#Everyone Likes Tea (Once Upon a Time AU)

[thestrangepoet]

The Ninth Life | The Magnus Archives One Shot

Based on @ultramarinaa's Cat!Martin AU, and not upon @coworkerjonathan's soul-destroying tragic version of it. If you want that version, it's here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Buttocks-clenchingly sweet fluff. 

DISCLAIMER: I, once again, wrote this in an hour and haven't proofread it. Forgive the typos and any “first draft” vibes. 

──── •✧• ────

[CLICK] 

Oop, yup, it’s on! Right, erm…This is Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I thought it would be a good idea to—

[A VERY LOUD, VERY RASPY HISSING CUTS MARTIN OFF]

[A LONG, WEIGHTY PAUSE FOLLOWS; SOMEONE IS BEING GLARED AT]

What? I-I mean, given the absolute palaver we just went through, shouldn’t we record what happened and how we fixed it? 

[SILENCE FOLLOWS. BUT MARTIN EVIDENTLY GETS HIS ANSWER]

Exactly! Right, so…ah-hem. This is Martin Bla—

[ONCE AGAIN, A LOUD HISS]

What? What is wrong with—No, Jon, you’re going to hit the—!

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[MARTIN RUFFLES SOME PAPERS, THEN EXHALES LOUDLY THROUGH HIS NOSE. WHEN HE SPEAKS THIS TIME, IT’S SOMEWHAT TAUT]

Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding an encounter with a feline-based Leitner book called The Ninth Life. Recorded by subject, October 17th, 2017.

Happy now? 

[LOUD PURRING NEAR THE TAPE RECORDER SIGNIFIES THAT MARTIN HAS INDEED DONE A PASSABLE JOB]

Good, good. Right, oop! Yeah, okay, you can…sit on my lap while I record this. That’s not…that’s not weird at all. Knowing you’re…you’re Jon. 

…You could at least sit like a cat, Jon. No, no, no, don’t get the claws out, it’s fine! Sit how you want! Heh…K-keeping an eye on me, hmm? While I record? Oh, r-right, yeah, ‘Get on with it, Martin’, noted!

So…about ten weeks ago, I came across a book while tidying through some of the old statement boxes. I’m not sure why it wasn’t in the library or in Artefact Storage, but I suppose that’s a mystery for another time. A-anyway, I had a flick through to try to figure out what it was. Could have just been a normal book, you know? E-especially since it wasn’t put away properly, I mean, really, that’s a health and safety risk that wasn’t my fault, and—Ow! Claws! 

R-right, ‘Stay on the subject, Martin’, loud and clear…

Where was I? O-oh, right. So I took it through to the break room, sat down with it, flicked through, read a few…err, well, ten pages to be precise, and basically, it was written like an old fairy tale. Something about a man who turned into a cat to get away from everyone and…W-well, what I’m trying to say is that it didn’t seem like a Leitner! 

I’d probably have finished reading the whole thing, but the microwave dinging made me jump and look up. No one usually uses the microwave outside of lunch hours, but Jon actually makes cups of tea by microwaving mugs of water and then—Ah-ah-ow! N-no, I’m not getting claw-bullied into not telling people the heinous way you make tea, Jon! 

Right, right, fine! Yes, so, microwave dings, I look up from the book, and…I drop the book. And I drop to the floor, a-and the book’s suddenly huge, and there’s Jon, and he’s looking at me, and…

…and I was a cat. I-I-I guess Jon hadn’t noticed me in the break room before putting his mug in the microwave, because he didn’t realise I was me. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up, held over his shoulder, petted and cooed at and—Owwww, claws, claws! Right, okay, no, no one can know Jonathan Sims has a heart, right you are! 

E-erm, so…Yeah. Panicked a bit. I-I tried to make it obvious to the others that it was me, but they just didn’t cotton on. And I couldn’t read the book to figure out if the ending would tell me how to turn back. O-or if I even would turn back. Honestly, in any other situation, I-I might have been really terrified, but it’s hard to keep worrying when people are suddenly stroking you and giving you all this affection. Heh, Jon even named me Champion. 

But, right, I-I really needed to turn back into a human. You know, as lovely as it was to be liked by everyone, I figured, well, it’s deeply unprofessional to turn into a cat at work, isn’t it? And I really didn’t want to be written up for unauthorised absences when I was technically in the room? 

It took a while – I don’t know who moved it, but the book had gone when I managed to slink back into the break room, had to wait for someone to open the door for me, you see – but I eventually found The Ninth Life again. 

It took ages to drag it over to Jon’s desk. And even longer for him to stop laughing and telling me what dedicated little chap I was. He picked up the book though, and I got so excited that someone would finally realise a Leitner was in play that I jumped up onto his desk and…

…and I…erm…I knocked his cup of tea over the book. 

I could feel my heart sinking. What if I’d ruined it? What if the answer was all smudged up? Jon could tell I was upset, and he started trying to pet me and calm me down, mopping up the tea and everything. Took a while before he got back to the book, and, well…the bookplate had been smeared by the spilt tea, I guess, because he didn’t see any mention of Leitner at the front. He started reading the book, and I tried to nudge him to read the back pages first, to get to the answer before the book could turn him into a cat, but he, erm…well, he read it. Five pages, we think. 

And there he was. 

One minute, Jon’s at his desk, the next, there’s a little black cat with too many scars sitting in his chair. 

Well, after he’d stopped hissing, running around the room – Tim thought he had zoomies, ha ha! – and bapping me on the head every time I got close, he realised who I was. 

And then, he bapped me on the head again. 

So. We were both cats! And it’s so funny, because in the office, Tim and Sasha and me, we all say how Jon gives off major black-cat energy? He’s like this poor wet cat in human form, and now that he was a cat, and it turned out, he is…w-well, he’s not very good at being a cat? 

[A LOUD HISS – EVIDENTLY, MARTIN HAS FORGOTTEN JON IS SITTING THERE]

Don’t hiss at me! You know it’s true. I mean, look, you’re literally sitting in my lap now like a human. Cats don’t do that, Jon! It looks weird! 

R-right, okay, let’s, erm, get on with the story – ah, statement, statement! – before I get scratched again. 

S-so, right, Jon wasn’t really getting the hang of being a cat. He kept clambering up onto desks to type on keyboards, trying to tell Tim what was happening. He wouldn’t even jump up onto the desks, he would literally shimmy up the leg like he was climbing a tree. And, yeah, he doesn’t sit in your lap like a cat, all curled up, no no, he sits…like a person sits. So I figured actually, this was pretty good, someone had to realise something was up with this cat that just wasn’t catting. 

But no. No, no, Tim just laughed and named Jon Skrunkly and got on with his day. 

[A LONG, LOW MIAOW OF CONTEMPT IN THE BACKGROUND]

Nooo! You’re not skrunkly at all, Jon! You’re a very handsome little kitty!

[A HISS]

Right, right! Back to work! Erm, yeah, so, there I am, trying to teach Skr–err, Jon how to act more like a cat. Not because it would help get us back to normal, but because I was worried? He kept falling off stuff, not landing on his feet…jumping and missing things…He was having a really hard time, and I figured if we were stuck like this indefinitely, it might help to, you know…teach him a bit? 

And then, one day, he just…vanished. I wandered in one morning from the canteen, ‘cause Sasha had snuck me a plate of milk, and I couldn’t find Jon anywhere. Tim realised pretty quickly that something was up, that I wouldn’t settle down, and then he noticed Skrun–err, Jon, was missing. 

It took days for me to sniff him out. Which is…a really weird thing to say out loud. On record. Erm. I sniffed my boss out. But it’s insane, as a cat, the difference in senses, a-and to be honest, my eyesight was dreadful because I obviously couldn’t wear my glasses. A-anyway, sniffed him out, and realised he had somehow fallen into the tunnels through the trapdoor? Which is weird as well, ‘cause the trapdoor is always closed. No one would have opened it? 

[ANOTHER LOW MIAOW, BUT THIS ONE SOUNDS STRANGELY LIKE SKRUNKLY IS TRYING TO SPEAK – IT ALMOST SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYING ‘SASHA!’]

I know, Jon, you’ll tell us when you, erm, get back. 

So, now I knew where he was, I went into full hyperkitty mode. I was zooming around, miaowing, pawing, jumping on Tim, jumping at Tim, launching myself off bookshelves, you name it! Somehow, I managed to get the message across, and Tim went to open the trapdoor. 

I…I hate going into the tunnels. I really, really hate it. But Jon was down there, and as far as we knew, he’d been down there with no food and water for days! So, down I jumped, with Tim clambering after me telling me to slow down. I kept sniffing, and it was actually pretty easy to find him after that! 

There he was, curled up and shaking near a wall, and I ran towards him, miaowing my head off so he knew we were coming to the rescue, and…

And I…changed back. Right there. Just pop! There I was. 

Tim, erm…Tim screamed. Jon hissed and nearly ran away. It was chaos, and…I’m actually surprised all three of us made it out. Especially with Jon going wild on Tim and clawing him every time he tried to pick him up. What was that about, anyway, we were helping you!

[ANOTHER GRUMBLING MIAOW – DID SKRUNKLY SEE SOMETHING IN THE TUNNELS? OR SOMEONE? WAS HE TRYING TO TELL THEM?]

We got back up to the office, Jon in tow, and now that I could speak, Tim, Sasha and I managed to hash out a theory. 

Basically, we figure that there are a lot of Leitner books that kind of do different things depending on how much you read of them. S-so we have one on record, A Disappearance, if you read one line, you disappear for a bit. But, if you read the whole book, you disappear from the world for good. 

I read ten pages of The Ninth Life, and I was a cat for ten weeks. Checks out! So we reckon Jon read about five pages, and it’s been three weeks, so…two weeks of Skrunkly to go!

Right, think that’s it. Yeah! So, erm, if you’re looking for a cure for The Ninth Life, just enjoy your time as a kitty and wait it out! U-unless you read the whole book, in which case, erm…I-I really hope you enjoy your life as a cat. 

End recor–Ow! What did I miss off this time? 

[SEVERAL LIGHT THUDS SOUND]

Why are you pawing the book, Jon? I…oh. Right. 

Erm…I think Jon wants it on record that, erm…the book is eleven pages long. And…and I read ten pages. 

[THUD-THUD-THUD!]

Yes, yes, all right, you microwaving your tea saved me from an eternity as a cat! That does not mean I am going to let you continue to ruin perfectly good cups of tea like that!

[A LOUD MIAOW OF PROTEST. MARTIN SIGHS]

Recording ends. 

[CLICK]

[todofics]

Off The Market | 3/6 | Todoroki Shoto x Reader

♡ Summary: The Todoroki name had always borne a heavyweight amongst even society’s finest. When the family’s youngest son, and heir to the title, is forced into the marriage market, it’s no surprise that he quickly becomes the season’s most eligible bachelor—hoping to avoid marriage for at least one more season, who better than to circumvent the ton other than his long-time friend, you? 

♡ Content: regency au, fake-dating trope, aged-up characters, age gap (4 years), mutual pining, fem reader, fem pronouns, mature content in future chapters 

♡  Author notes: Fair warning, but I did not bother to reread this before publishing - something possessed me, and I sat down and banged this out in one sitting. Yeah. Sorry for the delay, but I've been working 6 days a week to make up for the fact that it's flu season (health care is not for the weak). Hopefully, this is still understandable enough for you to enjoy!

♡ 2.5k /est. 15k words (chapter 3/6)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Main Masterlist ♡  MHA Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡  Next

Shoto left minutes after your agreement with hushed promises to see you later that night, your face only slightly warmer and his with a sly grin gracing his captivating features. God, you could stare at that smile for hours - wait. You shook your head rapidly, lightly slapping your cheeks as you tried to calm your racing heart. Bad (Y/n)! This entire thing was supposed to renew the interest of others in you, not give you fluttery thoughts about your long-time friend.    

Fanning yourself in an attempt to cool down, the sound of your mother clearing her throat caused you to jump in your seat; right, she was in the room. In the midst of these new bubbling feelings rising in your stomach, you’d just… forgotten. It wasn’t like you to be so ditsy, but you weren't entirely used to having a chaperone for you and Shoto. It may have been the norm to have a chaperone for young girls and their potential suitors, but the two of you never had that kind of relationship, and your parents trusted you enough to be alone (at least as long as you were out of the public’s eye).

Until now, you had never even thought of him in that manner. Sure, you knew he was attractive - everyone did, and it wasn’t like you were blind - but the thought of anything more than that just never crossed your mind. Although you had been childhood friends, your families were simply leagues apart: you, a lowly untitled noble, and him, a future Duke. That type of pairing was uncommon (if not nearly impossible) in society.

Nevertheless, you knew your mother would have dozens of questions about the seemingly out-of-nowhere courtship; not once since your debut had Shoto shown an ounce of interest in you (at least not in that way). Indeed, it didn’t look good to anyone that suddenly, with an arranged marriage on the horizon, he was showing up to your estate on the premise of being a “caller.” Your mother was old, but she wasn’t dumb; anyone with half a brain could see the potential scheme the two of you were whipping up. Even if she was becoming desperate for you to finally make a match, this was fishy at best. Hopefully, the two of you seemed interested enough to put those potential rumors at ease; after all, everyone longs for a love based upon the foundation of friendship. With a raised brow, she finally ushered you over, drinking her tea calmly as if today was just another day. 

“Explain.”

You knew you could never lie to your mother, but you had to at least try. Continuing to fan yourself, the nervous sweat dripped down your forehead - was it hot in here, or was it just you? (It was just you; the full effect of the Summer heat had yet to hit, and the morning time was quite cool). “Explain what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly to add to the picture of naivete. 

She sighed, taking yet another sip of her tea; your mother, thankfully, was never the pushy type. 

“I do not know what exactly the two of you are planning, but whatever it is, you need to be careful,” she urged, her tone serious as she looked at you suspiciously as if to gaze directly through you and into your mind. You gulped, flashing her a half-hearted grin in an attempt to reassure her. Typically, besides Shoto, your mother was your closest confidante, but perhaps it was best if she didn’t know about this. You already knew that if she did, she’d give you an earful and forbid you from seeing the boy (and that was a fate you’d rather not be forced into). 

“I promise you, mama, we aren’t planning anything,” you swore, setting down the fan and opting to raise your hands defensively. She continued to give you that pointed look, only humming in acknowledgment at the promise after a moment of pause. She knew you better than that, but pushing was never the answer with you (she couldn’t change your mind once it was made up anyway).

You knew she meant well with her concern, but you were a grown woman - seriously, you had been out in society now for four whole years - and you could make your own decisions. You were more than capable of protecting yourself.

With one last look over, she sent you away, commenting that you were dressed far too casually for a calling with the future Duke and to dress better for the ball tonight. With a groan, you merely nodded, allowing yourself to be whisked away by a maid to be adequately showered and dressed; even if your mother was suspicious, she still found public opinion far too important (at least to your taste).

Later that evening, dressed to the nines in one of your best gowns and fanciest pastes, you stood with your back pressed to the wall again, swirling a glass of champagne around as you stared aimlessly at the crowd. Although you’d typically be talking with the girls, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to join the conversation tonight, instead choosing to listen to the bits and pieces of gossip they seemed to be so entranced by. This time, however, appeared to be a bit different; although you’d have to really be looking for it to be obvious, you could feel a few glances being cast upon you. It seemed rumors surrounding you were already being spread. None of the other girls seemed to notice the rhythm of the conversation continuing without a lull. 

