to find a difference?" dazai smiled, laughing when you tried to raise your knee to knee him on the stomach, he immediately grabbed your knee and wrapped it around his waist while he leaned down to kiss you.

it happened somewhere in the kiss that dazai's fingers slipped down to remove your pajamas (which were not really your's but his sister's) and he rubbed his knuckles in circular movements against your clothed clit to enjoy the sound of you whining and shuddering as his lips still stayed connected to your's. he then went on to hook his finger under the waistband of your panties and remove it too, separating his lips from your's despite a weak beg from you not to and he looked at the wetness that stayed on your panties.

he swiped the pad of his thumb to gather some on his thumb and raised it near your lips but you scrunched your nose as you looked at him, "ew no. i am not tasting this."

"you are seriously no fun." dazai pouted and teased, bringing his thumb near his own lips as he kitty licked your wetness while not breaking off his eye contact with you and this sight made you want to clench your legs but he immediately placed his leg between your thighs.

"you are a disgusting man osamu." you huff out as you look down at his leg which refused to bulge, you looked at him again and by the way he smiled smugly, you knew he would go hours and hours to tease you.

"told ya, i am a dirty man." dazai smirked and looked down to catch your eager hands from undressing him, smiling when you whined. "so impatient, aren't you darling?"

he tsked when he saw that despite him grabbing your wrists, you tried to get your eager hands on the waistline of his sweatpants to tug it down. dazai raised his eyes to stare at you again, smiling at the way you immediately stopped clawing upon seeing him look at you with raised eyebrows, as if you are embarrassed or shy.

"you know how i don't have the ability to tell no to you? so why not try asking me nicely for what you want?"

"why don't you tell me what you want?" you throw his words back at him with the intentions of getting an answer to your still unanswered confession.

"you."

"you have to be more specific osamu." you tell as you lean your head up a bit, he stopped gripping your wrists and so you leaned on your elbows.

"how?"

"i don't know. perhaps by giving me an answer for my confession? do you know how hard it was to confess? and you aren't even giving me am answer. shit. i feel like i'll die of a heartattack . . . why are you looking at me like that?" your complaints come to a stop as you grow shy under his soft stare and dazai tilted his head, his lips curling into a smile.

"like what?"

". . . like you always do." is all you tell for you cannot grasp this look he gives you. it looks so soft and he looks calm yet the gaze is so intense it makes you shy.

". . . and? does it not ring any bells?" dazai raised his eyebrows and watched you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you stare at him in disbelief before it turned to you pondering and then you finally realised.

you realised how you always looked past his unspoken and silent confession.

"exactly." dazai nodded. he leaned down to kiss your chin and then went down from there. "i love you. loved you since a long time, oblivious little darling."

he muttured as dazai removed his leg from between your thighs and grabbed one of them instead as he gripped it, squeezing the fat.

dazai looked up once his kisses traveled till your chest and smiled as he blushed a bit for words so sincere were something dazai is a sucker for and these sincere words only come to the tip of his tongue when his eyes land on you, "i love you."

you got your answer. your body relaxed as your head fell back on the pillow and you closed your eyes while you calmed down, feeling as if the nervous and anxious feelings in you were for no reason. you feel lightheaded now that the weight of anticipation was lifted.

dazai's lithe fingers slipped under your t-shirt while he kissed your collarbones and left open mouthed kisses, his fingers traveled up and he used his other hand (still gripping your thigh) to tap on your thigh as he looked up at you and you got the hint, lifted your upper body up a bit for him to have access to remove your bra.

dazai gripped and pulled your bra along as he pulled his hand out of your t-shirt.

your legs tried to close when dazai kissed your breast over your t-shirt before he parted his lips to encircle them around your clothed nipple, licking at it. his hand on your twitching thigh stopped it from closing as he wanted you to feel how he gets you wet and how your hole sucks in air in anticipation.

"osamu." you moan out his name as he nibbled very lightly at your nipple though once he heard you calling him, he raised his eyes to look up and once he saw your bothered face, he grinned. without having to exchange any words, dazai's hand left your thigh, light pink prints of his fingers displayed on your skin.

he rubs his thumbs across your inner labia to feel your wetness before he inserted his index finger into your hole which sucked his finger eagerly.

dazai pushed his head to lick at your other breast before he looked up and spoke, each word of his was accompanied by a thrust of his fingers, "sorry darling but you are a little girl. don't think you are ready yet for me."

"a-asshole." you spat out with great difficulty as he added a second finger and scissored you to loosen you a bit, both of his fingers pulled out before he thrusted them inside again and he pulled them out again. he added a third finger and watched your walls squeeze his fingers making him nibble on your perked nipple as he watched the wet patch on the t-shirt where your breasts are.

"you are the one who's an asshole darling." dazai snickered as he raised himself and leaned on his elbow, looking down at your greedy hole now sucking in three of his fingers and he looked up, seeing you about to reply and so, he added a fourth finger and watched as you let out a cry and closed your eyes immediately.

"i mean, look at you. imagine if my sister came home to see her close friend spreading her legs for her older brother." dazai mocked you as his fingers sped up, the sound of his palm hitting against your ass and the wet sound produced every time he thrusted his fingers inside.

dazai watches as you brought your legs closer to yourself and tried to close them but he used his knee to pin one of your legs to the mattress and this position enabled his fingers to reach even deeper.

his middle finger touched that one spot and you moaned loudly to which he thrusted his fingers again and this time, two of his fingers brushed against that spot. dazai looked at you to see your chest heaving up and down and pulled his fingers out. immediately watching your body twitching due to being denied of the on-growing pleasure. he looked at his glistening hand covered with your slick and sighed out lowly.

you frowned and raised your head and watched dazai sit back as he fumbled with the knot on his sweatpants, raising himself on his knees to push his sweatpants and boxers down.

"come here darling." dazai told but didn't look at you as he pushed his boxers down, his dick springing up and hitting against his abdomen. he grabbed his t-shirt and raised it over his chest, grabbing the cloth with his teeth as he rubbed his hand covered with your slick on his length as a natural lube.

he looked at you again and you shakily leaned up on your elbows before crawling towards him a bit as you looked up at him, he leaned closer and grabbed your hands, wrapping it around his waist while he used his hand to grab his dick and brush it past your stomach and down your thighs to let the slick and precum on him get smeared on your skin.

"osamu please." you whisper as you lean up to peck his adam's apple and dazai immediately pushed you down, grabbing your legs and parting them open. his hands left your legs to grab his dick and position it at your entrance.

"i love you." he whispered before he inserted himself inside and the prepping from before had no use as you remained tight and he cursed before he slowly thrusted deeper and deeper.

"osamu." you let out a breathy moan as you feel him pierce your walls as he tries to go in deeper and deeper and dazai hummed as he closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

"please let me darling. i don't know when i'll be able to say this to you the next time without feeling scared so let me tell it all i want right now." he rasped out in a throaty tone and you nodded.

dazai didn't speak anything till he was bottomed out in you. after which he grabbed your waist with both of his hands and raised himself on his knees and told you to part your legs.

"i love you." dazai confessed again as he looked at you and slowly began to thrust in and out, his length penetrating your walls.

dazai grabbed your hips instead to lift you up and began to quicken his pace and soon felt his dick rub against your g-spot. your legs shook and he raised one of them towards his waist to make you wrap it around him and yet you wrapped both of your legs around his small waist to give him more angle to thrust in, this new angle provided him more access and his dick touched your cervix as he thrusted.

dazai raised your t-shirt up to your collarbones to be able to watch your breasts bounce with his thrusts, a bandaged hand coming up to fondle with one of your breasts as he tilted his head back.