Although you weren’t quite sure what to expect from a “proper” courtship with Shoto (you hadn’t been seriously courted in years now - especially not from someone of high standing), you couldn’t help but look for the man in the crowd. Spotting him wasn’t difficult; his lean stature and peppermint hair made him stand out against just about anyone. It was still early into the ball, and he hadn’t quite made his way over yet, still greeting others of higher status as was expected. It wasn’t until about half an hour into the ball that he approached your little group as others in the area marveled at his presence. It wasn’t often that he found time to stop at the edges of the ballroom - especially not recently -  as he was often stuck directly in the center with his family, growing increasingly acquainted with the duties that came with being a future Duke.

“I hope I’m not imposing,” he started, his gaze resting on you as the girls seemed to move to allow room for him. “I was just going to steal (Y/n) for a moment,” Shoto finished, offering his hand to you expectantly. It was well-known that the two of you were childhood friends, so the event didn’t seem to stick out too much to your friends. That, however, didn't stop their apparent excitement.

“Not at all,” Mina chirped happily, the rest of the group nodding along. “Feel free to take her!” 

You offered him a weak smile, taking his hand as the girls seemed to giggle at the event (they never once believed you when you said you didn’t have feelings for him). “I hope your dance card isn’t full,” he mumbled, leading you to the center of the ballroom. Your eyes narrowed at the taller man; he definitely knew it wasn’t full. Was he daring to make a jest at you now after his promise? You hadn’t made an effort to dance in so long, nor had anyone made an effort to invite you. Maybe this was part of the reason why you had no prospects. 

“It isn’t,” you confirmed, grasping onto his hand a little tighter as the crowd grew denser toward the center of the room. Even if you had longed for someone to finally look at you, this was a bit much. Being with Shoto, in the center of the ballroom, you could feel the piercing stares of everyone in the room; all eyes were on you. 

To the strumming of orchestral instruments, Shoto wrapped his free hand around your waist, his other hand never releasing yours as he pulled you close - closer than you were ever accustomed to being. “I know,” he laughed teasingly, starting to sway rhythmically to the song in the background.

You puffed your cheeks out, pouting just a bit at him. Cute. “I knew it, you jerk,” you replied, following his lead; although you hadn’t danced in so long, the footwork was muscle memory. Maybe those dance lessons your mother forced on you weren’t so useless after all. 

“Just teasing,” Shoto chuckled, flashing you that boyish grin that seemed to be reserved for just you (at least you hoped so; you never truly saw him smiling as often with anyone as he did with you). You scoffed, allowing yourself to be dipped by the taller man as you moved together in perfect harmony.  It was as if you had done this dozens of times.

“And if anyone were to hear you?” you questioned, voice barely louder than the music. No one would hear, of course, but you still had to remind him that you were in public. 

“They wont.”

The song came to an end, but Shoto didn’t seem to want to separate, his grip on you tightening as you attempted to step away. “You want this to look real?” he asked, voice hushed as he continued to pull you along as the next song started. If anyone wasn’t looking before, they sure as hell were now. Shoto hadn’t willingly danced for more than one song in ages. Even Shoto, forced by his family, had only danced once throughout the entirety of the last season (and even then, that was with Fuyumi). With this, Shoto was making his intentions loud and clear for anyone to see - you were his. 

“People are staring,” you mumbled back, not doing much else to refuse. It was hard to refuse when he was looking at you like that. The intensity of his stare caused you to look downwards, focusing on the movement of your feet.

“Ignore them,” he said, momentarily releasing your hand to take your chin in hand as he directed your gaze back at him. He was quick to take your hand back into his, ignoring the way your (and many others) jaw dropped. “Just focus on me.” Rumors were definitely going to circulate after that. 

Although you were usually nervous about being the center of attention, the people staring seemed to fade into the background as you became entranced by Shoto’s eyes; something about being close to him was just so… relaxing. You could easily forget about all of your worries this way.

Shoto seemed to relax as well, letting his guard down as the two of you danced around for many more songs despite the whispers; although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he was most comfortable with you. Conversation with you was easy - simple. You didn’t flourish your words with the many niceties others in society seemed to; it was refreshing. In exchange for that bluntness, you got to see a side of Shoto he didn’t let others see - the teasing, fun, boyish side. People often forget that he, too, is a person - not just the future duke.

Throughout the various songs, your conversation with Shoto continued in that easy-going manner; you talked about everything and nothing at all. It had been so long since you had a chance to do this. To just… talk. 

“I missed this,” he interjected during a lull in your conversation, his eyes looking at you with a sort of fondness you weren’t familiar with (or did he always look at you this way? You hadn’t noticed). 

“What?” you asked, the aching of your feet starting to make itself known. You had to have been dancing with him for at least an hour now, and for someone who hadn’t danced in years, that in itself was a feat. 

“Talking to you like this,” Shoto finished his musing, a more gentle smile replacing that usual stoic expression on his face. Although the two of you were close, the last season had done a number on your friendship; his father, especially, had pushed him to focus on the family business, seeing his friendship with you as trivial. As of late, it felt like you could count the number of times you’d had an actual conversation with Shoto on one hand. 

You could feel that same fluttering feeling of butterflies starting again in your gut as your heart raced, “I missed it too.” God, he really knew how to make a girl’s heart race, didn’t he? A matching dumb grin colored your features.

“Hopefully, we can still talk like this after you find your future husband,” Shoto said, his expression almost wistful as he thought about the future. You were just such a good friend. Your smile immediately fell, reminding you what this plan was truly about. 

“Right,” you mumbled, gaze leaving his as you finally broke away from his grip, turning immediately to leave. That was enough for the night. Stupid Shoto and his damn bluntness. Stupid Shoto and his inability to understand anyone’s feelings but his own. “It’s getting late, and I’m tired. It’s about time I retire.”

He nodded in understanding, "Let me walk you out." You shook your head, opting to not respond verbally for fear that your voice would waver. "Then I'll see you tomorrow," Shoto resolved, staring at your retreating figure.

Hopefully, you’d turned around in time to not let him see the beginning of tears pricking your eyes. Hopefully, you were able to mask the hurt in your voice as you bid him goodbye. Hopefully, he couldn’t sense your urgency to get outside that suffocating ballroom.

Fuck. You had feelings for Shoto. Real, concrete, romantic feelings. 

Finishing out this deal would be more complicated than you thought. How could you possibly think you could avoid growing feelings for Shoto and his stupidly handsome face? For years, you knew Shoto had never intended to marry, so you had guarded your heart. You had been so careful. Now, here comes one little proposition, and you let your guard down. Stupid. This was so stupid. You were stupid.

Perhaps you should’ve set more ground rules and allowed for more distance between the two of you. It wasn’t like he was trying to make you fall for him. He was far too dense for that - far too dense to understand the effect that he had on people. He was clear from the beginning with you what he wanted, and it definitely wasn’t whatever this was. It wasn’t fair to him that you were upset at him over something he had no control over. 

You willed yourself to walk at a normal speed, your pace only increasing once you reached the outdoors. As you continued to run into cover of the evening, you felt like you could finally breathe. Wiping your tears, you took a deep breath and stepped into the carriage. He didn’t deserve this.

So, you steeled your resolve. Feelings be damned, you’d go through with this plan if it was the last thing you’d do.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist: @niineau 

ask to be added

[cottonlemonade]

omg this idea is so cute i love it so much🫶

can i have a medium, warm milk with honey to go for sunarin please?

Night Routine

word count: 509 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: University AU!Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy night routine with your boyfriend Suna

“I wanna go home.“, Rin whined as he slumped over, face pressed against the pages of his text book.

You highlighted a promising title on your reading list when you replied, “No one‘s stopping you.“

Your boyfriend turned his head to look up at you from the desk, narrowing his eyes in pouty annoyance, “No, your home.“

Suppressing a little chuckle you reached out to run your fingers through his hair and he grumbled but relaxed.

“Gimme like two minutes to go over this page again and then we‘ll leave, alright?“

Rin closed his eyes and nodded, enjoying your touch.

In fact, he asked for another 5 minutes of you playing his hair before he let himself be pushed off the chair to get going.

The library was quite empty when you walked through the big lobby, Rin’s fingers interlaced with yours, his step eager to finally reach freedom. Taking in the fresh night air in deep breaths he pulled you along. On the way back to your apartment you stopped to get a bubble tea and then discussed what kind of take-out you‘d order tonight.

Now, everyone and their front yard cherry tree knew that Rin was whipped for you but only few had ever seen the extent of it.

It usually started in the elevator. He‘d be behind you and wrap his long strong arms around your soft, squishy middle, resting his chin on your shoulder - or uncomfortably on your head when he felt like a menace. On colder days he would wrap his oversized jacket around you at this point, but since the weather was slowly getting warmer, he opted for an extra tight hug instead.

Clinging to you like this you‘d shuffle to your front door and fumble for your keys while he did absolutely nothing to help.

Once inside, it took a minute or two, followed by a lot of kisses for him to let you go.

As per usual, he jumped at the opportunity to shower first, taking great pleasure in trying out quite literally all your bath products and coming out of the bathroom smelling like a sweet fruit smoothie, the towel wrapped around his head like you taught him. He ordered the previously agreed upon take-out while you took a steaming hot shower that was long enough to slow cook a medium sized country chicken, and then joined him on the couch for a movie and cuddles. After finishing up your dinner - pizza that night - you‘d decide on a face mask and take turns applying it for the other. Suna would snap about a dozen pictures of you both pulling faces under increasing difficulty as the mud masks began to dry.

Then you‘d go to clean your faces, Rin making a mess of the sink in the process.

As you both brushed your teeth, he combed your hair, toothbrush hanging from one corner of his mouth.

He‘d give your butt a playful slap when he was done, offered you a minty fresh kiss and finally shuffled along behind you to bed.

a/n: thank you so much for your request! Please enjoy 😊🌟

for requests see here

[verysium]

『02』 原神: genshin impact recs

魈: xiao

preta by @itoshisoup

"People think that ghosts are born exclusively of resentment, but they can also be born of love. Between those driven by resentment and those driven by love, which do you think cling most strongly to their suffering?" Xiao replies without pause, his gaze unfocused yet fixed upon something you cannot see. "Love." After a yaksha saves your life on the Plains of Guili, you insist on joining him in his war against the evils of Liyue. As the two of you encounter hungry ghosts and resentful spirits, you learn about the ones haunting him. notes: incomplete but intricately woven together; heavy emphasis on chinese culture, wuxia/xianxia genres; if you have watched any historical cdrama, you will like this fic; xingqiu and chongyun are wrapped up into the dynamic; xiao wishes to protect you for centuries; him and his paradoxes; not being strong enough to be considered invincible but still strong enough to try

公子: childe

thin ice by @falconcoast

childe is that senior frat boy on teyvat university’s campus. the one who majors in economics because he’s on scholarship to play sports. the one who is way too loud and you can hear him all the way across campus. the one who’s daddy’s money rich because he’s already sponsored, even while just in the ncaa. the one who manages to get everyone to swoon over him.  oh, right. and your favorite title for him: the one hockey captain who hogs all of your free time to skate after lessons because he always steals it.  all you want to do is do your job and teach skating lessons to the kids to keep your mind off the year-old mess with your figure skating, maybe even get an hour of skating in afterwards as a reward. that is, until the hockey coach sits you down and tells you that surprise! you’re the new team manager for liyue’s hockey team! ...it can’t be that hard to manage twenty or so boys and their captain, childe, right? spoilers: it absolutely is.  notes: wonderfully curated modern skating/hockey AU; childe is so american white boy in this; teucer being adorable; diluc and kaeya sibling dynamic is well-established; university and post-grad plans; figuring out your life and then working other people into it

国崩: scaramouche

tea screen by @after-witch

The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers?  notes: forced marriage and abuse; tea ceremony; sort of reminds me of the edo period; examination of womanhood within a patriarchal society; sexy, sad, and scary all at once; i pity the reader at the end; cycle of love and violence

a simple cup of tea by @after-witch

You have to be prepared and poised and perfect. But it’s hard to be all those things, even with the looming threat of your husband sitting next to you, when you’ve got a secret hidden underneath your clothes... notes: reader grapples with lust and objectification; unhealthy dynamic but portrayed realistically in an almost historical setting; reader is unable to separate her identity as wife apart from her husband; women being defined in the context of men; could be a social satire on traditional gender roles if you squint

love is a dog from hell by @itoshisoup

"A will is something you don't have. That's why you'll follow mine." notes: this fic is the reason why i do not think the concept of ownership in love would translate well into real life because it would be so self-destructive; reader struggles with aftermath of abuse and mistakes possession for protection; realistic depiction of unhealthy relationships; the fatui is exactly the dark criminal organization it is supposed to be; human trafficking and child sexual abuse; scaramouche is so goddamn funny i can't

钟离: zhongli

spoil of war by @bye-bye-sunbird

In the dead of night, you hear the sea calling your name. Sometimes the sound is as soft as a love song, gracing your skin in a gentle breeze that lures you to the seashore where the waves can finally lay claim on you. Other times, the sea strikes the land in a deafening, challenging roar. "Really now... How long do you think those mountains of his will stand in my way?" notes: accurate depiction of characters because archon war morax was genuinely terrifying; zhongli trying to deny his obsessive tendencies; rivalry with osial; reader is essentially sanctified as a symbol of innocent purity; imagine having two spiritual gods pine after you while you are helplessly stuck in the middle of their tug-of-war and simultaneously trying to mourn; that is basically the entire premise of this fic

迪卢克: diluc ragnvindr

the parent trap by @falconcoast

twelve years ago, you got married to a man who had swept you off your feet in a little under two years. diluc was like a prince out a of storybook; effortlessly charming, strikingly handsome, and a kind man. you were supposed to live happily ever after at that winery, running a wedding planning empire, having a family, and growing old together.  until it all goes off script with a divorce. flash forward, and the only remnant of diluc that is with you is your daughter, dawn. the only piece of you that remains with diluc is your other daughter and dawn’s twin sister, phoenix.  it isn’t until both of your children get you and your ex-husband in a bit of mess that you realize that maybe, just maybe, you still harbor feelings for diluc.  or maybe it’s the wine talking. notes: one of my favorite comfort fics; i am a sucker for second-chance romance; diluc and reader now older but still being the same bumbling idiots they were when young; at this point the children have more situational awareness than them; based on the original movie; treat yourself to a cup of tea and a friday night with this work and trust me life will be good

博士: il dottore

deus in absentia by @bound-in-parchment

The first time was a coincidence. The second time was a fluke. But the third time? You were starting to think it was fate. Or, more likely, a calculated trap. notes: at this point we can just scrap whatever mihoyo puts out and use this work as canon instead; the world building is so originally creative; this author must possess such a giant sexy brain; reader is basically adopted by dottore and forced to be his apprentice/assistant; idea of losing yourself to your own ambitions; slow-burn to the max; reader is oblivious to full extent of feelings until it is too late; tragic to the point i need a time machine to resurrect them

dream a little of me by @bound-in-parchment

Celestia had a cruel sense of humor. He knew this, even before his days as a student. But to be given a soulmate? Now, when he openly blasphemed against the cursed island in the sky? He would outlive you and the dreadful fated bond that haunted your shared dreams. There was little point in this. He could at least put a Vision to good use. People were nothing but disappointments. He had no use for you. Until you pulled the bow across your instrument and awoke a part of him long buried by self-hatred and arrogance. notes: soulmate trope but with the two most aromantic fools to ever exist; zandik drowns himself in the river of denial; comic dynamic between segments; music and failed dreams; reader actually has a backstory dark enough to match dottore's character; does not shy away from the uncomfortable and gritty aspects of trauma, abuse, and literal mental insanity

chemistry / magnum opus by @jessamine-rose

In the realm of science, love and insanity are closely intertwined mysteries. Disillusioned with the world, you had long forgotten its beauty until the wise doctor gives you a change of perspective. notes: by far the most accurate characterization of akademiya zandik; he hates you then hates himself then hates the world for allowing your paths to cross; treats you as an objective experiment but then wonders why he's suddenly humanizing you; slow-burn; zandik is selfish and machiavellian and somehow you fit into that equation

the only hope i had was the freedom of death by your hands that held me together by @tiens-letters

It was a burden. The weight of the power you hold in all the land. Any human who has enough ambition would dare to covet it and any god even given divine powers would lust after it. You were powerful, able to end civilizations and make a new world altogether. Many would think that you are a sovereign being but you too are limited to mortality than what most would believe. You were human with a blessing of a god and you felt cursed and dirty. notes: honestly the ending made me so mad but take it as a good sign; basically entails the circumstances that would drive dottore to become somewhat capable of love; what is done cannot be undone; zandik finally meeting someone who is wiser and more depressed than him; deluding himself into thinking he could ever be domestically normal; somewhat idolizes/idealizes reader; themes of betrayal and misunderstanding

富者: pantalone

house cat / alea iacta est by @jessamine-rose

Your entire life has been a gilded cage. The gods refuse to grant your greatest wish, and so you have resigned yourself to the will of destiny. But what happens when the red string of fate is severed and replaced with the silver chains of the Regrator? notes: liyue nobility; dishonest business and financial deals; reader is a cat hybrid but i didn't notice until part two because the plot was so good; pantalone is the mastermind behind all his interactions with reader; heavy manipulation and orchestrations; wolf in sheep's clothing; alternate ending found here

隊長: il capitano

herbarium / fairytale / forget-me-not / astilbe by @jessamine-rose

You had long given up on wishes and happy endings. After what you believed to be the end of your tragic story, you resigned yourself to a shadow of a life with only your books and flowers to keep you company…until the vestiges of Windblume brought forth a mysterious stranger and a new ending for your dark fairytale. notes: capitano being the strong stoic protector of a delicately fragile reader; manipulation is so subtle and that is what makes it alarming; somewhat stirred my daddy issues because he is so parental; reader struggles between accepting his love versus hating him for taking away her personal agency; flower motifs

[auspicioustidings]

Closed

Teashop AU

Summary: You get sick, Price gets serious. Words: 2.2k TWs: death of a loved one

“Lieutenant I have a perimeter alarm, go have a look will you?”

Price only got a gruff sound of agreement as Ghost headed out. Owing to it being off the radar their base wasn’t on official records and didn’t have any sort of posted guards. If anything the building probably looked more like a mildly eccentric manor in the middle of the woods, so it wasn’t entirely outside the realms of possibility for folk to stumble upon it none the wiser.

It had only ever happened twice in the past 5 years since they had started using it and both happened within the last 2. Not really a coincidence given that’s around the time Faodail had opened. Not that any of them were complaining, they could redirect a few adventurous walkers away every so often if it meant they got to visit their favourite civilian in their favourite little teashop.

He needed to pay a visit soon. Had it really been two weeks since any of them had seen you? Work had just been so busy and none of them had made the time because they were exhausted. As far as he knew there hadn’t been any out of town visitors either. It must be calm and quiet for you without a bunch of rowdy military folk rampaging around. The thought made him smile. Maybe he should take you on a holiday to give you a full break. Since opening you had worked every day, even the day the shop was closed he knew you were busy getting deliveries, restocking and testing out new recipes.

“Captain!”

Oh Price did not like that tone on his Lieutenant at all. He snapped into work mode, loosening off his shoulders to be ready for a fight as he jogged to meet Simon half way, finding him just coming back into the base. Gaz and Soap came barreling around as well, both ready for whatever they were about to face. Ghost looked, well, like he had seen a ghost. 

“Report.”

“It’s George.”

“Dungeons and Dragons George?” Soap asked, relaxing ever so slightly.

George was a fixture at Faodail, bringing his group to play once a week. He came in a second time a week with his boyfriend as well (a relationship that had been built on months of very bad matchmaking attempts by you before Kyle had stepped in to help). Nice guy, totally harmless but for the obvious crush he had on you. His boyfriend was clearly fond of you and found it very cute. 

“The shop is closed.”

There was a moment of quiet while everyone tried to make sense of what they were being told.

“This isn’t usually the day it’s closed right? Maybe they just need to do maintenance” Gaz said, trying not to overreact to something so small. 

But then why had Dungeons and Dragons George tracked down the base to tell them if it was something so small? You had never shut the shop. It had been open when you had rolled your ankle and could barely walk, it had been open when a snowstorm had wiped out the power and you had to heat water over the fire and bundle everyone in blankets, it had been open when you had such a bad toothache that you were openly crying while making tea (it had been him and Soap there when it had happened and oh boy they had not handled it very well).

“It’s been closed for a week. He said last week they didn’t seem well, and then when he went in on Sunday the place was closed. Agnus brought the doctor around, she said they’ve gotten pneumonia while already fighting off the flu.”

Simon said it very carefully. He had to. He knew that while this was obviously causing him a great deal of worry, it was nothing compared to what Price was feeling. His Captain looked like his heart had stopped. The fury that came over him was sudden and frightening as he silently barged past and to the truck, yelling at George to go home. 

Simon gave the Sergeants a look and a shake of his head that said not to ask before they all went after him, climbing into the truck without a word. 

–

You could not remember ever being this ill. Everything hurt, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t sleep for coughing and when you coughed it felt like your ribcage had caught fire. At the start you had kept working, masked up with gloves. Then on day 4 you had woken up and barely been able to move. 

By the time you had walked from your little cottage to the shop you could barely see straight. The sign was flipped to closed and you had staggered back to bed and not left for more than stumbling to the bathroom since. 

Agnus had walked right in, taken one look at you and called for the doctor. You didn’t fully remember the conversation with the doctor, only that she gave you medicine and strict instructions to contact her immediately if it got any worse. You wouldn’t say it had, but it hadn’t gotten better. At least Agnus was keeping you fed even though you really did not want to eat any of the soup she fed you twice a day. She didn’t stay long which you were thankful for, she shouldn’t really be in the room with you at all in case she got sick.

It was the only way you were judging time at the moment, so when you heard someone in the room you assumed it must be evening if she was here to make sure you ate your soup.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell us?”

You cracked an eye open to find John Price crouched by your bed, his rough hand gently pushing back the hair that had become stuck to your forehead and cheek. He seemed so sad. 

“Wrinkles” you croaked, meaning to say a full sentence around that but not managing as you brought your own hand to the furrow in his brow to try to smooth it out. It took such an effort.

“Yeah, wrinkles” he said, sounding somewhat choked himself. 

Even though you sort of hazily remembered telling him he’d get sick, it hadn’t stopped him from staying with you. He fed you, made sure you took your medicine, bundled you up in his arms. You thought you heard movement around the house, other people. There were voices in the doorway to your room sometimes, comforting ones, ones you recognised as yours. 

–

“You’re taking the piss darling.”

You rolled your eyes. Sure the tea probably tasted spicy as all hell with the amount of ginger in it, but it would do him wonders. Predictably, Price had got the flu. Nowhere near as bad as you had gotten, but despite some teasing from his team he seemed more than content to stay in your bed and be looked after even if he was mostly better by now.

It was strange not working for so long. Now that you were on the mend and rebuilding strength you thought you’d be desperate to get back to it, but honestly it was nice to have the break.

“I told you not to stay with me and you didn’t listen, so drink up.”

He rolled his eyes, took another sip and then put the cup down on the bedside table so he could throw his arm out at a frankly alarming speed and drag you down into bed by the waist. It wasn’t that Price wasn’t a touchy feely person as such, but since he had arrived when you were ill he had developed Johnny levels of affection, always as close as he could get to you.

“Not a superior officer on this planet that could order me to stay away from you,” he said, wrapping himself around you and burying his face into your chest.

You played with his hair, feeling such a burst of fondness for him in that moment. You suspected there was a reason he was being like this, but you didn’t want to force him to tell you so you tried the subtle approach.

“I’m sorry if I made you worry…”

His chuckle tickled your chest. Ok, so maybe you were very bad at trying to be subtle and it had very much come out sounding like you were desperate to know just why he was so worried. You never had been any good at hiding how you felt. 

“She’d have really liked you. Would have kicked your arse for not telling us you were sick right enough, but she’d have liked you.”

You could feel tears pushing at your eyes already. He had lost someone and it just broke your heart to think about. You knew in principal that his line of work meant he must have lost so many people, but the way he talked about this one seemed different.

“Her family moved in beside mine when I was 10 and I hated her. She always beat me in any game we played and was the loudest, brashest brat I had ever met.”

“So you fell in love with her” you said with a smile, hearing it in his voice. 

He sighed and moved his head so he could lay facing you, just looking into your eyes.

“Hard and fast. She laughed at me the first time I asked her out on a date and the whole thing was a disaster. It rained, the restaurant was overbooked and the cinema projector broke down. We wound up at a McDonalds” he said, the nostalgia clear on his expression.

“The plan was always for me to work my way to a desk job. I didn’t want to be in active duty forever, just long enough to make a difference before getting into something safer and starting a family.”

“What happened?”

“She got sick. It happened fast, started with the flu and just got worse. I didn’t make it home in time to say goodbye.”

“Oh John, you must miss her terribly” you whispered, knowing you were crying but not able to do much about it. 

He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

“All the time. I didn’t have a reason to get that desk job. Didn’t really want to be home for long either, there wasn’t anything here for me.”

He thought that there was something here for him now. It had been in the back of his mind for a while now, the idea of a future beyond the job. Since he had lost his girlfriend all those years ago, he had just worked knowing as a fact that he’d die in service. But now that certainty was gone. Now he imagined growing old in a little cottage by a charming teahouse. He imagined getting you all to himself for some years before one by one the others would join. 

He hadn’t told anyone, but around a year ago he had started buying up the land surrounding yours, eventually connecting up to the base. He could admit to himself now that in his heart he knew he wanted to make more space for the family that had been built around you. 

“Take a holiday.”

“Hm?”

“Take a holiday with me. Let’s go somewhere warm for a few weeks and soak up the sun.”

You were taken aback by the suggestion. It sounded like a dream, but it was something more serious than stolen kisses and visits to your shop. You had never really thought for too long on what exactly this all was. You loved these people you had been lucky enough to meet. They didn’t seem to mind that you shared your affections between them so you had just let it develop. Did John want that to change?

“I can see your pretty little head working overtime luv. The others will want to take you places too, I know Alejandro just bought a vineyard near his hometown so I wouldn’t be surprised if he steals you away for a while. Should by rights be Soap getting to take you away first, but I outrank him so he’ll need to get over it.”

“I… the shop…”

“You were thinking about hiring help anyway.”

You were thinking about hiring help. You loved the shop and you wanted to work in it for the rest of your life, but it was hard going and you had the money now to afford to get help. Originally you had thought you’d probably find someone in the nearby town, but as if by magic (more likely by sneaky soldiers) you seemed to keep finding CVs from people with military backgrounds around the shop. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think Mr Sanderson sounded like he’d be a perfect fit for Faodail. 

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

The kiss he gave you then was toe curling and if it hadn’t been for the fact he was still a little under the weather you did not think you would have been able to leave the bed, but you somewhat dizzily clambered to get out of his hold and tumbled onto the floor rambling about how he needed to finish his tea. 

His laugh followed you to the hallway and you were so flustered that when Johnny immediately caught you and pressed you into the wall to steal kisses of his own, you could do nothing but completely give in and relax into him. 

Maybe getting sick wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Four / The Final Chapter

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

a/n: so. here we are - final chapter! i really hope i’ve done this ending justice. even got a bit emosh myself. i'd just like to say a HUGE thank you to everyone that has supported this fic, whether that be reading, interacting, sharing, anything. it's been a pleasure to post this story for you ♡ now... onto my next series idea!!

warnings: nothing really, just a tad bit emotional

wc: 2944

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

The Seventh Years Graduation

As from a dream, Draco woke with an air of blissfulness. His first morning with the girl he loved was cut short, a few messy kisses and promises of tomorrow before he was faced with the dark gates of his home once more. He was ready, more now than ever, to face the music that was his parents and their wishes for his pureblood marriage.

After leaving them in a whirl of confusion the night before, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly dreading the look on his mother's face once he sees her again. Draco could hear her now, scolding him for allowing his family to be shamed yet again, could picture the disapproving look his father would give him from the corner of his eye. He swallows thickly, but with the courage you had planted in him, he entered the foyer to be greeted with absolute silence. It wasn't as if being greeted by an empty home was unusual, it was just that at this moment, the silence was practically deafening.

He hesitated in calling out, but figured it would be worse if they knew he'd come home and not seeked them out first thing after yesterday's fiasco. "Mother? Father?" He called, only to be met with the slight echo of his voice in the quietness. Not even the house elf seemed to respond, and so, he wandered, cautiously, through to the drawing room they would usually reside in. When he entered, it appeared as if someone was there, a pot of tea and half drunk cup on the coffee table and the Daily Prophet sprawled out beside it.

"Hello?" He calls again, coming to a halt before the paper. The headline read "A Joyous Occasion: Returning Students to Graduate", and a rather lengthy article where Headmistress McGonagall had stated how 'utterly elated' she was for the returning seventh years after such a 'stressful and sorrowful time.' Draco flicks through a few more pages, various columns advertising products and, of course, Skeeter's addition. He huffs at her attempts, as the doorway suddenly darkens behind him.

"Draco." Lucius's voice comes at a shock against the silence of the room, Draco spinning on the spot to see his father, who, upon inspection, looked tireder than ever, "you have returned, I see."

"Father," Draco clears his throat, "is mother around?"

"I'm afraid she is not," Lucius said, gracefully crossing the room in an expensive looking gown, "She is collecting her dress for the graduation."

"Ah. Right." Draco breathes, questioning how his mother has simply continued with her graduation preparations.

With a flick of his wand, Lucius summons another tea cup, and steam begins to rise from the teapot. "Sit," he instructs his son, "there is something I wish to tell you."

Draco does as he's told, already aware that his actions had perhaps caused his mother to have a breakdown and leave his father looking like sleep had escaped him for at least a month. Lucius pours two fresh cups, and sips at the warm brew with a little satisfied hum. Draco, as if a guest in his own home, follows suit, sitting uncomfortably on the end of the couch.

"Not long after your mother and I graduated," Lucius begins, "there was an awful lot of talk about the Dark Lord and his success in becoming immortal. It was getting more and more apparent that this man was gaining an insurmountable amount of power."

Draco remained silent as his father took a pause.

"I, young and influenced, believed that following this Dark Lord was the right and just thing to do. My family held the same beliefs, as did your mother's. Swearing allegiance to him, in my inexperienced mind, made utter sense. The things I was doing... made sense. But what I've come to realise, in my doing so, I have caused undeniable pain to those dearest to me." Lucius stops, and looks Draco in the eyes, "and to you, most of all, it would seem."