"i love you." he repeated himself as he leaned down to press his chest against your's, burying his face against the crook of your neck and he muttered out, "i love you. fuck i love you. i love you."

its important for us to know that every word of his was accompanied by a peck on the skin of your neck, below your jaw.

dazai's thrusts sped up, bullying and abusing not only your g-spot but also continuously hitting your g-spot and you wrapped your legs even more tightly around his waist when you felt your orgasm approaching.

dazai squeezed your breast, the fat spilling from between his fingers and he shuddered, using his other hand to grab your ass and push you up to push his dick even more deeper into you. your ankle hooked around one another as you let out small whines and cries of pleasure.

dazai hissed as he thrusted into you again, watching you crumble beneath him as you cum, your body shaking as you do so and he thrusts again and again to help you ride out your orgasm.

after which he leans his head up to look at you with a tired smile but gasped instead when you tried to move yourself on his dick. you looked at him when you heard him gasp and panted out, "it's not fair osamu. i wanna watch your fucked out expression. i want to make you feel good. i want . . . to be the cause of your happiness for once."

"for once?" dazai laughed as he thrusted into you again as he lowered you and himself on top of you so that now you both laid on the bed with a pillar of comfort hiding you two and your act. "you make me want to laugh at midnight due to joy. joy i feel whenever you pop up in my thoughts."

dazai told and his hands left your hip and breast to cup your jaw with both hands as he slowly yet deeply thrusted into you.

"a man dreams. dreams make a man. you are my dream." dazai muttered softly and closed his eyes and he thrusted again before letting out a loud moan. thick ropes of white sprouted out of his dick and coated your walls and you felt your walls clamping around him again as it happened, your body shaking as you came for a second time.

his body relaxed immediately as the pent up pleasure was released and dazai slowly rested his body on top of your's, grasping your hand as he brought it closer to his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "i love you."

and when you smiled, the hair on his nape stood up while he closed his eyes, smiling back shyly as he hid his face against your neck again as if bowing and he repeated, "i love you darling."

[transmascaraa]

hi! guess who's returned after finally graduating :)

can i request a drabble where our bsf (lyney/wanderer/gaming) goes to prom with us + slow dances with us? maybe a little confession too..

i sincerely apologize if you've already done a fic like this already! i haven't opened tumblr for a while now—

— 🧷anon (p.s. how are you :0?)

multiple characters headcannons!

prom confession.

characters: lyney, gaming, wanderer, xiao x gn!reader

author's note: added xiao js because🤷‍♂️ ANYWAYS congrats on your graduation!! mine is like the 14th of june so i still have a bit left but yeah! i've been alright these last few days i guess, nothing special going on really lol i hope you've been well too :p also the only SIMILAR thing i did was this with gaming, but it isn't exactly like what i'm gonna write now lmao so i hope you enjoy these hcs^^

☆ Lyney

-lyney, as your bsf, is like a really trustworthy and loyal one, PLUS interesting af

-and as you HAD to have a dance partner at prom, you chose him because he was the only safe option, really.

-you asked him if he wanted to dance with you and he was a bit surprised at first but agreed after a bit. SO the music started, and you started dancing together.

-y'know, that waltz dance pose.

-and it was peaceful enough for lyney to be honest with you about something.

-he didn't care about your answer anymore, he just had to get it off his chest

-no more "magician lyney", no more "fatuus lyney".

-just "lyney".

-so when there was a pause in the music, he pulled you closer and whispered in your ear:

-"want to try and be lovers?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✷ Gaming

-like any time, any day.

-he was also a very good bsf, definitely always something interesting to hear from him

-AND it's entertaining to spend time with him in the first place lol

-so being that close, you decided to dance together for prom since neither of you had another choice.

-and he put one of his hands on your waist, and the other intertwined with yours, as you started dancing together.

-peaceful as well.

-adoring each others presence in the moment.

-sharing a few compliments here and there, making eachother giggle and smile and blush

-when nobody was looking, and nobody could hear either of you—

-"i love you." you both said at the same time.

-it was awkward, but it worked out just fine^^

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✧ Wanderer

-uh kinda difficult to become friends at first lmfao

-but you definitely manage to do it after a while and even become bsfs

-and like originally he wanted to go to prom alone

-but he felt bad for you just standing in the corner while everyone else danced with others so he just kinda dragged you to dance

-no words exchanged, only his embarrassed face not wanting to look at you directly.

-his heart was racing and he was doing his best to not fuck up the dance

-not until you pulled him closer and smiled warmly at him.

-he was flustered, but still looking you in the eyes, despite wanting to seem unbothered and uninterested.

-you kissed him on the cheek while whispering:

-"do you want to be more than friends?" to which he embarrassedly nodded, not keeping any eye-contact with you after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

✿ Xiao

-so uh you'd HAVE to be the one trying to become friends with him at first (but it kinda js works out even tho it's difficult since he doesn't understand mortals)

-although, with your help, he understands humans AT LEAST a BIT more than he used to.

-he went with you to prom because you had told him that you have nobody to dance with, so you decided to ask him.

-he didn't really get the concept of prom but he did it anyway.

-of course, while you were dancing with the music playing in the background, he felt a lot more open.

-so he started telling you in detail about how he felt about you. he didn't know it was love.

-he told you about how pretty/handsome/fabolous you were in his eyes, how he wished to spend all his life AND afterlife with you, how important you were to him and that he'd protect you if he had to—

-"i love you too, xiao." and he didn't know how to function properly after that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yes

just yes i love it

it was really interesting to write ngl i had such beautiful scenarios in my head smh

| 🧷anon | @mariaace <3

[carolmunson]

8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml

'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.' virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore) from the 'the nerve' one shot. (18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)

Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.

It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?

He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom -- He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.

He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:

Hi Chrissy What's up, Chris? How are you, Chrissy? Hey Chrissy.

I know you might not be expecting this but This might come as a surprise, but I was wond It would be an honor if Would you want to go to prom with me? Prom?

It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.

He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.

He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.

He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.

And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.

Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.

"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!" "You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.

Going to prom with Jason.

Jason Carver? That asshole?

The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --

"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"

Coulda been you, he thinks.

His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.

Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.

Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.

'Always and forever, Each moment with you, yeah Is just like a dream to me That somehow came true, yeah...'

It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair. "Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?" He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.

"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."

He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."

"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."

He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.

"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.

"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.

"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."

"What about prom?" he asks.

"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."

"No? How come?"

"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."

Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"

You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."

He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.

"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."

"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.

"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom." "Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.

"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.

Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."

"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"

"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."

"This one guy?"

"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."

[aemondsquill]

In Honor's Name

Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your new husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen, is truly an enigma. While he is cold and dismissive, he also proves to be quite the formidable protector of his lady wife

A/N: reader is from an unspecified House and has no physical descriptions

Warnings: Aemond's rizz is atrocious, violence, toxic relationship, hurt/comfort, Aemond IS a WIFE GUY, slight angst, floooof, implications of smut

Aemond Targaryen was not known for wearing his heart on his sleeve; actually it was quite the contrary, much to the dismay of his brand new wife. Attempting any form of conversation with the man was like yanking nails. He only gave one word answers or hum in response.

However, while he was not gifted in the arts of wooing his wife with his words, Y/N appreciated just how physically attentive he was. A gentle hand on her lower back when he guided her through the halls of the Keep, his fingers resting on her knee during long dinners, or his presence looming over her shoulder at banquets and feasts. These touches were the only indication that he even tolerated her.

----

Y/N was in no mood for the festivities laid out before her. Aegon decided to throw another feast for whichever unknown Lord's nameday or birth of an heir or perhaps he was just bored. Aemond, as always, was seated next to her. If he had not helped Y/N into her own seat, she would not even had known that he was there. The silence between them seemed to be even more stifling than the obnoxious noises of merriment that echoed through the great hall.

Y/N glared at the couples dancing, envious that they seemed to be enjoying themselves. She learned the hard way that Aemond does not dance. A sharp 'no' from his lips when she invited him to dance on their wedding day was enough to discourage her from ever asking again.

'How lucky am I to be married to such a bland brooding man?' She thought scornfully. He was confusing with his gentle touches, but harsh words and Y/N was done trying to figure him out. She would only do her duty: be a loyal wife and produce an heir or two. It wasn't much of a life, but there were worse ways to live.