"Father, I-"

"I often wondered what you may do now that the war was over and Voldemort is dead. I had pictured you following the same beliefs, marrying a pureblood and having children. Perhaps I was naive to think that those events hadn't changed you... that those around you hadn't changed you." Lucius said, ignoring Dracos interception. He could see a slight sheen over his father's eyes for the first time in his life, "what's her name, Draco?"

"Huh?" Draco sounds, a little dumbfounded, "oh, you mean Y/N? I-it's Y/N Y/L/N."

"Half blood?" Lucius asks, sipping his tea as Draco swallows another lump in this throat.

"Yeah," he nods, looking down at his cup, "her father is a muggle."

"I see." Lucius says simply, placing down his cup and saucer, "and do you love her?"

Draco almost chokes. Never did he think his father would ask him such a question, but here he was, looking at him with all seriousness. Even so, Draco's answer is strong and quick.

"Yes," he said without a beat, "more than anything."

Lucius nods yet again and rises.

"Then there is no more to be said," he announced, clearing the table with another flick of his wand, "we shall have to meet after the graduation. Perhaps over dinner."

As his father begins to leave, Draco stands from the couch, gaining his father’s attention. Confusion and elation courses through his veins.

"Is that it?" Draco challenges softly, "you're not going to scold me? Shout at me?"

"Would you still pursue this girl if I did?" Lucius asks calmly, "would you listen if I forbid you from seeing her? Even if I locked you in the highest room of this house, you would find a way to her, would you not?"

"Do I need to answer that?" Draco raises an eyebrow, and his father chuckles. The sound of it was so foreign to Draco's ears.

"Then I rest my case," Lucius holds his hands up, "your mother and I have spoken at great lengths, Draco. Your disappearance last night proved one thing - we have no right to hold you down any longer. I dare say, if someone had kept me from your mother, I may have gone insane."

"I love her," Draco finds himself saying, "and I'm going to marry her, father. No one else."

Lucius is quiet for a long moment, before cracking a slight smile.

"You seem to have found yourself," he says as he walks towards the door, and his small smile disappears from his face, "perhaps we were too blind to notice the young man before us."

Banners, flags and all manner of decorations were adorning Hogwarts the morning of the graduation ceremony. Families from all over the county had congregated to join in with the celebrations, and the grounds were practically teeming with people.

Draco had owled to request you meet him before the ceremony began, to tell you about his meeting with Lucius. It was safe to say you were surprised to hear a more positive story, since he'd ran away and left his parents and the Greengrass's in the lurch. But Draco had reassured you that his father is a serious man - he wouldn't have said those things if he didn't mean them, and especially if his mother disagreed. "I haven't seen her but," he began, looking dashing in his robes of emerald green, "something tells me father spoke for the both of them."

Outside in the courtyard, students were to be seated in their houses, with families and friends seated behind. Important individuals within the wizarding community as well as representatives from the Ministry were also present. The Daily Prophet had photographers and journalists out, capturing the eventual graduation of the returning seventh years. As the moment approached, students began walking in their respective houses to their seats, you amongst the Ravenclaws clad in striking blue robes. From the corner of your eye, you spot the emerald green of the Slytherins walking in the same direction across the entrance hall, one particular student catching your eye as she elegantly drifted across the space, brown hair cascading down her back and heels clicking along the tiled floor.

As if carried by your feet before you could think, you made a beeline across the space.

"Astoria," you call out, and the girl stops at the sound of her name, head snapping in the direction of your voice, "can I speak to you a moment?"

"Y/N," she blinks, "can I... help you?"

For a moment you weren't sure what to say. Do you thank her for letting Draco follow his heart? Do you apologise that her marriage didn't go to plan, and that she has faced just as much heartache as you in all of this? Or do you simply wish her well? Many things flitted through your mind in that moment, but one thing was abundantly clear. Despite everything that had transpired, there didn't seem to be even a glint of disdain in her eyes.

"Well, I just-"

"If it's about Draco, you should know he made his own decision," she cuts you off, smiling at the small crowd of Slytherins entering the courtyard, Draco surely among them, "I simply realised I was an accomplice in his misery. The rest was his own heart telling him what to do."

"From my understanding, you were pivotal in Draco finding his strength," you said kindly, Astoria's pretty eyes looking at you as if she was sure Draco wouldn't ever mention her name again, "and for that, I'm forever thankful, Astoria. As well as deeply sorry for the mess I caused."

She shakes her head with a smile on her face. A light chuckle escaped her lips.

"Love isn't a crime, Y/N," she says softly, "for too long, I've lived in my parent’s shadow, following their ideals and wishes. If anything, Draco, and you, have taught me a lot about thinking with your own mind. It's true I would've married happily," she pauses briefly, "but it's a long time to be miserable, don't you think? Draco deserves better than that."

You go to speak, but nothing comes out. Words fail you in this moment, and Astoria takes your hand as the band outside begin to play the entrance music for the graduating students.

"There is no need for more words," she said, and you hold her hand back tightly, "all I ask is that you take care of him. Merlin knows he needs it. Now, what do you say we walk out together, hm? As a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin, for the last time."

Arm in arm, you emerge from the large doors and into the courtyard, following the groups of other students. The two of you split ways once arriving at your designated spots, and part with a smile. You find your place beside Luna, and settle in, a buzz of excitement and fresh, new beginnings in the air. Headmistress McGonagall rises to the lectern, as students, staff and guests all stand. A round of applause is made, and the ever elegant professor quieted the crowd with a gentle wave of a hand, urging everyone back into their seats.

"Thank you," she begins, her voice magically amplified, "It is my greatest pleasure, as Headmistress of our school, to see such wonderfully gifted pupils embark on their next chapter, not only as high achieving students, but as young men and women." She scans the crowd, and with a wipe of her handkerchief under both eyes, continues, "and most of all, it is an honour to send off those returning seventh years whose final year at Hogwarts was tainted by sorrow and loss, into greener and brighter pastures, as free witches and wizards. The world is indeed your oyster, and I expect great things from each and every one of you."

Professor Flitwick hurries along the stage, wand levitating a large pile of scrolls, each tied with a coloured ribbon of the students respective house, closely followed by Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Now," McGonagall announces, "as we call your name, house by house, please rise to collect your graduation certificate, prestigiously presented by our good Minister, Mr Shacklebolt."

Students from each house proudly took the stage and their graduation certificates, shaking hands with the Minister and posing for a photograph. Gryffindor first, then Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and eventually, Ravenclaw. As your name is called, with slight jelly legs and a nervous but exciting feeling in your stomach, you walk the aisle to the stage, passing the other houses. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt hands a scroll to you, blue ribbon tied in the centre in a neat and perfect bow, and then shakes your hand in a firm but gentle way.

"Congratulations," he says quietly to you, as the camera takes a photograph your parents are no doubt planning on placing above the fireplace. You take the chance to look out over your fellow students and families, noticing your mother waving at you from the back rows. A small wave back and she's taking her own photos, and even from the stage you could see your father urging her to sit down so the others behind could see. Then, your eyes fall on the rows of emerald green, to a kind face, with white hair shining in the sun, and a smile that makes your knees a little weak.

He winks, and you can't help but feel flustered in front of the hundreds of faces looking up at you blushing like a schoolgirl. 

"Thank you," you mutter to the Minister, and share a smile with the Headmistress as you head back to your seat. After a few words from Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt about courage, strength and the 'formidable force that is the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry', one final round of applause, and the chance to mingle begins. Your parents, mother crying and father trying to hide his emotion, are the first to find you. They chat with your professors, even the Minister, and mingle with other parents they know. Students you've known say their goodbyes and well wishes, as a little tap on your shoulder gains your attention.

"So, we've done it." Hermione says, clearly overtaken with emotion, "We've actually done it."

The two of you embrace, squealing with happiness. You hug one another tightly, evoking some tears in the process. It's been a long journey, but you've made it. From the war to your own trials and tribulations, you were both still standing. Together.

"I couldn't have made it through this year without you, 'Mione," you mumble through your tears, and you hear her giggle through hers, "I love you so much. Thank you. For everything."

She pulls back, resting her hands on your shoulders as she looks at you with adoration.

"You must stay in touch," she chokes up mid sentence, "promise me? Don't be stranger, for Merlin's sake. Tell Malfoy the same." You nod vigorously, "I love you too," she says sincerely, and then her eyes are fixed on someone behind you, "speak of the devil."

You turn on your heel to see Draco, handsome as ever in the green that so belongs on him, sheepishly waiting for you to notice his presence. Turning back to Hermione, she insists you go to him, and with one last hug, you cross the space between you. His smile grows wider the closer you get, and as soon as you're in touching distance, he takes your hand and presses a delicate kiss to your knuckles.

"You know," he begins, voice like silk, "blue really is your colour, my love."

A delightful chuckle escapes your lips, and within the next second, his other hand is cupping your jaw and bringing you in for a passionate kiss. He doesn't seem to care that hundreds of students and families surround you, including his own. All he cares about is this moment, and this declaration of his love for you. As you part, he remains close, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"I love you, darling," he whispers to you, only for you to hear, and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

"I love you, Draco." Your voice is barely audible, but he catches it, and a toothy grin spreads across his face.

"Well then?" he then extends his arm to you, "it's time for the boats, my lady.”

With your arm laced in his, family and friends watching from the courtyard archways, the seventh years descend the stairs to the boat house for the last time, reminiscing about the first time they wandered up those same stairs to the sorting ceremony. Not many words are exchanged between you; emotions are high and his touch is enough, but as you collect on the docks of the boat house, Hermione comes to stand beside you. You take her hand, and the three of you look up towards the castle that's been your second home for eight years now. 

"Shall we?" you look between them both, and you share a silent agreement, stepping onto the boat together, symbolising the start of a new beginning, and the end of an era. As the boat is pushed from the shore, your hands are still intertwined, and your arm is still tightly around Draco's arm. If you had pictured your last trip across the Black Lake like this, you would've thought some very strange twist of fate was at play; in fact, it must be. Taking one last look back at the castle that becomes smaller and smaller the further away you get, you think how you've found many things during your time as a Ravenclaw. Friendships, courage, knowledge, and even love. Isn't it funny, you think to yourself. How life plays out, how the universe works.

How true happiness can be found…

In the strangest of places.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

tags: @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach @namelesslosers @ghostyv @mikadorbs @redactedhimbo @morganadpl @scarecrowscaresthomas @valkyrie418 @animeloverfreak310 @budugu @marplest @torresbarnes @bunny24sstuff @champagneesupernova @serafilms @siriusly-parker-main @lovely-maryj @i-bitch-you-bitch @astablacksword @sun-fiower-seed @tinafuentes @venusjustleft @omgitstatertot @aangsupremacy @ilovezy @leclerc16s @aslanvez @talesofadragon @3vasaur @the-skys-musical-echo @yeolsbubbles @idk-dolans @xx-kiraa-xx @sunbruized @vinkiesz @snickersmee @fandomrulesall-blog @astheraa @idkatee @marsanhwa @vintageoldfashion @63sucker @j-n-i-c-o-l-e @anarchistsons @newbooksmell777 @tangomangroves @neoteezrenyoung @l0v3lies @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @higanbanagirl @ace152435 @arcanebabe @slythermuf @hea-vin @zucchinimalfoy @carolineesnell

[yoonia]

The Bedroom Hymns | myg ● fic teaser

⟶ Summary | Being the only daughter of the Wicked King has kept you living in a sheltered life. Never once were you given the chance to see the world beyond the walls of your father’s old castle, and yet, it had never stopped you from hearing all the dark rumours of your father’s indiscretions which had left you to continue living in the shadows.

When the day comes for your father to send you to live in his castle by the sea, he leaves you with a new rule set in place. You are left with a set of keys, one which would lead you to travel through the thousand magical doors inside his castle, but you are to never leave through the front door or to step foot through the golden door at the end of the hall. The magical doors become your escape, giving you the chance to see the world that you had never seen before. Until one day, your life changes as one of the magical doors leads you to the Fairy Prince.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns; a Bluebeard Retelling ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Strangers to Lovers au, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale Retelling au ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; nothing yet for this teaser, but I will add warnings as I continue writing this ⟶ Estimated word count | 40k words ⟶ Teaser word count | 2,1k words

⏤ Written for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab

⟶ Author’s note | As the result of my latest poll, you have chosen for me to finish this story first out of the rest of my April WIPs. Thank you so much for everyone who voted! If you are interested to join my fic taglist, please enter your information here. If you are only interested to be tagged on this fic, please only enter your url in the replies.

𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…

Stargrave castle.

The castle with 1000 doors which was built right on the top of the Earthpeak cliff, the ocean edge of the Nythelean Empire’s territory. You have learned a little about this castle on the morning you first arrived, under the guidance of Lord Gordan, the royal advisor working for your father, King Aneas.

You have only been here for less than a week, and you know for sure that you still have much to learn about this castle. The place that is to become your new home. It still feels foreign to roam through the hallways, and you constantly find yourself being amazed at how expansive this place is compared to the manor you have been residing in since your childhood.

No, this castle was said to be your real home.

Your father himself had said so. This is the place where you were born. The place where you had once lived peacefully and happily with your father and mother together, before the Queen tragically passed and you were taken away while you were still a young, helpless child. This is the place that holds the old scars and the wounds that your father must carry with him for many years until he lost all of his happiness and his warm smile.

No wonder he kept you away from this place for so long.

The darkness terrifies you when you try to step out of your bed chamber at nightfall. The long corridors feel like a maze, with numerous doors and several open galleries welcoming you whenever you get lost on your way. Oftentimes, you only feel safe when you are in your private chamber, or when you are having your high tea with Nanny Abigail in the garden, where you would find yourself wasting time until the sun sets each day. There is never a day passed when you didn’t miss your old home, the Seacrest Manor. But as days continued to progress, you soon realise that if this is where you are to spend the rest of your life, you must soon make it your mission to make this place home.

Surely, it wouldn’t be such a hard task to do, would it?

Not with Lord Gordan and Nanny Abigail by your side to guide you through it. And now that you are finally back at the home castle, you will also have more time to spend together with your father compared to how it used to be before. That would certainly help you learn more about this place, about the home territory that you were never allowed to see, and maybe help fix the fragile bond you have between you and your father.

Or so you thought.

“I have to be away for at least six weeks. There are matters needed to be dealt with and it would be too taxing of a journey if you should join me,” your father suddenly announces on the first day of your second week of being home. “Make this castle your home the best you possibly can while I am away and enjoy yourself. You might need help to go around the castle in my absence, so here—”

You barely find the words to respond to him with when he suddenly grabs your hand and places a heavy set of keys right at the center of your palm.

“Here are the keys to various rooms within the castle. As you may have noticed, we have many doors right here at the home castle that has been kept locked because I am always away and you haven’t been back home, and I am the only person who has the access to each of them. Now, you will have the ability to open them all by using these keys.”

You keep your eyes on the keys in your hand, studying them closely with pure interest as your father explains this. Varied in colours, sizes, and materials, they look nothing at all like any set of keys that you would normally see for regular houses or manors. Not even your old home. Your father falls silent for a moment before he continues to explain what the keys are for, his small smile is hidden while you are not paying attention to his face, but simply to his voice.

“These are the keys to the storerooms; where I keep my best furniture and gifts from the many Kingdoms I have visited,” he says as he picks the ones made of brass from the bunch. “Make use of them as much as you need. You can also bring some of them to fancy your bed chamber should you need any changes to be done and make your stay comfortable.”

Hearing this only excites you. For days, you have been thinking of how plain and boring your new bed chamber is, and have been wishing that you were able to take some of your old belongings to fill your room with. Your father seems to be pleased to see your reaction, and continues by pointing at the slightly smaller-looking keys which seem to be made of bronze.

“These are the keys to the treasure rooms; where you can find all the silver and gold plates that I have gathered through my journeys, the casket of jewels which are part of our family treasure, and the safe where I keep all the money which belongs to the family,” he explains, while you are left speechless at how easy he is to hand over such a huge responsibility onto you. As if sensing your doubt, your father raises your chin so he can look at you straight in the eyes and say, “You are free to use them all to fill your needs, as long as you use them wisely while I am gone.”

You swallow hard and nod. There is something in his stern voice that demands your attention, letting you know that there is an underlying threat hidden in his warning, that you have no other choice but to pledge, “I will be responsible for them, Father. I promise.”

“Good. I have faith in you, Princess,” he says, sounding relieved but still cautious, and then he looks down at the keys to point at the pair that looks slightly bigger than the rest. “Now, this is the master key to all the private chambers, including yours and mine. You can use my room or my study should you need them. And this one will take you to the main library. I know that you love your books, and you shall find everything you may ever need to learn more about this land.”

Hearing about the library, all of the disappointment you felt about your father being gone begins to shift, and you start feeling a semblance of hope. If you cannot earn the information that you needed from your own father, perhaps you would be able to find your answers among the books in the library. Maybe you can also learn more about this realm, and how your father’s empire somehow exists between the two realms—the human realm, and the magical realm within the land Far Far Away.

Still with your eyes on the keys, your attention is drawn towards a pair of keys that seem to sparkle brighter from the others, calling for your attention. You look at them both with awe, amused by how magic seems to appear even in the smallest things you can find in this realm. Just like the keys you are holding in your hand.

You study those keys closely without saying a word, marvelling at each detail. One key is made of silver, while the other from gold. Both of them are glowing brightly and are nearly humming with an enticing aura as if they are made with enchantment. It makes it hard for you to look away, as if you are completely drawn to them, unable to ignore their presence and their calling.

“What about these keys, Father?” you question your father when your curiosity gets the best of you.

King Aneas leans closer just to have a better look, even if it is quite obvious that he could already tell which keys you were referring to. With gentle fingers, he pulls the silver one from its bunch. “This silver key will take you through the doors with the silver embellishments. Those doors you may enter, but only under a few specific rules.”

For some reason, his voice sounds ominous as he explains this. You look at him curiously, wondering why this key demands certain rules to be followed, unlike the others. Looking at your father’s face helps only a little to reassure you, as his face is completely stern when he begins to explain,

“Beyond the silver doors lies a strong kind of magic. One that has been so demanding of our family’s powers, and also the type of magic that should be kept secret, no matter what. Once you go through them, you will understand why it is important for me to defend this castle and our home territory.”

As you listen to his explanation about the silver doors and the magic behind them, your curiosity grows stronger. Living in the Seacrest Manor has kept you from learning anything about magic, and now that you are suddenly thrust into the place where magic seems to thrive, you feel eager to learn and experience them yourself to understand everything better. And that curiosity strengthens once your father continues to give you the rules that you must follow,

“You are free to visit each of these silver doors only for one visit each day. You must make sure that you will never remain on the other side of the door of your choice for more than six hours and you must always, always, only return home by going through that very same door you came from. Can you remember this?”

Suppressing your eagerness so as not to make him worry, you simply nod and promise, “Yes, I will remember,” while making sure to remember every detail, every warning, so you wouldn’t make any mistake to disappoint him in the future.

Just as your hope of learning new magic arises, the golden key begins to vibrate in your hand, calling for your attention. Noticing where your eyes are drawn towards, your father’s expression turns grim.

“This golden key—” he says, gently lifting the key from the bundle as he tells you more about it, “—will allow you to open the twin doors at the end of the great gallery on the top floor of the South tower.”

Your eyes grow wide with interest, recalling the night you first arrived at the castle and how the South Tower seemed to be calling your name. You feel the curiosity building, your eagerness to venture to the hidden parts of the castle rising, only to deflate when your father says,

“This one, I must forbid you to use.”

You stifle a gasp and question him. “But why, Father?”

Your father’s expression grows even darker once he takes notice of your interest in the golden door. He places both of his hands on your shoulders before you can ask more. “Never open the golden doors. Never walk past it, and never look what is inside,” he demands with a voice that comes out as a warning, before he softens and begs you, “Princess, I need you to promise me.”

Once again, you are left speechless. Baffled by his demands, yet his voice leaves you no chance to argue that you can only give in and say, “Yes, I promise.”

The King remains silent for a brief moment, as if he is trying to read your thoughts, wondering if you are hiding any intentions of defying him. But then he sighs, and your father finally lets you go with a reassuring nod.

“Good. Make sure never to forget this. Oh, and there is one more thing that you must always remember—” he quickly adds before you can say anything. “You are free to roam about through these doors — of course, except for the golden doors — but you are not to leave this castle by stepping out through the great door at the front gate. Not when I am not around, and never without a guard.”

You find this instruction quite odd. Just as odd as his rules and warnings regarding the magic doors, but you dare not to question him, understanding how little your knowledge of magic is to begin with to help you argue against his demands. So you put all of your curiosity aside, choosing to gain his trust and confidence as you promise him,

“I’ll remember.”

⟶ Estimated posting date | TBA; (hopefully) by the end of April 2023

— © 2023 @yoonia​, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hello there! Your blog has become a daily addition to my life. I look forward to your recommendations everyday. Thank you for the work that you do.

I was wondering if you could recommend some Historical AUs. If there's pining an it's slow burn then great!

Thank you so much!

Hey! That means a lot, thank you for the kind words💜

A Ghost Story by emmbrancsxx0 (Explicit, 261k words)

On a dare, Dean spends the night in an old house supposedly haunted by the ghost of a man awaiting the return of his lost love. Once inside, the place - and one certain dark-haired man in a 19th-century photograph - seem awfully familiar. But that’s impossible, right?

A Novel Affair by EllenOfOz, MalMuses (Explicit, 77k words)

Castiel Novak is the new proprietor of a tea room in Cheltenham—a business he inherited from his Great-Uncle Balthazar. His uncle expressly wished for the tea room to continue to offer a modest reading room to its customers, complete with a shelf of popular novels that people often mark with their favourite passages, or tuck notes between the pages for others to find. But there are some in the town who do not approve of the corrupting influence of novels. Dean Winchester, newly arrived in the country for the summer, is not about to let the handsome gentleman with the pretty blue eyes lose his business—especially not now that he's corresponding with a charming, well-read stranger through the pages of one of the novels on his shelves.

All Things In Succession by everandanon (Explicit, 331k words)

When thirteen-year-old Castiel unexpectedly presents as an omega, everything changes. Worst of all, his older brother is sending him away — to be married. Still, though everyone insists Cas can’t be a knight anymore, maybe his new husband will feel differently. As for Dean, the last thing he’s expecting his mysterious husband-to-be is a child. Though he’s furious with his dad and Cas’s older brother, Dean goes through with the marriage, anyway. If he doesn’t, they’ll give the poor kid to someone else, and who knows what will happen to him? Nah, Dean’ll just stash the kid in the barracks to train to his heart’s content, and life will go on. Of course, Cas can’t stay a kid forever, but as the years pass, Dean seems more and more determined to pretend otherwise . . .

Angel in the Iron Mask by MalicMalic (Explicit, 58k words)

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Captive of the Viking by jhoom (Mature, 19k words)

Dean the Ruthless is consumed by his need for vengeance. He takes his enemy’s widowed nephew, Castiel, as his slave… His captive might fight him at first, but Dean knows he’ll soon tempt Castiel into his bed. Castiel’s marriage only ever bought him fear and pain, but powerful Viking Dean is nothing like his cruel wife. And the longer he stays with his captor, the more he wants to give in to the new sensations the ferocious warrior evokes in him. Will he give in to this ferocious warrior’s seduction?

Dear Father by Salamitsunami1 (Explicit, 68k words)

It’s 1973, and it’s the middle of spring, and each passing day is warmer than the one before it. The troops are returning from Vietnam in droves, and the American shores they stumble upon are just a little more accepting of homosexuality than the ones they left all those years ago. But Father Castiel Novak has never even stepped foot out of Salvation, let alone out of the Midwest, and as the only priest in this very small town, he’s determined to remain in the closet until his very last breath. Things take a turn when Salvation’s newest resident confesses to having urges for other men. Dean Winchester wastes no time in asserting himself as both intolerably arrogant and an ungodly temptation, and Castiel’s only defense is to keep his distance. Despite his best efforts, a friendship still ensues, and it’s a very slippery slope then, with things going from bad to worse when Dean offers his self-proclaimed good hands to help bring Castiel’s family home back to life.

His Imperial Guardian by Briston (Explicit, 41k words)

Mr. Dean Winchester would do anything so that his brother might become a successful barrister. After years of personal compromise threatens to bring them both to ruin, Dean is left with but one option to save his brother. His Serenity the Count Castiel Novak is the recently installed Russian Ambassador to St. James’s Court in London. The cold brutality the English display toward those who share his preferences leaves him incensed and wanting to lash out. Looking for a wrong to set right, he ventures into a dangerous part of London to find a way to dispense with some of his anger and frustration. What he finds instead, is a man close to death and in need of his protection. A man he very much suspects shares his natural proclivities. How will Castiel convince the mysterious man that he is safe under his protection?

Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits (Explicit, 401k words)

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again. WW2 ETO infantry AU.

o weary traveler by dothraki_shieldmaiden (Explicit, 107k words)

Still reeling from the death of his father, Dean Winchester has one goal: make it home to Lawrence, where his kingdom and the rest of his life are waiting for him. His task is made infinitely more difficult when he shipwrecks on a mysterious island. When his crew and then his brother disappears, Dean enters into a deal with the island's mysterious inhabitant, Castiel, to keep them safe. The catch? He can never leave. Bound by his deal, Dean has no choice but to get to know Castiel, and what he finds is surprising. Castiel is kinder than he originally thought, even though he's harboring his own secrets and guilt. Dean needs to return to Lawrence, but he finds himself reluctant to leave Castiel behind. Meanwhile, Castiel knows that the kindest thing to do for Dean is to let him go, regardless of his own feelings towards him. As their relationship deepens into friendship and then something more, Dean and Castiel face both outside dangers as well as their own doubts. Can Castiel find it within himself to let Dean leave? Can Dean find it within himself to go? Or can these two create their own destiny?

Rapscallions by the_scrubjay (Explicit, 106k words)

Castiel was expected to be the Omega heir to his father’s kingdom. Upon presentation as an Alpha, he was stripped of his title and privileges, now a pawn to be used as his father saw fit. Dean, as his father’s eldest son, was expected to present as an Alpha and eventually assume the throne. When he presented as an Omega, he became just another bargaining chip at his father’s disposal. When the Kings strike a deal for an alliance, Dean and Castiel are expected to mate to join the two nations together. On the night, the two find themselves unable to follow through and instead agree to play along to avoid the wrath of their fathers. Once settled in the joint territory they’re intended to oversee, they find that the world is much different than it is at home. And maybe back home wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Rescue Me Tonight by superhoney (Explicit, 40k words)

In order to secure his chance at a better life, he’ll have to ruin the best man he’s ever known. When Dean first hears the proposal, he fears it’s a joke: he’ll be paid to seduce one of the most well-respected bachelors in London, Lord Castiel Milton, and then break his heart. But Lord Castiel’s enemies are ruthless men, and they’ll stop at nothing to see him humbled, including hiring Dean to play the role of a lifetime. Transforming himself from a lowly prostitute to a well-bred country lord won’t be easy, but if all goes according to plan, Dean will finally be free from the life he despises. He never expected to fall in love along the way.

The Leap by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit 82k words)

1961: Sixteen years after the end of World War II, Berlin remains occupied by the Allied Forces — America, Britain, France and the Soviet Union. Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations. But Cold War Berlin is a troubled place, and as more and more residents flee Soviet-occupied territory for the West, Castiel’s superiors begin to make plans to build a wall. The wall would cut off East Berlin from the rest of the city — and leave Dean and Castiel on opposite sides.

The Omega Classifieds by ValandraWrites (Explicit, 73k words)

Life isn’t easy for a single Omega. Without an Alpha on record, Dean can’t work, can’t mate, and by law, should have been turned over to The Omega Center to be trained and auctioned off for mating. To avoid that fate, Dean resorts to the Omega Classifieds to try and find a mate. The enigmatic and charming Castiel Krushnic catches his eye and maybe his heart, but will he make his claim official before Dean’s luck runs out?

The Sun of Huntra by Inkblooded_Witch, PetraAmia (Explicit, 162k words)

Castiel, firstborn prince to the Enochian crown, has lived his life largely out of public view. His father is a staunch supporter of tradition, and to have an Omega as your firstborn is shameful. Castiel didn’t even inherit the king’s Shifter breed. The first time he’s truly useful in over thirty years is when a strong treaty must be made with their northern neighbors, and to secure it Enochia needs an Omega to mate off to Huntra’s crown prince.

You can check our historical tag if you're interested in more. Also, there's the Noir Bang coming in late fall with excellent 1940s fics.

[anime-related]

AU where L and Light go to To-Oh together before the Death Note is dropped. (Whether Light is Kira is up to you, I think it'd be cool either way)

While L and the cops are investigating Kira, Light and L have began a relationship. Now, Soichiro (lights dad, if your memory is as bad as mine) is working with L, but has also literally seen him in the house.

Sufficed to say, he's shocked when he meets L and it's his son's college friend. Even more so when Light calls L nearing the end of a meeting and hears them talk more than platonically.

Here's some little excerpts my mind made up. I've watched the show only once, so I'm sorry if/that it's ooc

"Hello. I am here to see Light."

"Light! There's a weird guy at the door!" Sayu called. She glanced at him. "No offense."

"None taken," L dismissed.

Light ran down the stairs, smiling at the sight of L in the door.

"Hey! I picked up some cake, and we can go play that game I talked about."

"I figured as much, since that's why I'm here," L said. Light rolled his eyes fondly.

They walked into the kitchen, where his father was getting water.

"Oh, you must be Soichiro Yagami. Police chief, solved over 30 cases."

"Wow, Light. I had no idea you talked about me all that much."

"He doesn't."

Upon setting their sights on L, Soichiro's mind went blank. He would've never guessed. What were the chances. While everyone else was making their judgments on L and his appearance, Soichiro was trying to combine Ryuzaki with L in his mind.

He ignored it. It'd be safer for both of them if they didn't bring their personal lives into this. He took out his ID and introduced himself as if it were the first time.

"If I were Kira you would be dead Soichiro Yagami."

Combining these two people wouldn't be so difficult. He knew Ryuzaki reminded him of someone.

As they went on, he remembered small details. Light running downstairs because he and Ryuzaki had left their phones there. Ryuzaki also had an infatuation for sugar, and even when his wife made pretty universally loved tea, he'd still add stacks of sugar cubes.

Then there was...

"And from now on, I'll have to ask that you stop calling me 'L.' It's..." L glanced at Soichiro. "Ryuzaki now. Just to be safe."

How cautious was L to give a fake name to L before Kira was even a factor? And if Soichiro didn't know him, would he have used a different alias?

"Excuse me," L said, pulling his phone oddly from his pocket. "Your timing is perfect, I'm nearly done with my meeting. I'll be over shortly."

"I assume you have more puzzles to test me with?"