Y/N reached for her cup, full of a dark Dornish red, and drank it greedily. The wine was delightfully bitter on her tongue.

Soon enough, a buzz flowed through her veins like warmed honey and made her brain slightly heavy. Y/N's spirits were lifted as the music swelled and the laughter all around her felt contagious.

With a new surge of confidence, Y/N turned to her ever-stoic husband. He eyed her curiously at her sudden movement.

"I supposed I shan't ask you for a dance, Lord husband, allow me to take my leave so I may find a willing partner." Without waiting for a response, Y/N shot out of her seat and grasped her velvety skirts and stalked towards Tyland Lannister.

Aemond's mouth gaped, slightly resembling a fish plucked out of the water. He could only watch helplessly as his wife, giggling and eyes shining, began an elegant waltz with the Lannister.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fork tightly, jealousy boiling in his chest at the site of Tyland gripping his wife's waist and twirling her about.

Perhaps Aemond deserved to watch his wife fall for another. He knew he had not been a doting husband, but at least he wasn't cruel. He just felt uncomfortable expressing his affection for his Y/N!

Aemond would not accept the consequences of his own actions. She was his and everyone in the Keep would know it, especially that slimy cunt Tyland.

His anger was only spurred on when he watched the Lannister grip Y/N's arm tightly and whisper a salacious secret into her ear. Her face contorted in offense, causing Aemond to nearly leap over the table in front of him.

In a split second, Aemond was nose to nose with blond Lannister.

"I will fucking tear your eyes out of your head and force them down your throat if you so much as glance at my wife again." Even Y/N felt the chill of fear tingle her spine at Aemond's threat. Tyland only smirked at the brutal confrontation. Copious amounts of wine and ale only made Tyland more bold. And foolish.

Aemond placed his hand on the small of her back, more forcefully than usual.

"Come, wife, allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"Perhaps if you weren't such a frigid cunt maybe your wife wouldn't seek company elsewhere. Leave her to me and trust she will be taken care of."

Y/N felt the surge of humiliation warm her cheeks at Tyland's horrific words. The anger rolled off Aemond's shoulders in heavy waves as Tyland tugged Y/N back into his chest and continued his vicious tirade.

"Unhand my wife and I shall reward you with a swift death."

"I heard your wife has the sweetest cunt in Westeros", his nose grazed along her neck, inhaling her scent. "I wish to taste her."

A vile glint flashed across Aemond's violet eye and in an instant he yanked Y/N out of Tyland's arms, tossing her carelessly as he pursued the Lannister further.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled to the stony floor. She could only watch in horror as her husband's hands wrapped around Tyland's throat so hard that the veins bulged.

"I am the only one who will taste my wife's cunt."

Tyland's face turned red, then blue, then an ugly shade of purple as Aemond's hands slowly squeezed the life out of him. Tyland feebly attempted to grip Aemond's arms, chest, anything he could get his hands on as he crumpled to the floor.

"She tastes of the sweetest honey. She will only bear my heirs. She is mine and only mine." Y/N couldn't help the feeling of her cheeks flush at Aemond's obscene flattery.

Aemond did not let up his assault. Instead, the bulging of Lord Lannister's eyes seemed to egg him on to press harder and harder.

Y/N shouted for the nearby guards to stop her husband from killing his House's ally.

It took nearly four men to wretch Aemond away from the scoundrel. Once he stood he shrugged off their hands and immediately stalked towards Y/N. Her eyes widened in fear as she stumbled backwards slightly. Her flinch halted Aemond in his tracks briefly, a pang rattled his chest painfully. His little display of violence and jealousy only scared his beloved wife.

Aemond took a couple more steps, this time with caution so as not to frighten her more before placing his hand on her back.

"Let us retire, little wife." And she allowed him to guide her back to her chambers in silence.

The winding corridors allowed her to replay the scene over and over in her head. Never had she seen Aemond react to anything in such a way. Nor had he spoken this many words to her in the few months they had been married.

They reached the large oak doors of Y/N's chambers and Aemond ushered her inside.

"You should not have done that. You could have killed him."

Aemond regarded her coldly, "I wish I did. I wish everyone in that hall witnessed me killing him." Y/N rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. Aemond approached her and reached for her hand, but she pulled away before speaking sternly at him.

"No. You do not get to touch me after embarrassing your House like that and nearly killing a man!"

"I was defending your honor! Tis my duty as your husband!" He snarled. He reached out and grabbed at her again, this time pulling her into his chest and she squirmed against him.

"Stop resisting me. I wish to hold my wife and I shall do so!"

Never had Aemond been so vocal and obvious about his affection towards her. It threw Y/N into a whirlwind of emotion.

Finally, she stopped fighting against him and met his glare with her own. The two breathed heavily against each other, neither used to such intimate proximity outside of fucking.

"I have been damned by the gods to love you."

Y/N scoffed. "I never knew you could be so romantic. First you nearly kill a man, now you're saying you hate loving me."

Aemond closed his eye and sighed, mentally kicking himself for his fumbled words. His arm tightend around her waist. Y/N was annoyed at the warmth that flooded her chest at the feeling.

"I love you, little wife. So much so, my words seemed to escape me, but it's true. In the short time we've been married I have fallen deeper than I can possibly fathom. It frightens me. Seeing Tyland Lannister put his hands on you drove me to the brink of madness. I would kill a thousand men and their widows if you asked me to."

Y/N's eyes softened at his clumsy declaration. In his own strange and murderous way, he held a great affection for her and Y/N's heart melted at the thought.

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eye, sighing.

"You know you cannot kill every man who speaks to me."

"I know, but I can kill most of them." She chuckled at his attempt at a jest.

Aemond found himself not able to resist any longer. He kissed her soft supple lips with fervor. Y/N moaned softly in delight.

"I have to make good on a promise I made to that Lannister cunt, little wife."

[grandline-fics]

Dance With The Devil

DESCRIPTION: You first meet through a dance

WARNINGS: mention of a death but nothing graphic

CHARACTERS: Rob Lucci

WORDS: 1,204

A/N: Don’t know where this idea came from or how I feel about the result but I decided to go with it and give one of the villains some love while I was at it. First time writing for Lucci so hopefully they turned out okay. If there’s interest for this I might do a couple more with this idea for different characters.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

By all accounts if he were to carry out yet another assassination this setting was one of the more preferable for him. Civilians of high stature mingling; all of them enjoying fine food, richer tasting wine, sharing the recent buzz of salacious gossip, and some of them sure to be part of tomorrow’s rumour mill from their current behaviour Lucci was silently observing. So many of them thought they were being discreet and it was laughable in his keen gaze. Truly those with no training like he had were so clumsy and obvious, it was laughable. Still he supposed for many in this room, this was their only real thrill and excitement they’d get in their lives. As he lifted his champagne glass to his lips, his sharp eyes zeroed in on his target across the room. A man with more money than sense and had clearly led a lavish life thanks to those riches. While Lucci had orders to kill the man he also had orders to steal the very thing that made him so rich; a ledger filled with critical information so valuable it could buy a kingdom ten times over. He needed to wait for his target to retire to his suite and kill him there and steal the ledger at the same time.

“Sir?” He barely flickered his gaze down to register who’d decided to stand beside him. The movement of his eyes was enough to signal that he heard you speak to him but he offered no other response. Knowing he was listening was enough and you continued. “I hate to bother you but is there anyway I could trouble you for a dance? It’d help me shake some…undesirable attention.” Lucci glanced at you a little more and then followed where you were discreetly pointing  behind you as you pretended to fix your hair. Slowly he caught sight of two individuals eyeing you.  Lucci considered your request for a moment. He was to remain undercover and blend in. Dancing wouldn’t be out of the question, if anything it could help him. 

Wordlessly he set his drink down on a table he’d been standing near and took your hand, leading you to the filled dance floor. Together you fell into perfect sync with the waltz playing. Slowly you followed Lucci’s stare to catch the man who had his silent attention. “Interesting…” you mused, only looking at the man with disinterest. “Didn’t think he’d be your type. You love a man with a large bank account? Or does the bald head and lecherous smile just really do it for you?” You asked with a smirk to see his lips twitch slightly. “I won't be jealous if you want me to swap places with him.” You offered. 