"Of course I do." Whoever was on the other side laughed softly. A small smile cracked L's face.

"I look forward to it, Ryu."

"So do I."

"See you soon."

L hesitated, but hung up without saying much more like usual.

"My apologies, I try not to keep him waiting."

"Was that Watari?" Matsuda asked.

"No, my boyfriend." He said it so casually, though it shocked everyone.

"You... what?" Aizawa asked.

"He's the only person I've ever met on my level. If it didn't put him in significant danger, I would've brought him in to help." He pushed his lip with his thumb. "Though that's not the only reason," he added in a mumble. He looked as ashamed as L could look.

"How long have you, uh..." Poor Matsuda was thrown extremely off guard.

"I've been queer my whole life if that's what you're asking. Though, I'm sure you're not. I've known him for a few months. He's very attractive." He pulled his hand away from his smile. "I'd tell you his name, but I don't feel comfortable doing so."

Soichiro feared he already knew who it was. Light didn't need to be put in more danger than he already was being his son. He didn't know how to feel about this.

"You'd place surveillance camera's on your own boyfriend?" Soichiro asked. He wouldn't mind placing them on Light, but L always had a certain level of respect for him.

"Of course. I've suspected he was L since before we started a romantic relationship."

This was a shock to everyone. Not only L dating Light, but L potentially dating Kira and knowing it.

"Why?"

"Light is my intellectual equal. Unfortunately that makes it more likely that he's Kira. And the fact that he made the first move only increases that likelihood, though he doesn't know I'm L. If he did, I'd be more sure."

"How sure are you?"

"About 5%. If he knew I was L before he kissed me, it'd be 7 or 8%. Getting close with the enemy is a good way of staying in their good graces and not getting caught, but I'm not going to excuse Light as a suspect just because he makes me happy. That would be ridiculous. And being his boyfriend makes it so I can monitor him outside the house without raising suspicion."

"I might be out of line, but that sounds messed up. Spying on your boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't have to. I can monitor elsewhere while they're at home. I will still be attending my outings with Light and I can't help but monitor him in those moments, though I can assure you we're usually focused on each other; I'm not sure he'd have a moment to kill with me there."

"And Light doesn't know you're L?" Aizawa asked. "Couldn't it be helpful for him to be brought on the case? He's helped on cases before."

"If Light isn't Kira, I don't want him in any danger. I'm sure Soichiro understands my dilemma." His voice was tense as were his hands.

"I do," Soichiro admitted. "I'm find putting cameras around the house. If there's any chance, we may as well check."

"Exactly."

[aerkame]

In the finfolk au, what if y/n knew not to give Wally their real name (or at least was weary of him and didn’t trust him enough to tell) and tried to give a nickname instead? Would he know instantly they were lying? And how would he try to get them to say their real name? Also, how would he and everyone else react if y/n upon transforming into a mermaid was terrified and tried to escape?

If Wally doesn't take notice of something Home is there to help... Side note: Normal puppets are just the equivalent of humans in this AU to prevent confusion.

EDIT: ACK, just remembered the last part of the ask. I shall make a part 2 to this ask then. Hopefully the anon will be able to see it when it gets posted!

You were always warned about the finfolk. Luckily you weren't exactly a normal puppet so you doubt that any of the residents here would try to trap you on the island with them. But that small bit of paranoia kept you on your toes...well crutches. Your leg was still healing and as far as you could tell you'd be staying at 'Home' until the injury healed.

"My name is..." You thought of something quick, giving Wally a fake name. You don't know what exactly will happen if you give him your true name, but you've heard plenty of times now to never ever give it out to the fae, demons, angels, or the finfolk.

The tall puppet clicked his felt tongue before placing his hands behind his back. "What a lovely name."

---

Wally is well aware that you have been lying to him, but who is he to try and pry information out of you? He shook his head at the thought. While the finman really wanted to just force the name out of you, it would be better to get you comfortable here first, and then they could begin their goal on making you a permanent resident. Just like they did with Frank.

Speaking of which...he turned around to look at the puppet in question, humming in delight upon seeing you two get along, sipping tea and sharing stories.

Frank was the perfect tool to get you to open up really. He had no issues with the island, he understood selkies and their current dwindling numbers, he was level-headed, and most importantly, he was a normal puppet before. He could relate to you in a sense. The grey puppet even helped you lean towards staying or at least consider the possibility of staying here, having brought up the issue that poachers and criminals alike will do nothing but continue stealing selkie coats for profit.

"Quite frankly, you might be better off staying here. You and I both know there is not much out there for selkies and it's only going to get worse with the constant poaching and coat thieves, your kind are on the brink of extinction for stars sake."

Frank sighed after his mini-rant, having worked himself up. The topic of poaching and hunting exotic or near-extinct species was an upsetting topic and it was easy to tell. You didn't speak much for a while after that, continuing to listen to Frank while sipping at the hot beverage. "Hey...Frank, if I did decide to stay would the others even be alright with that?" Your voice cracked a bit. You don't know why, but it felt like eyes were pinning you to the plush seat, demanding that you stay put.

His eyebrows quirked and he gave you a questioning look. "I have no doubt that the neighbors wouldn't mind you staying." He crossed his arms looking more stern now. "If anything I'd say that you would be safer here with us."

You gave Frank a small smile. The eyes followed you.

---

"So, neighbor. I heard that you've been getting quite comfortable yes?" Wally swished his wine in small circles before taking a sip, not once taking his eyes off you.

"oh, uhm, yes! It's very nice here, there are so many smaller islands and lots of places to explore. And the colorsss..." Your words slurred slightly "so many colors evenn in the plantss. I've never seen any place like thiss! I mean even the insects and fish are unique here, Frankyy showed me his whole collection which he says isn't done ye-" Your face was beet red and the finman could tell he had you drunk enough once you couldn't stop talking yourself into a mess.

Carefully leaning over, Wally placed a hand on yours as he rubbed circles into your palm. Time to butter you up.

"You know, you could always stay with us here, forever. You'll never not be bored, you'll have friends, and you'd be safe." He inhaled, the small but hidden slits behind his cheeks opening, smelling the scent that lingered on your form remembering it was the perfume he gave you. He sighed, content.

Wally looked down at your small body. You had stopped rambling and now you were avoiding eye contact, preferring to look down into your lap or looking off to the side.

"Ah...you know, I could never get your name out of my mind. It's just so wonderful...If you did stay I could call you by it all I want." He leaned in closer, softly grabbing hold of your chin to lift it up, making sure he could see your eyes.

A thumb brushed over your mouth "I just wished there was more I could do to help you..." He breathed out your false name and watched you struggle internally...good.

"Uhm, actually, Wally, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh? I'm all ears." His plan was going along flawlessly.

Wally softly let go of your face, but remained close, fixing you in a position of feeling pinned. "I-I lied. About my name. I lied aboutt a lot of things." Some of your letters still slurred but it was obvious you were trying your hardest to think clearly.

"That's alright dear, I knew the whole time, but I figured you had a reason." Wally was grinning ear to ear.

"My real name is..." Your named slipped your mouth.

Yellow hands flew up to cup your cheeks. Wally held a mixed face that was of bliss and excitement. "Oh my darling I am so sorry I've called you by another name this entire time! Please allow me to make up for it with another dinner? Same time tomorrow."

Your head felt fuzzy as you nodded along to whatever he said. "It's- alriight." You felt numbed. Wait...

A part of you panicked for a second, having snapped into the the realm of reality, but you calmed down shortly after. You trusted him. Wally would never harm you or trap you right? He and the others have been all too kind and welcoming and if they really wanted to trap you they'd have figured out a way by now. Your thoughts were so rapid, everything is fast, too fast.

Wally was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't pay attention to your swaying body until he heard a loud 'thud' and looked down at your sleeping form.

Oh dear, maybe that beverage was too strong for you to handle.

TL;DR

Don't get drunk around Wally. He's a finman and won't get drunk as easily... and he'll probably take advantage of that to get info out of you. Or he'll just make you a blushing mess.

[thestrangepoet]

The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 4/?

Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU 

CONTENT WARNINGS: None

DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

──── •✧• ────

Martin – no, Champion, for that was who he was now – crept through the institute, his ears flat against his head. 

How long had he been technically missing for now? At least a week, if not more. And no one had notified the police. Not Jon, not Tim, not Sasha. Not his own mother, despite the fact Martin would call her almost daily to check in on her. Not his neighbours nor his…well. He didn’t have any friends outside the institute. 

He didn’t have any friends inside the institute either, it seemed. 

Champion padded past the grand oak reception desk in the front lobby. Almost immediately, his paws left the ground, which drew a purr of surprise from him, his little blue eyes growing wide.

“Oh, Champion! You came to visit me, did you?” 

Rosie, Elias’ assistant, gathered Champion into her arms, her thin, angular face all smiles and framed with bouncing red curls. Everyone’s face was all smiles when Champion arrived. Champion, who did nothing at all to actually help the institute. He couldn’t read properly like this. He couldn’t research, staying up all hours of the night to finish reports. He couldn’t go investigate leads across the country, nor pitch theories for statements. He couldn’t even make a cup of tea like this. 

Martin could do all those things. And not once had he been given a genuine smile in return, not a single sparkle in someone’s eye to say they were actually happy to see him. But as Champion? 

All he had to do was walk on by. 

The first few days, that attention had overjoyed Martin. All he’d ever wanted. But now, it stung, jabbing him in the chest and reminding him that all this fuss wasn’t for him. Not really. 

That people liked him better as a useless cat than a man who tried too hard and apologised for existing. 

“Oh dear, little guy, why the sad ears?” Rosie continued, sitting down and depositing Champion onto the immaculate desk in front of her. “Was Jonathan a meanie to you? Do you want Rosie to accidentally misplace his expenses form this month?” She scratched behind Champion’s ear with a perfectly manicured nail, but he couldn’t even muster a false purr in response. 

Everyone liked him better as a cat. Hell, maybe he was better at being a cat? 

Maybe he should just…stay a cat. Let Martin Blackwood become just another missing person, lost behind a veil of barely asked questions. 

Something stirred under his skin at that thought, like a cold fog rippling through his blood, sending all his fur on end. Champion jolted in shock; all too easily, he had forgotten what he wrestled with here. Sure, being turned into a cat sounded silly enough, but the architect of all this had been a Leitner book. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts, caring not for the jovial packaging they came in. 

Champion, now dealing with an alarming amount of adrenaline, leapt from Rosie’s desk and scampered away. He dashed through the corridors, paw pads skidding on the hardwood flooring, his tiny heart hammering away. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts…

He practically slid across the Research Department, not stopping even when one of the researchers reached for a bag of cat treats. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts! What if it could see him or hear him or—

He bounded through the austere, silent library, not sure what he was running from or if anything was even truly chasing him. But instinct tore through his limbs, too aware now of the sense of some unspeakable shadow prowling after him and delighting in his isolation. 

When the panic finally subsided, Champion had to take a moment to look around the room he’d bolted into. The room loomed around him, gloomy save for one desk light working hard to chase it all away. 

His desk light. 

Champion padded through the archival assistants’ office, wandering past Tim’s empty desk and Sasha’s neglected chair. Was Tim at the station, weaving a story as to why they hadn’t reported their colleague missing sooner? Was Sasha in Elias’ office, distracting him from the whole affair? 

He hopped up onto his old chair at his own desk. He hadn’t been here since the day he’d read that damned book in the first place. Jon’s office took the place of his regular workspace, either curled up on Jon’s lap or snoozing under the radiator. 

Being a cat, admittedly, had been a lot more comfortable than being Martin Blackwood. The temptation to remain like this had, he realised, not been entirely out of spite and anger of the others not being too fussed about Martin’s disappearance. 

It had come from Martin’s own disregard for Martin’s disappearance. Like this, he couldn’t annoy people. He didn’t have to worry about messing up conversations or making a fool of himself. He could stay away from people in that way, yet reap all the benefits of getting affection and having his company be greeted with a smile. 

But…he also couldn’t offer Jon a cup of tea and get to see that momentary lessening of his scowl, the only time his frown eased up in the office. The silly little bloom of pride Martin got at being able to coax that out of him with a nice cup of tea – a silent victory, proof he’d done something right.

He couldn’t sneak out five minutes early for lunch with Tim on a Thursday, because they both loved Thursday special at the German kebab shop three blocks away and wanted to avoid the lunch rush queues.

He couldn’t buy a lemon and poppyseed muffin on a Monday to drop off at Rosie’s desk before she got in, earning him first dibs when she baked her amazing Malteser brownies during charity bake sales at work. She pretended she didn’t know Martin brought her breakfast every Monday, when he knew she ran late for work because she had to drop her father off at the physio, but somehow, a hearty slice of brownie would be wrapped in a napkin in the fridge with his name on it all the same. 

He couldn’t go to the little tea room five minutes from his house every Saturday and Wednesday, order the same cup of Earl Grey and the same ham-and-cheese toastie, and beam as the owner called him his favourite and most reliable customer.  

Maybe…Maybe Martin Blackwood did get noticed after all. Little nods, little appreciations. Maybe…that was enough? 

The cold retreated from his fluffy legs, though it didn’t fully subside. It loosened its grip on his tiny heart, but it didn’t uncoil. 

He had to completely undo this, Champion – no, Martin decided. He had to find the answer. And the best place to start had to be the book itself. 

Martin jumped down from his chair, flattening himself on the floor to scoot under the bookcase where he had bashed the book out of sight weeks before. 

A few cobwebs…a pen he’d lost months ago…some paper clips…a scrunched up ball of paper that stole all of Martin’s attention for five minutes or more as he bapped it between his paws in delight…but no book. 

Wriggling his way back out from under the furniture, he looked left and right. Where was it? 

Martin headed out of the archival assistants’ office and made his way towards Jon’s. Had Jon returned to the office to retrieve the book? Martin hadn’t noticed him doing so, nor had the book shown up on Jon’s desk lately. Given that desk doubled as one of Martin’s many napping spots, he was sure he would have spotted it if it had. 

Unless…he’d picked it up recently. Tim had just told Jon that there was no sign of Martin at all at his flat. Tim had done something incredibly important in that conversation, Martin realised in horror. 

He’d given Jon a mystery to unravel. He’d sparked his curiosity and given him a challenge – could he find Martin before a professional? 

Oh no. 

Martin scampered into Jon’s office at full speed, miaowing in a vain attempt to yell Jon’s name. But the room was empty. 

Panting, his head whipped this way and that. Where was he? It was 4:12pm – not a time that Jon would take a smoke break he thought no one knew about, nor a time he’d go for a tea or try to heavily hint for Martin to make one. He was always at his desk. Where was—

“Mrrrrowww…”

Martin blinked, his ears twitching. That…hadn’t come from him. “Miaow?”

A horrified pause stretched out across the office. And then, that same, low rumble of a miaow, sorrowful and irritated. 

“Mrrrrrooooowwww…”

Plucking up his courage, Martin followed the sound, his fur already sticking up on end. He tip-toed around the leg of Jon’s desk, already suspecting what had happened, yet praying it hadn’t.

There, beside Jon’s chair, was The Ninth Life, open on the last few pages. And on top of the book was the saddest, skinniest, scabbiest-looking black cat that Martin had ever seen in his life. Flecks of grey mottled his fur, which was missing in great clumps all over. Most of his right ear was missing, leaving a ragged edge in its wake. His eyes were far too big for his head, a brilliant green that somehow didn’t complement his black fur. Worst of all, the cat was sitting with its hind legs in front of it, as though determined to sit like a person. 