“Not necessary.” Lucci finally uttered and you playfully gasped in surprise as he broke his gaze from the target to stare at you with empty eyes. 

“So he does speak.” You teased, “And here I thought a cat had your tongue this whole time. Not that I mind. The strong, silent type of persona can be quite attractive when used right."

“I’ve never heard any complaints so far.”

“Humour too.” You smirked before looking behind you to see your annoyances had thankfully moved on and then glanced once more at the object of your dance partner’s attention. “Thief or assassin?” 

Your question came lower than a whisper but to Lucci he heard it perfectly. Both his eyes and grip on you hardened slightly and yet you gave no reaction. There was no fear in your eyes, just a familiar coldness. 

“For all you know I could be his bodyguard.” He stated, leading you smoothly into the second song. At his implication your smile returned with ease, continuing to dance with him as carefree as you had entered the dance floor with him. You were making no attempt to pull out of his hold. 

“Oh honey, I’m not treating you like a fool so offer me the same courtesy.” You answered. “I know every face here and I also know which bodyguards belong to each guest. So you’re here for something else.” Lucci glared down at you and your smirk grew. “There’s that strong, silent type again. Well regardless of what you’re here to do you’ll get your chance soon enough.”

Sure enough a shriek sounded and in moments the music stopped abruptly when the host’s own security entered, instructing all guests to return to their suites immediately. 

“Thanks for the dance, off you go.” You told Lucci, slipping your hand from his hold only to be roughly pulled back into his grasp. “Really? I’m suddenly a more important catch than what you were sent here to do because I worked out what you are?” You asked, surprising Lucci with your exasperation over the whole thing. Still you let him lead you with the crowd of panicked guests towards the suites. “If you’re as good as I think you are, I’m certain I’ll see you again. Quickly now, he’s getting away.” 

Lucci looked to see his target being ushered suddenly in a different direction than he was meant to be by his guards who looked familiar to him. How was that possible? He’d done his reconnaissance to the letter. Where were they going? He glared at you one final time before he let out a growl and released you, slipping through the crowd like a shadow. With a satisfied hum you turned, against the tide of bodies and effortless slipped passed them and made your own planned escape undetected. 

“You have the ledger?” Lucci’s superior asked the next morning over the den-den mushi. Lucci sat in his chair, relaxed as he looked at the hefty book in his grasp.

“It's in my hand as we speak. In the end there were no complications.” He reported. While the end location had been different, he’d successfully dealt with his target efficiently. After following them, they had gone to the original suite just by a longer and more complicated route. His target was killed in his bed while his so-called protection were none the wiser until he was long gone with the ledger in hand. “It seemed there was another death on the premises.”

“That hadn't been your doing?” Lucci frowned at the question.

“No, it was natural causes I’d heard. Heart attack.”

“That was the original thought. Our sources confirmed the cause was actually poison.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you thought to ask my involvement?”

“Because the victim was the target’s wife.” The revelation of this piece of information made Lucci freeze.

Quickly he finished the call and when he hung up he continued to think. The wife? Why would she-? Lucci looked down at the ledger in his hand and flicked through the pages, finally stopping when he noticed the tiniest remnant of paper in the seams. The only tiny trace that another page had once been there. Leaning forward he caught a scent. Yours. So that’s what you’d been up to. As infuriated as he was, he couldn’t deny your skill and now that he had your scent he would make it his ambition to track you down. He owed you another dance. 

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- They Teach you to Dance Furina & more x gn!reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 3rd, 2024

Description: Your partner teaches you to dance. Includes Furina, Ganyu, Dainsleif, Zhongli, Traveler Twins

Notes: N/a

Back to directory

Furina

The reason for these headcanons, one of her teapot voice lines is her offering to teach you how to dance

She definitely forgets to instruct you at first, she just starts leading you in a dance as she hums a tune

If you have some dancing experience, that probably won’t be a problem, if you’ve never danced before…

She definitely takes it slow, she’s just been dancing for so long she forgets to explain

She will step on your toes just as much as you’ll step on her’s because of this

She will twirl you to teach you how to twirl her, once you’ve got that down she won’t twirl you anymore

She will also throw herself into a dip, if you let her drop she will pout and sulk

The best fix for this is to pull her up and into another waltz with a twirl

Once you’ve learned how to dance she expects you to lead, even if she initiates

Loves big dances, both in number of attendees and flourish of the dance

Overall 8/10 teacher and 10/10 dance partner

Ganyu

She can definitely dance, Cloud Retainer taught her, she just doesn’t dance often

Teaching wise I think she’s a great instructor, at least verbally

In the beginning she gets so fixed on explaining and watching your movements that she trips up

Please reassure her that you’re following okay, she’s not used to being in charge

You’ll definitely learn faster with her then Furina because in teaching you she’s also reminding herself

She won’t teach you anything fancy, but if you go and learn a twirl or dip she will break

You will have to initiate any dances, unless someone has told her she should dance in which case she will ask you

Also preference dancing alone and not in a large group, sweep her away to a balcony during a Qixing event and you can dance all you’d like

Preferes swaying to music over an actual waltz

In the end, 8/10 instructor and 10/10 dance partner

Dainsleif

He can dance, he was the captain of a royal guard, but it has been awhile

Seriously, you’re basically learning together

You also definitely have to ask him to teach you, Furina and Ganyu might offer but Dain won’t

Once you start dancing muscle memory kicks in and it sort of ends up like Furina teaching you

He can’t really explain what to do, so he kind of just drags you with him

By the time he figures out how to explain you’re halfway to figuring it out yourself

If he’s teaching you to dance before the fall of Khaenri’ah disregard everything before this, he is the best teacher on this list

Prior to the fall he will always initiate dances, if he’s attending and event and not on duty, after the fall you’ll have to initiate and he’ll be a bit reluctant

Chances are you aren’t at a formal event, so he sees no point in dancing, so if you want to dance you have to ask

Before the fall it is a point of honor to ask you to dance

Will always lead, another silly point of honor

Before the fall, 10s across the board, after the fall, 4/10 teacher and 9/10 dance partner

Zhongli

Can dance, not very fluidly and it is definitely a rusty skill now but he can

During his prime he was a good teacher, just a little stiff

Now he’s kind of like Dain, the muscle memory is there but very rusty

He will, however, ask Madam Ping to re-teach him how to dance so that he can teach you

So, you might step on each other's feet a few times but he will actually teach you

He prefers to initiate dances, like Dain it’s a point of pride, but he’s always happy when you do too

Will lead or follow your lead

Hu Tao has, on occasion, meddled to get him to ask you to dance

Like Ganyu he doesn’t really like big sweeping dances, he prefers being able to sway together to the music

Definitely a 9/10 teacher and partner only because he’s a bit stiff

Traveler

They can dance, definitely, they’re usually eachother’s partner

They’re also definitely smooth, you cannot convince me they wouldn't start stomping wars when they stepped on eachother’s feet

Both twins will ask you to dance, and if they ask you to dance they’ll lead– unless you ask to lead

I mentioned the twins are usually each others partner, it worked the same way between them– Lumine has been smacked in the face by Aether’s braid while twirling him and they’ve both definitely dropped each other in a dip on purpose

The twins don’t mind waltzes that travel, but they aren’t big fans of partner swapping dances

Aether likes dipping his partner, and Lumine likes twirling hers, but they both like being twirled

Sharing a rating, the twins are 10/10 teachers and 10/10 partners

[noosayog]

[a midsummer night's dream] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa. fluff mostly, minimal angst. an outtake of it's always been you and inspired by the webtoon series I'm Stanning the Prince!

wc: 1k

--

This is a story about a time long before you married your knight. 

It’s a fond memory you have of your coming of age ball, the morning when you spent hours grooming, primiping, fasting, preparing for the one night of your life when you could finally be seen as a woman. In your mind, there’s only one person you want to notice you tonight and all your efforts would have been worth it if you get even one glance from him. 

And so as your mother announces you to the guests and you descend the staircase with all the grace that the years of etiquette training instilled in you, you’re delighted to see that your knight does indeed have his eyes fully trained on you. 

As is his duty, he awaits you at the bottom, one arm crooked behind his back and one proffered to escort you as you make your rounds to greet those who have come to wish you a happy birthday. 

You think that his simple, “you look beautiful, Princess,” could fuel you all night. You dutifully make your rounds to greet the nobles, moving through the greetings quickly and efficiently, itching to dance your first dance with Hajime.

However, when the dances start, Hajime offers your hand to the first suitor that comes your way.

“Have a wonderful night, princess,” he bows. 

And while it would be a lie to say that your naive heart did not feel betrayed, you have loved Hajime onesidedly for long enough that this does not break you. 

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, but luckily the gentleman who has led you into the first waltz is polite and funny. His easy banter and teasing make for an enjoyable dance and when he asks to continue through the second and third dances, you think it a favorable alternative to chancing on another partner who is leery for an engagement to the royal family. 

And as you meet the eyes of your knight who stands in a corner, watching over you should you need assistance, you know he has no intention of leaving his post tonight to dance with you. When Hajime reads your gaze as a cry for help, he pushes off the wall to come for you but you simply shake your head and offer him a weak smile, falling back into step with your partner and waltzing the steps of the next song. 

–

You look beautiful tonight. Iwaizumi means it when he tells you. He’s not pleased at the attention you garner from the men at tonight’s gathering and even more so when he thinks about the fact that all men here tonight at your coming-of-age ball are predatory for an opportunity to win your favor and later, your hand in marriage. 

Purely as a knight who has protected you since your adolescence. 

There could be no other reason for the tautness that takes over his body when he hands you off to the first decent partner for the dances. 

As the first dance comes to a close, he awaits the glance he knows you will give him – to come save you from a full dance card of pesky suitors and small talk. As expected, your signal comes and he begins to stride towards you, intent to offer his hand for the second dance. 

So it’s a surprise when you shake your head and glide back on the dance floor – with the same partner no less. Iwaizumi leans back against the wall, face clouding over as he watches you dance with the same man for the second dance. 

And the third. 

And the fourth. 

There are only five dances. Will he really not get a chance to dance with you tonight? 

The final dance comes on, one he knows you favor and he would be damned if another man got to share your favorite dance when he himself has only practiced with you in private.

Iwaizumi gruffly cuts in, offering a quiet “excuse me,” to your partner and taking your hands without leaving any room for protest. He’s grateful when your partner graciously excuses himself. 

Your steps are perfectly aligned to his, no doubt a result of the hours of being your practice partner. He wants to make a gentle jab at the days you were still stepping on his feet, but you refuse to meet his eyes. 

Instead, he quietly dances, watching your expressions with each turn. 

A minute goes by and you still say nothing. Tiring of your silence, he makes an unpracticed move, picking you up by the hips and twirling you midair.

He’s rewarded with a little yelp wrenched from your throat. 

When he returns you to the ground, your lips pull into a pout and he grins. It’s the expression you make when you are suppressing a smile. 

“Finally ready to talk to me, Princess?” 

You harrumph and turn your head away childishly. Iwaizumi takes that as a win, grinning while the dance continues. 

He is content to finish the night like this until he sees your eyes stray to your previous dance partner, who is now dancing with another. Iwaizumi follows your line of sight to see the other man mouthing something he can’t make out. To Iwaizumi’s dismay, you temporarily pause your pout to giggle.

Frustration and something else he dare not name rears its head. In an impulsive show of possessiveness, the hand resting lightly on your hips winds further around your lower back to push your body flush against his. With his other hand holding yours, his pointer finger forces itself into the space between your pinky and ring finger, not quite a full lovers hold but not as estranged as the hold dance partners are meant to have. 

The immense satisfaction is well worth it as your eyes, wide as saucers, are returned to him. 

A brief thought crosses his mind at the thought of the king and queen seeing the current state of the two of you: fingers improperly intertwined and chest inappropriately to chest. 

But the night is glowing so brightly and the apple of your cheeks are flushed so beautifully and your body against his feels so right that he allows you to interpret the smugness pulling at his lips however you please.

Just for tonight.

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (5)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Raven and Armando go under cover once again. Which lands them in a sticky situation.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: Hey guys!! So, this is either part 1 of 2, or the next upload will just be part 6. :) Either way, the inspiration came from me listening to "Blick Sum" on Latto's new album. Hope it doesn't such and you enjoy! // Armando and Raven's looks pictured above.

"Mike, I think your son is on the run on again." Mike's head whipped towards his longtime partner and best friend as he walked away from Armando's room. His face crinkled in confusion, already preparing to tell Marcus to cut the bullshit "Look, I'm serious man. He's not in his room or anywhere else in the house." "Well, what about outside? In the back maybe?" Dorn offered an alternative suggestion, having grown a liking to Armando, he doubted his newfound team member would just escape.

On the opposite side of the couch Mike couldn't help but grow silent. He also couldn't fathom his son just up and going on the run. He'd seen the improvement Armando was making, an actual effort to be trusted and become a part of this team. No way he'd just up and leave. "Okay, okay. Let's think about this seriously. Where would he even run to? He has immunity so long as he's with us. So, what sense would it make for him to run?" The sound of Raven's door opening cause a hushed silence to fall over the room.

Kelly, Dorn, Mike, and Marcus all watched in surprise as a shirtless Armando exited the bedroom with two empty coffee mugs, sitting them in the sink. Black sweatpants hung loosely around his hips, his hair looked dishevel, and his lips looked red and swollen as if he'd been lip-locked with someone for hours.

"You guys are idiots." He lowly grumbled and turned on his heels to turn back into her room. The four of them were left in surprise at the sight. It seemed like years had passed before Dorn spoke. "I knew it!" Slapping his hand down on the coffee table palm up, he then wiggled his fingers. "Pay up, fuckers. Love always prevails!" He fist pumped.

Another hour passed before Raven and Armando were dressed and present for the debriefing of what was to occur that day. "Is it big?" Kelly could be heard whispering to Raven as they began to giggle. "Hey! Enough of that shit." Marcus exclaimed as Armando smirked.

"Ok Snooki and Jwow, can you two pick that conversation up later. It's time to get down to business. Based on what Armando and Raven saw last night, plus Armando's idea to infiltrate we have the perfect way in." Dorn sat up from his seat, eyebrows crinkled as he glanced around the room. "Infiltrate? How are you gonna do that?" Now it was Armando's turn to speak. "They know our faces now. If anything, they probably think we're some hot shots trying to get in on his game, become allies at the least. All we have to do is get in through that fucker that was hitting on Raven last night."

"And just where are we supposed to find him?" Raven questioned, her eyebrow raising as she eyed the brown skinned male who only smirked. "Don't worry about that, baby. I have my sources. " Raven opened her mouth to rebut, she wanted all the details if she was going to be walking back into direct danger. "Raven, trust me. We double checked it, it's a legit way in. Your captain and Rita are okay with it. We wouldn't send you into any half assed shit. You trust us?" Mike spoke up, eyeing her with pure sincerity in his eyes. She took a moment but nodded. "Yea. Let's get it then."

With that, Mike, Marcus, and Armando went on to explain the full plan.

The purr of the approaching black Lamborghini caught the attention of many in the already crowded lot. The sun seemed to dance off the paint as it traveled along the path, the unknown driver eventually parked the car before both doors opened. Those who had weapons reached for them, unaware of who the hell had just waltz into their hangout and where did they get the nerve to do so.

Time seemed to stand still underneath the blazing sun, that was until they were greeted by the sight of a woman stepping out of the car. Raven's hair whipped past her face as she looked around the crowd of men and the women that accompanied them. Her teeth chomped down on her bubble gum before she blew a large bubble, allowing it to pop shortly after. "Are we interrupting?" She smiled innocently as Armano stepped out of the car. They both met at the hood of the car, Raven's short shorts and orange and white striped bikini accented the figure that they both knew men went crazy for.