The black cat looked at Martin. 

Martin looked at the black cat. 

It scowled at him. Somehow, despite everything, the cat managed to scowl at him. 

The cat knew who he was, Martin realised. He knew he was Martin. 

…Jon? Is that you? Martin wondered, pacing slowly over to the scabby cat. He just wanted to get close enough to sniff him, to confirm that this was Jon and—

Bap! 

A paw plonked down squarely on Martin’s head, followed by a warning hiss. 

Bap! Bap bap bap! 

Yes, Martin realised, as he lay down on his front and tried to cover the top of his head with his own paws to shield himself. 

The scruffy cat before him was definitely Jonathan Sims.

──── •✧• ────

[anti-homophobia-cheese]

Get to know me 10/10/24

Once upon a time, I was tagged by my lovelies @14carrotghoul @alasse9 @pinkamour1588 @almightaylor @amnesiaa-on-ice to play this very cute game 🥲 It took me 84 years to play it but thank you for the tags, friends <33

Rules: Answer and tag nine people you want to get to know better and catch up with

Fav Colour: This keeps changing. Right now I'm mad into sage green

Last song: Gotye's Somebody That I Used to Know came on my Instagram fyp this morning and every two minutes I've been screaming "you didn't have to stooooop so low". Yeah, I'm real annoying to be around rn 😌

Currently reading: Uh. I've been a bad reader lately :(( It's not a slump exactly but all the hospital trips have left my mind too scattered to concentrate on words. But before all this madness, I had been reading The Darkness Outside Us and The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I am itching to get back to them super soon <3

Currently watching: Agatha All Along, Only Murders in the Building. For comfort, I've been watching King Fu Panda 2 and random episodes of How I Met Your Mother.

Currently craving: Huh. It's weird that I'm currently not craving anything but would I say no to a fudgy chocolate cake? Nope.

Tea or coffee: Tea is more comforting, it smells like home. But coffee has its moments too. (When you ask a pansexual to make choices, expect answers like this)

Hobby to try: I WANT TO LEARN HOW TO MAKE GIFS SO BAD!!! People who can make gifs are so hot my god

Current AU: I've been reading down for the count (down bad for you) by 0npurpose and acdhandfidget. I've also been following the kinktober 2024 fics by @kiwiana-writes

I'm sure everyone's already done this. But leaving no pressure, v.chill tags for a few moots I'd like to get to know better:

@evanbuckwad @catdadacd @luainthewild @myteavsricochet @myheartalivewrites

@run-for-chamo-miles @taste-thewaste @elliss-stuff @stratocumulusperlucidus

@potato-jem

and an open tag for whoever wants to play!

[ugh-yoongi]

I haven't seen anybody write out Hobi being a librarian and I think that'd be soo cute! Sweet Hobi all smitten on a regular reader, and of course, they're a regular for a reason, but both are too nervous and self-conscious to act on any of their desires.

oh, this is so soft, i love this so much. thank you for sending it in! i hope you enjoy. <3

we're celebrating jess's birthday! hobi hours are: OPEN.

low key, no pressure

pairing: hoseok x reader (no pronouns used) genre: mutual pining, librarian au; fluff warnings: swearing, hobi being a cute disaster, this is kind of idiots to lovers but since the lovers development is implied i didn't tag it that way but just know it's there ok, taehyung is a shithead, mostly unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k

Hoseok is a little misguided, is the thing.

What counts is that he has good intentions, even if they don’t hold up under closer examination. But he’s sort of a disaster of a human, so he takes Taehyung’s ribbing on the chin and forges ahead with his plan.

All because he doesn’t know how to talk to you.

He knows your favorite book because you check it out at least once a month. He knows your favorite flower because there’s a bouquet of them tattooed so artfully on your arm they look painted on. He knows your name and your address and your phone number because it’s in the system, and he has enough sense not to do anything with them.

“You could just—and I’m just spitballing here—say hello.”

Hoseok frowns. “I say hello every time…?”

Taehyung is a year younger, so it feels weird to disappoint him. Settles in his stomach all funny, like he’s doing something wrong but can’t figure out what it is. “That’s not—” Taehyung sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you always like this? Like, this is your baseline?”

“I’m not following.”

“Clearly,” Taehyung mutters. He looks good today, Hoseok thinks. Looks like he’d woken up and put actual effort into his appearance. Looks like the summer has favorites. Doesn’t at all look like he’s on the verge of a mental break, which is more than Hoseok can say about himself. “Hyung, I’m going to ask this point-blank—”

“Maybe don’t? I’m fragile.”

“—Do you know how to flirt?”

Hoseok scoffs, all instinct. Of course he knows how to flirt. He’d flirted his way through undergrad and then grad school with great success. He flirts with the grumpy IT guy the city sends over, just because it’s funny to watch his cheeks turn a shade of red he’d previously thought was impossible. Hell, he flirts with stupidity every single day, so who is Kim Taehyung to ask him such a thing?

“Don’t ask silly questions, Taehyungie.”

“So you’re saying you do?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Taehyung shrugs, and Hoseok sighs in relief, glad that particular interrogation is over. “Flirt with me, then.”

And then he’s choking on his tea, expensive cashmere sweater now soiled with half a cup of honey vanilla chamomile. “You asshole,” he wheezes, barely able to get the words out before his throat constricts again, warning him of another impending coughing fit. “My sister bought me this sweater.”

“Noona has great taste,” comes Taehyung’s easy reply, paying no mind to Hoseok at all, “which is to be expected, of course. Now, please flirt with me once you’ve recovered.”

“Why?” Hoseok snaps, because the way he’s blotting at his sweater with a soggy napkin is humiliating. He doesn’t even have a change of clothes anymore; had taken his gym bag out of his car a few weeks ago when he’d gotten the flu.

Taehyung sighs again—put-upon, like he’s dealing with an obtuse child. “Because I’m trying to facilitate true love, and I can’t send you into battle unprepared.”

Hoseok just glares. He’s going to have to spend his lunch break running back to his apartment to change.

Right, the plan.

It’s all dependent on you sticking to your routine, which goes like this: every Sunday afternoon, without fail, you swing by the library and make pleasant small talk with Taehyung as you return your books. Taehyung, without fail, asks what you thought of them and recommends new ones accordingly. You always smile and say thank you, and your voice always sounds like church bells.

(“That’s because you want to mar—” “I will fire you if you finish that thought.”)

Hoseok is always conveniently absent during these exchanges, pretending to do paperwork in his office. This is why Taehyung calls him a coward, and that’s probably true, it’s just… Hoseok has talked to you enough times to develop a big fat crush, and that’s not acceptable. He doesn’t even know you; doesn’t want to romanticize you and put you on a pedestal.

Hence the plan.

If he can’t talk to you with words, he’ll do it with books.

It’s genius, regardless of what Taehyung thinks.

But Taehyung is integral to the plan, so Hoseok has to get him on board. “Look, I already put it together, I just need you to… suggest it.”

“You mean be manipulative.”

“It’s not manipulative,” Hoseok argues, sending a glare Taehyung’s way. “It’s no different from you suggesting books any other time.”

“I just don’t understand why you can’t just say hi, I really dig your taste in literature, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? It’s not that hard, hyung, you really don’t need to do all of…” He points at the stack of books Hoseok has assembled. “...This.”

There’s about three seconds before Hoseok explodes, and Taehyung must realize it because he’s throwing his hands up and going fine, fine and helping sort the books.

As annoying as Taehyung can be, he really is a great salesman.

Powerful, too, because Hoseok wouldn’t have lasted a second in your presence. Probably would’ve melted under the warmth of your smile; would’ve withered as soon as you strolled in with your tattoo visible; would’ve fallen to his knees the second you said hello.

Taehyung has done none of those things, which Hoseok knows because he’s standing on a chair, watching from the window in his office. He knows Taehyung can see his face peeking through the blinds, keeps rolling his eyes whenever the two of them make eye contact, but he schools his expression and keeps Hoseok’s secret safe.

“I actually have some special recommendations for you today,” he hears Taehyung say. Watches as he hands over the bundle of paperbacks. “Our lovely head librarian thought you might be interested in these. He picked them out just for you.”

You look taken aback. It sends Hoseok into a panic, wondering if he’d gone too far. Maybe he should’ve listened to Taehyung, after all, but surely a stack of books is less forward and weird than a coffee date? You can just not read the books and return them if they aren’t your thing, but turning someone down face-to-face is much harder.

No, no—Hoseok did the right thing. He has to have faith in the plan.

“Wow,” you reply, a beautiful smile lighting up your face. “These look great. Please tell him I said thank you.”

Taehyung’s smile is not beautiful. It’s greasy and smarmy. “Oh, I most certainly will.”

Taehyungie (11:32am): Can’t make it into work today, hyung Taehyungie (11:32am): I’m super sick Taehyungie (11:32am): Sorry 😉

Hoseok can’t believe what he’s seeing.

Kim Taehyung is a traitor. A treasonist. A miscreant. Another word for a disloyal person who is not only willing to abandon his hyung in his time of need, but is gleeful about it.

What could Hoseok possibly have done in a past life to deserve this?

Doesn’t matter, he decides. This is totally fine. Hoseok’s going to prove Taehyung wrong. He’s going to have a proper conversation with you. He’s going to ask what you thought about the books he’d chosen. He’s going to recommend new ones. He’s going to flirt. He might even ask if you want to grab coffee sometime, and he’s going to relay all of this to Taehyung right before he tells him to go to hell.

Just one small hiccup: he has to survive you first.

You’re surprised to see him, and the way your eyes widen makes Hoseok’s heart skip a beat. God, he’s worse off than he thought. Gets worse when you reach the circulation desk and he can smell your perfume: something soft and earthy that reminds him of a spring breeze. Has his knees shaking, on the verge of buckling beneath him, and it’s only through pure spite that he stays upright.

“Good afternoon,” he says with a small wave.

You smile. “Hi, Hoseok. Haven’t seen you up here in a while.”

“Ah, well, you know. Paperwork.”

You nod, but the jerky motions of your head tell Hoseok you probably don’t do much paperwork at your job. “Yeah, of course. Is Taehyung out today?”

“Yep, took a sick day.” He shouldn’t, but he thinks Taehyung deserves it: “Sent me a text this morning and said it was coming out both ends. Seems bad.” You’re grimacing. Oh god, you’re grimacing. “Anyway! Here for your weekly return?”

Like a switch has been flipped, you scramble into action, reaching into your tote bag to retrieve the books. “I—yeah, sorry, let me just…”

“Sure, take your time. Did you like them?”

“Yes,” you answer, gaze slowly rising to meet his own. There are words clearly biting at the back of your teeth and, like Hoseok has done a million times before, you swallow them. Slowly, you hand over all the books but one. “I especially liked this one.”

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Hoseok had agonized over that one for days, wondering if it was too much, if it’d send the wrong message. Some of the other books were more obvious, but this one was… well. It’s not what was said that’s important, it’s what wasn’t, and Hoseok had concocted that stupid plan because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

But you’re handing it over with a hesitation that has Hoseok smiling despite himself. “Would you like to hang onto it a little longer?”

“Would that be okay?”

“Of course.” And then, because he’s brave and he doesn’t want to end up like one of Ishiguro’s characters, he takes advantage of a fleeting moment of bravery. “Maybe we could—aish. Would you like to discuss it over coffee sometime? The book, I mean. With me.”

You nod, and your smile is shy. “I would love to.”

[bloodycyrano]

Gifts I think the DAO companions would appreciate, outside of giftable in game items! (Pt1, I think this will be a long post if not sectioned)

Sten-

Incense and expensive tea, possibly imported. He talks about how he hates the smell of Ferelden, and misses home; Tea and incense being the most notable scents that stick out to him.

Cookies, or a good recipe for cookies. Everyone in the Fandom has had the dialog where Sten reveals that he enjoys cookies, and that in his homeland, there is no such thing. I think he would greatly enjoy a recipe to be able to bring such a thing back with him- Even if he may not be able to make them himself at home. My memory is fuzzy on qunari custom, but I don't think he'd be particularly allowed to bake.

A wardog of his own- I don't think he'd be permitted to keep it, upon return to the qun. But he has immense respect for Barkspawn, and I think if he were here in 2024, he'd be a great dog dad. I think he'd probably give it to his closest companion upon his return, but he would keep a detailed sketch of it with him always. He'd probably give it a specific title in his native tongue.

This is sort of a separate headcannon, but I think in a modern AU, he'd really like pumpkin spice lattes.- It's always the ones you would never expect.

Shayle-

Obviously, we know they like crystals. They like being pretty, and *sparkling*. So it's not too farfetched to assume they would appreciate gold ore or other shining metals fitted to some of their stone bits- Sort of like.. Magically grafted on with heat? Morrigan could weld them, or I'm sure Sandal could potentially do it.

I think, while they couldn't really read themselves, I think if you brought them books and such, they would enjoy hearing you read it to them. Especially if you manage to find some old records of their own lineage after the orzammar quest line.

I think they would also enjoy being given I big, stone bowl to keep shiny trinkets in- Like a crow, almost. Crystals, cute pebbles, coins, keys, etc. Pretty things for them to look at.

Leliana-

She would love it if you wrote her a poem, regardless of what it was about. I think she'd just be so happy you thought of her and wrote something lovely- I honestly think she'd love it even more if it wasn't the best quality. After all, that would mean you were inspired by her to write something of which you had no prior experience and still tried your best. She'd think it was cute.

I think she'd like it if you gave her one of your own personal favorite books or fables, with little notes on your commentary and theories. She'd love that, honestly.

A ceramic nug. No explanation needed, she loves Nugs. I've got animals I love, too. And if someone gave me a ceramic or plush critter of my choice, I'd be over the moon.

A little on the weird side, I think she'd like a type of porcelain harlequin doll. I can't think of the specific type, but they don't make them the same way anymore.. they're usually from overseas in Germany or Russia or France, you know? The ones that are really glossy and have beautiful line work in the paint? I feel like you found one in the denerim marketplace, imported from Orlais, and it would remind her of another experience she had there or even just of her time as a bard. After all, they weren't *all* unpleasant memories.

Alistair-

A golem doll. Like a little poppet. I don't think it's rare dialogue, but the other day is the first time I noticed it since I first played the game rented from a family video over a decade ago, so.. Yeah. Point is, Alistair mentions in front of "Wonders of Thedas", that Arl Eamon (I think) once bought him a little golem doll as a child, and how he adored it and wondered if there would be one like it at the wonders of thedas.

A griffon figurine. He's a Grey Warden, I think he'd like it. The wardens have always been his real home, and it's truly where he belongs. I think a memento of that is something he'd hold dear.

A book of poems about honoring fallen soldiers. I feel like it may bring him to tears, and perhaps make him confront some extra grief after ostagar, but perhaps it could also bring a sort of comfort. Maybe he isn't the most religious, maybe he has a bit of trauma from the chantry.. But I think he still prays, if only for the ones he's lost.

Again, I think he'd like a war dog. I'll never let him take Barkspawn, but he'd love a pupper of his own. If you gave it to him as a puppy to raise and train all his own, he'd probably be overjoyed.- Off topic, but I headcannon that all companions to the wardens have an extended lifespan, and live and die with their humanoid counterparts if they don't die in battle, kind of like the animal companions do with the avatars in ATLA. Far fetched, and backed by absolutely no real lore as far as I know, but I like to think it's true.