She leaned against the car, scanning the crowd for the sleaze ball they'd encountered the other day. She glanced over to Armando who wore something simpler. He wore a white tank top and black pants. The hills and valleys of his muscles more defined by the flex of him situating himself beside her. The true flash of his outfit resided in the smaller details he chose, the thin gold chain he wore around his neck practically danced with each move he made. Mike personally went out to get him shoes that were way more expensive than needed. Stating something about. "A subtle flex is what we really need." But really Raven felt he simply wanted to get his son a gift.

It seemed everyone was in somewhat awe of this random couple, but slowly returned to their previous activities. "He's coming." Raven spoke lowly to Armando who'd propped up a bit as the sleaze ball approached. "Ah, tough guy." He greeted as he approached the two. "Can I uh, can I ask what you're doing here?" The man looked around the area before he motioned to the open space. "You know, this is a dangerous place to be." The smug smile on his face agitated Raven, while Armando held a cool demeanor. "Where's your boss?"

He ignored the futile attempts of the man to place fear into his heart. Mainly because he wasn't scared, but also because he needed to cut out this middleman bullshit. "My boss? Compañero, no body speaks to him without speaking to me first? So, like I said, what are you doing here?" Raven glanced between the two. Although this was a mission they were on, she felt she was getting a glimpse of the man Armando used to be. She couldn't lie and say it wasn't turning her the fuck on. The arrogant confidence and dominance radiating off him cause butterflies to form in her belly as she thought of the night before.

"Tengo algunos asuntos que tengo que discutir con él. Así que, de nuevo, ¿dónde está el hombre a cargo?" Armando replied, nonchalantly. As he discovered in the car, Raven was very fluent in Spanish much to his surprise, so he knew she was well aware of what was happening. "The man in charge huh? Well right now, I'm the man in charge. Ain't that right, sweetheart." He took this time to finally acknowledge Raven, winking at her. "Why don't you come over here with me, huh?" he continued with a lick of his lips. And while, Armando was very much playing a role of a man who wouldn't stand for that.

He, himself, also wouldn't stand for the disrespect of this woman. Of his woman. "Yo, didn't I tell you last night to match your words with her." Armando stood up straight. Reaching behind himself to quickly brandish his two toned baretta. This of course, cause the entire crowd to get on the defense. The goons around them also drew their guns, waiting for who she could only assume to be their underboss to say the word and they'd be Swiss fucking cheese.

In this moment, she hoped the rest of the team was making their way to rescue them in this moment as Armando placed the gun underneath the sleaze balls chin. "Apologize to her." He gritted through clenched teeth. For once, the man showed a bit of bravado. Not apologizing, but instead offering a challenge. "Odio a los gilipollas como tú, solo que duros con una pistola."

In this moment, Raven knew he was either this brave to safe face in front of his crew or because he knew they were outnumbered. "Oh?" Armando laughed. "So, you think this gun is what makes me so tough?" With the firearm still pointed underneath his chin, the sleaze ball stood firm in his stance that Armando wouldn't be so tough without it. Raven watched as he laughed, pulling the gun away and holding it out to her. "Hold this, baby." He stated without even turning his head to look at her.

Without uttering a word, she took the gun from him, watching as he sent a fist flying straight into the male's nose.

Fuck!

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

Compañero - "Buddy."

Tengo algunos asuntos que tengo que discutir con él. Así que, de nuevo, ¿dónde está el hombre a cargo? - "I have some business that I need to discuss with him. So, again, where's the man in charge?"

Odio a los gilipollas como tú, solo que duros con una pistola. - "I hate assholes like you. Only tough with a gun."

credit for Armando picture to @yeahnohoneybye

[justwinginglife]

When You Know

Dedicated to my new follower @onna-musha-mari, more Howl fics to come, thanks so much for the support!

Your partner was an atrocious dancer.

But he was rich beyond belief, a nobleman, in line for some throne in some country, and a potential marriage prospect. You figured the least you could do was pretend to enjoy the dance; you owed his money that much.

As you glided along, using the sweetest of sweet smiles to mask your winces when he’d step on your toes or to hide your embarrassment when he’d miss his mark again, you remarked to yourself that apparently money couldn’t buy skill. No amount of money could erase the shame of having such a dance partner. No amount of jewels could erase the memory of his feet stumbling over yours, or undo the bruises he’d imposed upon your delicate toes.

Howl had been watching the whole disastrous affair and it pained him endlessly. When the song ended, he immediately flew to your rescue. You were a stranger to him, someone he’d never see again after tonight, but he felt the need to save you from this awful fate. He couldn’t bear to watch you struggle any longer. You were too beautiful, too elegant, to be resigned to such a sad, pathetic man.

“Mind if I have this dance?” Howl holds his hand out to you.

You meet the gaze of your savior and quickly - though not too quickly, so as to appear somewhat hesitant to be separated from your current partner- take his hand, letting him lead you further onto the dance floor.

“Well hello stranger.”

Howl bows to you, “Hello, my dear.”

He slips one hand around your waist and takes your hand with the other as he begins waltzing with you.

“Thanks for saving me.”

He grins. “Anytime.”

You dance another minute or two in silence, your bodies in perfect sync with each other. The ballroom is crowded, the music is loud, but somehow you feel like it’s just the two of you, alone in this room, lost in your own world. Lost in the rhythm of the dance, lost in the deep blue of his eyes.

Finally, you remark, “You’re not too bad at this, I suppose my toes can rest easy.”

He chuckles. “Oh, love, you’ll find I’m not bad at anything.” He winks, then he continues, “And might I add, you’re looking absolutely stunning tonight.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that right? What a smooth talker you are, Mr…?”

“Pendragon. Howl Pendragon. At your service.”

“Well thank you for your service, Mr. Pendragon. Once again, I appreciate the rescue.”

He pulls you closer as you continue to dance, then he murmurs against your ear, “It’s Howl, actually. You can call me Howl.”

The feeling of his breath on your skin makes you shiver and, sensing the sudden motion, he pulls you even tighter against him, trying to steady you. You’re suddenly very aware of how warm the room is, of how warm your skin is, of how warm his hands are.

“So, Howl… what’s a guy like you doing alone at a party like this?” You try to keep the interest out of your voice, but it’s there all the same.

“Maybe I’m just looking for someone like you. Someone devastatingly gorgeous who happens to be a fantastic dancer.” He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction to his compliments.

You smirk. “You better be careful saying things like that, or you might never get rid of me.” You tease.

He grins, then rests his forehead against yours. “I just can’t help myself. You’re simply too beautiful. You might not be able to get rid of me.”

“I bet you say that to all the women.”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

“Ah, so I’m not special. A shame.”

The song ends, but he’s still swaying with you in his arms, his blue eyes searching yours as though trying to read your mind. He’s dangerously close to you, so close you can almost taste him. Close enough that you’ve started to imagine the way he tastes, against your will. You know he’s probably just a huge flirt, but you can’t help being enticed by him anyway.

“Howl…” You whisper.

He sighs at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?”

“The… the song’s over.”

He shakes his head, gripping you firmly. “Have another dance with me,” He insists.

You laugh, amused. “Well, alright, if you insist. I suppose one more couldn’t hurt.”

So you indulge yourself in this fantasy a little more, playing at fake lovers as the music resumes and he twirls you around. You wonder if it’s the dance or the dancer that’s suddenly making you dizzy in the most intoxicating way possible.

Howl seems to notice the way you cling to him, the way your eyes never leave his. For a moment, he’s quiet. He’s just focused on the sound of your breathing, the feeling of your hand in his, the motion of your body mimicking his movements as he guides you across the dance floor. Then he breaks the silence with the first thing he can think of, “Don’t dance with anyone else tonight. You know as well as I do that no one else is going to be a better partner for you than me.”

You’re surprised at his bluntness. “Well, now that’s an interesting request. You’re right, I don’t think I’ve ever met a better dancer, and I’m not sure I’ll ever meet anyone again that’s as good as you are. But I have… certain obligations.”

He sighs, the disappointment obvious in his voice. Before he can protest, the song ends. He’s just about to request another dance from you when your former partner walks up to you, requesting your company. Howl stills. You watch his reaction carefully, looking back and forth between him and your suitor, but then you make your decision. You reluctantly take the nobleman’s arm, saying to Howl with as encouraging a smile as you can muster that there are no shortage of pretty women here tonight and he has no shortage of pretty lines, you’re sure he can find someone else to entertain him. Then you let the man lead you away, only turning back to look at Howl once more, before disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, Howl is frozen. He’s still clinging to the feeling of you in his arms, still wondering if the short time you’d spent with him meant anything to either of you. Was it just playful banter? Or was it a spark of something more? Before his thoughts can collect themselves, his feet have already begun to move in the direction you went in; he’s unsure why they’re pulling him towards you, you’re just a stranger he’ll never see again, and you’re right that he has no shortage of women to choose from, but on the off chance there could be something between the two of you, he allows his feet to guide his path.

When he finally stumbles around long enough to find you, it appears you’re leaving the party. He thinks to himself that you must’ve gotten tired of playing the trophy because you’re feigning sick and you excuse yourself from the party. He’s shocked that your poor excuse for a suitor hasn’t noticed you’re not really sick and he’s even more shocked when the man waves you off, telling you he’ll fetch you in the morning. Howl scowls at the word “fetch” as if you’re some sort of pet. He wants to wring the man by the neck, but then you make your way out the front door and he follows close behind.

You wave down a carriage, talk to the driver a moment, and then are helped inside.

He thinks he might’ve just lost his chance with you, but then you poke your head out the window and call to him, “Are you coming or not?”

His eyes widen as you gesture to the seat next to you, but he quickly recovers from his surprise and he slips into the carriage, closing the door behind him. His thigh brushes up against yours as he takes up position beside you.

“I’ve asked the driver to take the scenic route home, I hope you don’t mind.” You try to keep your voice calm and level as you attempt to ignore the warmth of his leg seeping into yours.

“And why is that?” He peers down at you, curiously.

“More time to get to know you.” You shrug simply, but you know your intentions are anything but subtle.

He laughs softly. “I’d like that.”

As the carriage rumbles on through the night, you exchange stories and easy banter, only pausing occasionally to admire the scenic view out the window with him. You find it pleasantly surprising how comfortable you are next to him, how easy it is to sink into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, how soothing his voice sounds when he tells you about his life. You were strangers mere moments ago, but now, now you felt like kindred spirits.

He admits to you that he’s into the practice of magic, and he braces himself for your reaction. You’re unsure if he expected you to burn him at the stake for witchcraft, dive from the carriage screaming, or whimper on the floor, begging him not to eat your heart. But you do none of those things. Instead, you smirk at him, and say, “Magic? So, something like this?” And you hold your hand up for him, a purple ball of fire manifesting itself in your palm.

He blinks. “You… you practice magic? You’re… a witch?”

“And you’re a wizard. So we’re two of a kind, I guess.”

He scratches his head and chuckles. “I guess we are. I was not expecting that, I’ll be honest. Pretty girl like you; now I know you can burn my hair right off my head if I’m not careful.”

You laugh. “Exactly, you better be careful I don’t turn you into a frog.” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

He scoffs, feigning offense, but he seems to be more relaxed with every discovered commonality the two of you share.

The two of you spend the next few moments showing each other your tricks, trying to outdo each other with the more impressive spell. He pulls a bouquet of flowers out of thin air for you, then you turn his flowers into chocolates and pop one in his mouth. When he licks his lips, you almost want to lick them for him.

At one point, you comment that you like one of his rings and he immediately takes it off and slides it on your pointer finger, telling you to keep it, telling you it’ll lead you to him if you ever so desire. He secretly hopes you’ll use the ring so much it breaks.

Then the carriage jostles as it rounds a corner and you find yourself in his arms again. You think he might kiss you. You think you might kiss him. But then the carriage pulls to a stop in front of your house, and you internally curse the ride for not being long enough. You think to yourself that you should’ve instructed the driver to go a couple more laps around your house before stopping, but it’s too late now. The dream has ended and reality has started to seep in.

“Well… this is my stop. I’ve instructed the driver to take you anywhere you’d like after I’m gone. It was… it was nice to meet you, Howl.” You pull yourself from his lap and disappear into the night, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts for company.

The next morning, your suitor does indeed fetch you. He takes you for a tour of the town, buying you anything your heart so desires. He doesn’t notice that no matter what he buys you, the ring on your pointer finger will always be your most prized possession.

Howl is having breakfast at a restaurant across the street and when you step out of a boutique in your newly purchased gown, he almost chokes on his tea. He’s not had more than a second to soak in the sight of you when your suitor steps out from behind you. Howl grips his cup tightly, knuckles turning white from the exertion. Then he notices your date kissing your hand before parting ways with you. He wants to burn the man’s lips off for daring to press them to your skin, but he thinks you’ll be long gone before he can speak to you again, so he makes the decision to quickly pay for his food and take off down the street after you.

You slip into an abandoned alley and he wonders where you could be going.

He hopes it’s somewhere safe, he’s nervous about the location. When he pokes his head around the corner, you’re leaning against a wall, waiting for him.

He sheepishly approaches you. “I gather you noticed me then?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “A tall man with bright blonde hair in a bright pink coat? Yeah. It was hard to miss you.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I suppose it would be.”

“I have to say, I’m surprised to see you again so soon after last night. I didn’t think I‘d ever see you again.”

Howl stills. The disappointment in his face is clear. If you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, then what was the point of all that chemistry? “And… and what if I wanted to see you more? What would you say to that?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’d say… that I’m supposed to be getting engaged soon and it might not be a good idea.” You say slowly.

He scoffs. “Oh, it’s not a good idea and that’s why you’re waiting for me, alone in an alley? You weren’t acting that way last night. What changed?”

You sigh. “Howl, you’ve a bit of a reputation, do you know that? All the noblewomen were fawning over you this morning at breakfast.”

He rolls his eyes. “And why do they matter when I’ve got you?”

“You’ve not got me, Howl. I’m not yours. I’m… supposed to be getting engaged.” You repeat, knowing you sound like a broken record.

Suddenly he pushes you up against the brick wall. “Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re not mine. Not until you’ve properly given me a chance.” His gaze is firm yet pleading.

You pull away from him. “Howl, last night was fun, but-”

He cuts you off, pulling you back by the wrist. “Last night was just fun? Last night was the best night I’ve had in my entire life and don’t tell me you didn’t feel the same. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about kissing me when you fell into my arms, because I thought about kissing you. Hell, I thought about kissing you the rest of the night after you left.”

You bite your lip. “So… why didn’t you?”

He scowls at you. “Because you’re ‘soon to be engaged’ or so you say. Which is complete bullshit by the way.”

“Howl…” You start again, unsure of what to say. “I’m the eldest daughter, I’m supposed to marry someone respectable.”

“So marry me. I’ll be respectable. I’ll be anything you want me to be, just let me be yours.”

You almost melt at his words. Almost. “Howl, we barely know each other, you can’t say you want to marry me.”

He rolls his eyes. “So? I know you enough to know I want you. Do you know the guy you were with?”

You look down. “He’s… a friend of a friend… of a friend.”

“So you barely know him too. So why can’t it be me? Why not marry me?”

“Because if I love you I might never stop loving you,” You snap. “And I’ve got a household to run, I can’t afford to be so careless, not when you could be running into some other woman’s arms behind my back.”

He pulls you closer to him. “So don’t stop loving me. I swear, I’ll never leave you. I’ll be useful to you. I’ll never even look at another woman. You use magic, you can just set my eyes on fire if I try to look at someone else.”

You laugh against his chest. “Oh, Howl. I’m not going to light your eyes on fire.”