[theqtinkblot]

Helluva Wonderland AU: Overlords Part 2

Now, this part will explain the Housewardens' reaction to being in Hell, a small description of what they look like upon their arrival, what they did to become Overlords, some connections they have with other Overlords or sinners, and how they met Crowley and became part of the Night Raven Cult.

Like last time, some warnings (18+): cannibalism, unhealthy relationships, depression, angst, sexual content, Valentino, violence, genocide, death, etc.. You know the rules, let’s go.

Riddle Rosehearts:

After waking up, all his senses were going haywire while feeling sore in his neck, he slowly noticed the red sky above him. He would have thought he was dreaming, had it not been for a very chaotic little midget, Nifty, getting up in his face, which freaked him out. Once he got away and got a good look at himself, Riddle was horrified, seeing himself as a short imp-like demon with a severed neck.

Throughout his time in Hell, Riddle has begun to lead a bunch of sinners and/or Hellborn demons who just want some order in their afterlife, giving them the feeling of normalcy in Hell admits to all the chaos. Riddle, being the law abiding man that he is, decides to create a bunch of laws that all his sinners have to follow, the punishment if they are not met is off with their heads. This reputation of his ruthlessness and bloodshed for following his rules has given him the title amongst the other Overlords, Riddle the Crimson Tyrant.

After all these years, Riddle has had connections with Overlords like Alastor and Rosie, who enjoys his donation of heads to Cannibal Town, and having tea with them. Sometimes, he would also enjoy his time playing croquet, as per one of his rules everyone must follow, with Trey. One day, he is approached by Dire Crowley, the Headmaster Overlord for the Night Raven Cult, who offers him to use his rules to help give the cult some supportive structure. Riddle thought of it and agreed to bring order to Hell.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona groans at all the loud noises in the air, as he was trying to sleep off the dream he thought he had, even if the smell around him was becoming overwhelming. But it's only when some idiot stepped on his, now real and permanent, lion tail, he roared in pain and finally woke up. After dealing with the sinner, he finally discovers where he is and learns that he was now a humanoid lion demon with a bunch of scars… What a pain.

In the time he would come into power, Leona found a group of animal based demons, who are being led by an arrogant Overlord. The demon began to push his buttons too much, and Leona, who finally has had enough of his status of not being king, decides to challenge them and succeeds in usurping their position as their leader. Once he took all the Overlord’s power and the souls under their control, he became known to sinners and Overlords in Hell as Leona, King of the Hellbeasts.

Most of his time, Leona would rule his new pride of sinners, but other times, he won’t waste his energy on those he deems inferior to him, only when anything benefits him. Because of this, Leona doesn’t talk to any Overlords since they don’t benefit him, but he does respect both Carmilla and Velvet’s hard work. So when Crowley entered his territory and offered to use his clever and methodical skills for Night Raven Cult, he could care less about it, with lack of any motivation, and would rather spend his time sleeping or going to a local bar and having a drink with the Radio Demon’s pet cat.

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul felt like he was drowning and yet was still able to breathe as he awoke from his pain. But the minute his senses came back, he realized the familiar taste of the ink that killed him. After coughing up the last of the ink, seeing the demons walking past him, and finding a mirror, Azul was shocked to see himself become an ink spewing demonic cecaelia with pale gray skin.

Feeling somewhat weak in Hell, Azul immediately began to build his lounge and his mafia business back up the only way he knew best, making deals. But then, Azul soon begins to see that a soul contract was capable of doing a lot more than what Overlords originally thought, and so, decided to use this loophole to his advantage. Gaining more souls and profits than he could ever have back on Earth, earning him the title Azul, Merchant from the Depths of Hell.

With his new Mostró Lounge and his new Overlord powers, Azul is heavily guarded of his position and contracts, he doesn’t want to let them go to any Overlords, especially the Vees. However, he does have a somewhat friendly relationship with Zeezi, who owns her own nightclub, and Idia, who enjoys playing board games with him. One day, while working in his office, his new client, Dire Crowley, offered him a chance to expand his lounge at the Night Raven Cult. Now how can he refuse this opportunity?

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim’s lungs were burning, but thankfully the lack of air was starting to subside as he regained consciousness. Once he awoke, he didn’t recognize the snake demon in front of him, exclaiming that they looked scary. But when he explains that he is Jamil, Kalim was confused, asking him why he looked like this, before noticing that his appearance resembled a white otter with a water-like lava lamp chest.

The first week of Hell was difficult for the both of them as they tried to survive the constant chaos. However, that all changed when Kalim got in contact with a group of Hellborn demons who wanted to start a merchant business that transported goods from the other rings to and from Pride. Jamil was skeptical about their intentions, but Kalim being the good boy he is, agrees to help them out. And as the business grew and their profits began to skyrocket, many sinners willingly offered their services to Kalim, now named Kalim, the Kind-Hearted Tradesman.

Being the most genuinely friendly and cheerful Overlord of Hell, some of them would consider Kalim to be a naive fool. But strangely, by the time they tried to take advantage of his ditsy and oblivious nature, they end up encountering a more ruthless and sharper tone turning them away. Although Kalim doesn’t remember much about these events, he is still willing to help others, even Dire Crowley, who wants him to help out his Cult. This will be fun, right Jamil?

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil’s head was spinning as he was awoken by the sound of radio static ringing in his ears. He glanced up to see a dapperly dressed deer man standing above him, exclaiming his arrival to Hell. This confused him before finding a mirror and was appalled to see himself become a porcelain doll with an X over his eye.

Throughout his time in Hell, he continued with his acting career and slowly grew his power and the industry with Vox. But the moment Vox introduced Valentino and Velvet and their proposal for the industry, Vil began to despise the new direction they wanted. As such, Vil began to double his efforts to stay at the top, while the other Vees focused more on popular trends than the pure quality art, earning him the title Vil, the Cold-hearted Moviestar.

Vil is well-known by Overlords as the eldest and more experienced member of the Vees, gaining more respect and trust from them than his other colleagues. The one thing that hinders his mood is his overall envy and hatred for Angel Dust, considering that people want to indulge their more lustful desires rather than seeing Vil’s beautiful movies. But with Crowley asking him to use his influence to make people join the Night Raven Cult, he hopes that this will help him become the Fairest demon in all of Hell.

Idia Shroud:

An overhead light shone brightly at his face while feeling like he was on fire. Opening his eyes, he sees a white haired woman, who introduces herself as Carmilla Carmine and explains that she and her daughters found him in their factory. One of her daughters gave him a mirror and Idia was spooked, seeing his face was now a floating skull with flaming blue hair, before geeking out that he looked just like Ghost Rider.

His first few months in Hell were spent working for Carmilla, making Angelic weapons and selling them in the black market. But Idia’s grief for his brother never went away, so while in his spare time, he began to recreate Ortho as a robot made from Angelic Steel. When Carmilla discovered the robotic Ortho and his reasons for building him, she was moved by Idia’s love for his brother and offered him to become her partner and give him Overlord powers, earning him the name Idia, Inventor of the Underworld.

Being an Overlord and chief director of the technological branch of Angelic weapon making is somewhat like a curse to him. But thankfully, Idia had the support of his brother Ortho and Carmilla to help him through it. Some connections he has outside of his job is Azul, who enjoys playing board games with him, and a bit of a rivalry with Vox, providing more advanced technology then the Tv wannabe. When Crowley asked Idia to provide protection for the Night Raven Cult, he hoped to not be physically present to any future meetings.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus already expected his arrival to Hell, what he was not expecting was to meet Lucifer himself. He was also joined by one of his generals, Lilia, who Malleus faintly remembered when he was a baby. After showing his new look, which didn’t change much aside from the dragon horns, tail, and scales freckling his now pale green skin, Lucifer begins to tell him about his previous cult.

During the war between Heaven and Hell, the Angels wanted to create a new legion of human demon hybrids that they could control. However, the newly born Cambions, Malleus’ cult, began to disobey their creators and used their powers for their own evil goals. So when he was born, they made him learn every single dark spell and demonic rituals to become the most powerful demon in the world. Malleus was so devastated from the truth, he begun a mass genocide in a small part in the city, then afterwards, sinners would begin to fear him and refer to him as Malleus, Master of all Evil.

After the massacre, Malleus would just isolate himself away in the castle Lilia had gifted him; Walking around to view the gargoyles that adorned its walls, spending his time reading in the castle garden, visiting abandoned buildings that were left standing during his rampage. His only relationships he has are Lilia and Zestial, who is one of the oldest living Overlords he can talk to. But maybe he might have a chance to make an actual friend if he agrees to join Crowley’s cult, who knows?

[ohanny]

KentaKim royalty AU!

(screw “five fun facts” i have never been good with rules, @le-trash-prince hope you don't mind)

once upon a time, in a land far, far away tony is king and also a giant, sexist dick. he rules his kingdom with an iron fist, over-taxes the poor, believes alphas are the shit and omegas are only good for breeding and has made being the royal gardener into the most perilous position in the land (he beheaded four gardeners last year alone for over watering his bonsais and one for looking at them with “malice in his eyes”). but even a grand monarch like tony must have allies - and since everyone thinks he's a raging asshole, he actually desperately needs them which is why he resorts to the oldest royal scheme of them all: MARRIAGE.

enter kim. kim is the royal omega from an extremely wealthy kingdom just across some ocean stretch and sails into town, set to marry tony’s eldest son babe. (well, currently eldest. tony does not have a great track record when it comes to keeping custody.) babe is not very enthusiastic about this situation since he is carrying a secret affair with the castle archivist, charlie. (and by secret i mean pretty much everyone except tony knows but since they like babe, they just pretend babe actually is that passionate of a reader behind closed doors.)

but babe also has a conscience and really feels bad for kim who seems like such a nice young man so when they stroll in the gardens, arm in arm, far enough from their chaperones for an illusion of privacy but in their sight so nothing uncouth could happen, babe apologetically whispers that he finds kim bewitching indeed but alas his heart belongs to another. to which kim says “oh thank fuck, i would rather jump off a cliff than let you knot me”

babe: well that’s a bit harsh.

kim: also your dad’s shit.

babe: i mean -

kim: and i am here to kill him

babe: um -

kim: by the way, pete says hi!

and oh pete, tony’s original eldest son who years ago sadly perished (was banished) because he fell off a horse (because he dared to do something as leftist as write poetry to the stable boy way). it was actually kim’s family who sheltered pete and recognized him as a way better option for tony’s throne and kim is in cahoots with him, going undercover. in return of a proper alliance and the liberation of tony’s people, kim’s family will get rid of tony - plan a being an assassination, plan b an outright invasion.

plan a is proving to be quite tricky due to tony being a paranoid motherfucker, but kim is patient. of course something has to throw a spanner into his plans and that something is someone: namely kenta, tony’s secret bastard son most loyal knight. it starts when kenta is sent to summon kim to afternoon tea and sneaks up to him so quietly that he startles kim and suddenly finds himself slammed against a statue with a knife against his neck - oh how the turns have tabled!

kim: oh shit.

kenta: …

kim: i mean oh no, you scared me kind sir!

the knife disappears in the blink of an eye and kim let’s out this ditzy little giggle and offers his arm all “isn’t it time for tea! how lovely!” steadfastly ignoring kenta’s disbelieving are-you-fucking-kidding-me eyes. and well, kenta does escort kim to have his lovely afternoon tea with the other palace omegas. and then keeps escorting kim everywhere. no matter where kim tries to sneak off to, kenta somehow always finds him and it takes everything he has in him to not snap and scream because it is infuriating.

and then the ball happens. because of course there has to be a ball to celebrate the fortuitous engagement full of fancy dresses and foods and wine and palace plots! kim wants to take the opportunity of all the chaos and security being centered around the throne room where tony holds court to sneak but this time it is not kenta who catches him first. this time it is just your regular assassin hired by your regular jealous local omega noble who had their eye on babe and are now pissed they missed out on the royal wedding special. kim is honestly a bit shocked because “seriously?!?” but then kenta, once again, appears out of nowhere and steps in front of kim to shield him as the assassin attacks.

kenta kills the assassin but gets rather seriously hurt in the process. they’re alone in an empty hallway and kim is applying pressure on kenta’s stab wound, cursing up a storm, just letting it all out because what’s the point of hiding anymore? he goes on an epic, totally not panicked, rant about his fuckass skirt and who the fuck wears this many frilly layers, it is the most impractical shit ever and how he totally could have dealt with the assassin on his own if it weren’t for these damn petticoats! “see this is what's wrong with your entire society!” kim hisses as he drags kenta towards the sick bay. “obviously your omegas cannot do anything because who fucking could wearing all this crap! i am a person, not a cupcake!”

kenta stares up at kim in awe. he should probably have more questions but… wow. at least he can blame it all on blood loss.

so anyway, kim dumps kenta outside the sick bay and then runs off before anyone can see him and his blood stained clothes. he enters his room, sends a maid to the party to tell them he suddenly felt ill and retired early, and then spends the rest of the night pacing, pretty sure he fucked up and should be fashioning a rope out of his sheets to scale the tower and disappear. but nothing happens. he hears there was an attack, of course, and sir kenta got hurt but when questioned, kenta looked tony straight in the eye and said he must have hit his head because he cannot remember anything.

kim really could have done this without catching feelings but fuck.

so the next time he and babe have their little garden stroll, kim lowers his voice and insists they will add kenta to the list of people who will be protected at all costs. when babe sceptically exclaims kenta is tony’s right hand man, kim stares him down with a “he goes on the list or you can kiss me and my armies goodbye.” that is one thing dealt with. the next is actually avoiding getting knotted by babe because tony would love to have them married by the end of the month and that cannot happen. so kim starts delaying by any means necessary - he insists his religious beliefs demand they be wed when the stars are aligned a certain way and oh, he simply must have pink gardenias in his ceremony! it has been his dream ever since he was a little pup but alas it is november so they must wait until gardenias are in full bloom!

kim in the council meeting in his cupcake dress:

tony, gritting his teeth: of course. we don't want that.

but the longer kim delays, the more tony suspects something is off. kim is cagey and his mask is wearing increasingly thin. there are rumblings of soldiers making moves and gathering in kim’s kingdom. fuck, even kenta is being shady with his head injury and insisting he keep an eye on kim and then come back with shit like “he complained the tea wasn’t sweet enough and then accompanied babe to the library to read poetry.” absolutely useless, that one. the horror.

of course this will all come to an end when tony, sick of kim’s antics, invites him into a totally non-threatening family dinner in the privacy of his quarters. babe is there, as is kenta, guarding the door. it is the tensest consuming of roasted quail the kingdom has ever experienced with buttholes all across the land clenching for seemingly no reason. for dessert tony serves kim tea with a side of hair yank and knife to a throat with a “you will marry my son in three days time or take a dive off the tallest tower, you filthy fucking -”

aaaaaand he has a knife in his back. it's unclear who looks more shocked: tony or kenta himself who kind of acted on instinct when he saw his kim threatened and about to be married off to someone else. he is about to just go full catatonic because oh, what has he done when kim grabs his face and kisses him. “wow. the plot twists just keep on coming” babe says to absolutely no one but if he has leaned one thing from charlie, it is that someone needs to narrate things for the record.

(of course it isn't as easy as simply getting rid of tony but it is a great start. they will have to weed out loyalists and find out who they can trust and then rework the whole damn constituion but hey, no tony! pete and way will ride in with an army at their backs only to meet open gates and a very smug kim (happily wearing pants) stating “i told you my ass was irresistible enough to get the job done!”)