He relaxes when he hears your laugh. “I know, I’m just offering. I’d offer anything to get you to stay. To get you to be mine.”

You sigh. “No other women right? Just me?”

He nods emphatically.

“And you’re going to spoil me rotten? So much that I forget I dumped my rich boyfriend?” You ask, half teasing.

He nods again. “I’ll give you the entire world on a silver platter, gold if you want it.”

“Well then, make it gold, and you can kiss me.”

“Done.” He whispers against your forehead. Then he trails kisses down your forehead to your nose. When he finally claims your lips, the kisses are passionate but gentle, like he doesn’t want to smother you with his love, but he also wants to reassure you his feelings are genuine.

When he’s finally done pressing the evidence of his affection for you against your lips, he pulls away to declare to you, “I know it’s only been a day that we’ve known each other, but I don’t want to go another day without you.”

And then your heart melts.

“Alright, love, alright. I’m yours. I’m all yours. But if you break my heart, remember I said I’d turn you into a frog.”

“I can live with that.”

And when he slides the ring off your pointer finger and nestles it around your ring finger, you swear you’re in love with him too.

——————————————————————————-

Author’s Note: yes, I’m aware it is super cheesy to do a whole “love at first sight, they’ve only known each other for a day thing” but hush, we ignore that for the sake of plot okay? We love Howl, anyone sane would fall for that man at first sight. And yall know I’m not into long fics, this was running way over and that was only from two days worth of content, can you imagine if I wrote their relationship over months? The ADHD in me cannot take the slow burn. We need the fast burn and we need it now. That is all.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Iceberg Siren pt 3

**a little Sunday morning treat for you all! Hope you enjoy!**

Jason stood in the corner of the ballroom, holding a delicate flute of champagne and scowling at any socialite who tried to approach him. Damian was standing next to him, suit impeccable, scowling even harder than Jason.

Bruce had dragged the whole family here, as it was a charity gala for orphans that the Wayne Foundation had set up. Damian had spent the evening before arriving arguing that he ‘wasn’t an orphan’ and ‘shouldn’t be forced into this farce of an evening’. Jason was just bitter that he’d been pulled away from an evening of patrol.

With a sigh, he patted Damian on the shoulder and then made his way out into the throng, smiling politely at the old money that poisoned the city as he made his way towards Bruce, who was holding court on the other side of the ballroom.

Also approaching the philanthropist was the Penguin, with a sparkling date on his arm. Said date patted Cobblepot on his arm before separating from him, turning in Jason’s direction with a smile.

“Mind lending me a dance? Boss has business he wants to talk about, and I’m bored.”

Jason blinked, holding out his empty hand almost on autopilot as the young man in the glittering silver and green dress came towards him. A waiter appeared at his elbow to take his champagne flute, and Danny Nightingale, Iceberg’s Siren, smiled at him.

“Of course! You look- stunning.”

It was true- Danny’s dress, with thin straps and a deep cowl neck, clung to his figure attractively, fanning out into a mermaid skirt at his knees. It was a satiny silver, with tiny green crystals sewn in that caught the light and reflected back thousands of sparkling pinpricks. He wore a dripping necklace of greenish white crystals, and a his black hair was swept back to reveal matching earrings.

Jason found himself staring into Danny’s eyes a mite too long to be appropriate when Danny smirked at him.

“Thanks, Red. Shall we?”

With his mind racing, trying to remember half-finished dancing lessons from Alfred, Jason escorted Danny to the dance floor and took position with his other hand on Danny’s waist. The crystals shifting underneath his hand felt oddly cold, almost like ice, but Jason put it down to his own nerves acting up.

They waltzed for a few moments in silence, Jason focusing on not stepping on his partner’s dress, before Danny spoke up.

“I’m not fond of these things. Rich people showing off that they have money.”

“Me neither.’ Jason muttered in response, accidentally catching Tim’s wide stare from across the room. ‘Just out of curiosity, how did you know it was me?”

Danny laughed, a bright, tinkling noise that made Jason’s cheeks warm.

“You stand out in a crowd.”

“You’ve only seen me in a mask or helmet before.” Jason frowned a little, noticing Dick and Cass also watching from their respective clusters of sycophants.

It was another few moments of silence before Danny answered.

“You’ve died. That leaves pretty distinctive marks to those of us who know where to look.”

The song ended before Jason could think of an answer, and Danny swept away without another word, returning to Penguin’s side with a genuine-looking smile.

“Todd.”

Damian appeared at his side, staring very hard in the direction Danny had left in.

“What, brat.”

“Who was that and why were they cozying up to you?”

“A friend.”

“Looked like more than that, Little Wing.” Dick appeared from behind, a grin on his face that promised mischief. “Timmy’s already looking him up.”

He felt Batman’s eyes on him, and turned to see Bruce’s piercing stare over the heads of the crowd, and Cass up on tiptoe, whispering into his ear.

Jason slid into his safe house through the window, wincing as his suit caught in the wound on his side. Angrily, he unlatched his helmet and threw it across the room. Sloppy. He’d been sloppy, and he’d gotten hurt because of it. If he’d only listened to B- no. No, if only he’d been more careful in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jason groaned, already planning the best way to get back at his ridiculous family.

~~~

Danny was being followed, and he knew it. The person following him didn’t seem hostile, but he was never sure in Gotham.

Honestly the city wasn’t that different from Amity Park, what with how vigilant he had to be on a regular basis.

With a sigh, he turned a corner and let invisibility wash over him, moving to the side so his follower would appear.

Soon enough, they did. It was a teenager with a hood pulled up over his head. When he looked around and couldn’t see Danny, he clicked his tongue and then held a hand up to his ear.

“Oracle, I lost the target near the divide between Robbinsville and The Bowery- do you have any cameras?”

By the way the young man reacted, whoever he was talking to had replied in a negative- Danny had chosen this alley because the only camera aimed toward it was broken.

“Curses. We will never find Todd’s paramour if this continues this way.”

It was all Danny could do to keep from laughing. This was about the gala a few weeks ago, where he had dragged one Jason Todd into a dance, dropped the ‘you died’ bomb, and then left the poor man hanging.

Was it unkind of him? Probably.

Did he really want to talk about such things while wearing a tight dress and heels? No.

The teen left the alley, and Danny popped back into visibility. It looked like it was time to find the half-formed halfa.

~~~

Gotham’s underworld had become bolder and bolder the longer the Joker was silent. He knew they weren’t aware the clown was dead, but their willingness to cause trouble in territories that weren’t theirs was starting to grate on his nerves.

He peeled off his domino mask, dropping it on the table carelessly, before shrugging out of his leather jacket. He flung that across the couch, and then made his way into the bedroom to change out of his other gear.

He’d finally gotten his kevlar off and started patching himself up in the bathroom when there was a knock at the door, and something told him he needed to answer it. He did so, shirtless because he didn’t particularly care if Dick saw his scars, and with a frown because he was in pain.

It wasn’t Dick.

Danny Nightingale stood there, shuffling nervously, one hand carding through his riot of black hair.

“Hi. I think we need to talk.”

~~~

Danielle “Dani” Phantom was bored. Frostbite had pronounced her sufficiently stabilized, and she hadn’t yet sussed out where her original had ended up.

He was a petty dingus for leaving her behind to have fun on his own. Well. Not really. He’d banned all ghosts from their home dimension for their safety, and then he told Dani to ‘rest and recuperate’ like she was some sort of invalid.

Melting was only a disability if she let it be one.

“Princess Danielle.”

She turned to see Clockwork floating behind her, swapping through ages like some demented PowerPoint.

“I have a place for you to go.”

“Is it where Danny is?”

Clockwork tilted his head to the side.

“It is a place you will find joy.”

Dani put her hands on her hips and glared at the unhelpful jerk.

“Don’t want joy, I want-”

Clockwork lifted a hand, and Dani felt herself falling through a portal.

She landed on her back on the concrete of a tall building, the bright sun almost blinding her after having spent so much time in the realms.

“-my brother.”