#He doesn't want them to know their Master gave up on everything

[iimexpensiive]

While there are many factors to why Wukong gave up and stopped trying to do any good or change, there was one solid reason for why he finally broke and stopped caring about the world in general. It was when Tripitaka gave up — the monk not only giving up his immortality to be done, but having said their whole Journey had been a waste and that the Scriptures they had protected had been worthless in the end. It especially hit when Tripitaka said "What was the point of leashing you like a dog and causing you such misery and pain?" also played a factor, since Tripitaka never had admitted that he had truly 'hurt' him and was only 'teaching' him. Wukong has kept this to himself, since he didn't want to see his fellow Pilgrims' image of the monk they loved and cared for tarnished. Letting them keep the memory of their Master that was unbroken and untarnished. Taking on that burden instead of Tripitaka.

[readingfolklore]

guys, i'm having a freak out session about turning 30 in just over 4 months... never thought i'd reach my 30's tbh, i was meant to stay stuck in my 20's forever, nooo. 😿

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fae King ////// Flawed Love

All too often there are the stories of fae who despise humans, coming to love a single human who negates everything they've believed. But what about a fae who doesn't hate humans? In fact, he adores them having a whole wing of the castle dedicated to the transmogrified humans he so lovingly collects protects. Samaritans, scholars, and kind people alike lived to chat and entertain the immortal king.

But the Fae King likes to wander. To look at the ever-changing human populace with admiration. He's learned by now that his humans at home are just as entertaining as the ones he sees on the outside. That he shouldn't snatch every human who interests him a little, especially when he's been doing so well (he's on a streak of 5 decades!) There's just one human he's willing to break his hard-earned streak for.

"Ew who would bring their kids to this stinky place!?"

"My Dad, (Y/n) he's also the one who owns the cabin we're going to."

"Well, it better have some AC or I'll be having words with him!"

You, the absolute opposite of the kindhearted tree-hugging protagonist are the hardened city-kid with an eternal sneer. Many who know you will question if you'd kick a puppy that was too loud or not cute enough...and the answer is that you wouldn't because it’d dirty your seasonal Birkin boots. And somehow the human-loving Fae is obsessed.

"Your majesty this is the human you've been drooling over?"

"Yes! Aren't they lovely?"

"They're something."

Fae King doesn't care if the group you're with burst out laughing when he proclaims his love. After he unintentionally terrorized them all with the oddly acting animals and the branches grabbing at them on their journey. It takes a lot for all they've been through to laugh in the face of being responsible. 

"Did you think I was joking? Is that why you're laughing?" 

"Nah man we're laughing because it's them you like!"

"Yeah, if you're a masochist who wants to die alone!"

Despite the usually jovial nature of the Fae King and general goodwill to humanity, he does have an especially morbid sense of justice. Along with his occasional forgetfulness as King of the Fae he was able to spell those he fought with thoughts alone. But that has nothing at all to do with this particular situation as he promises you he has no idea why your friends are still laughing.

"I promise my love, I have no idea why they keep laughing!"

"Its probably because you said something stupid."

" My Venus--"

"Ew and stop with the nicknames it makes you sound like an incel."

"Whats an incel?"

Because you are who you are the Fae King will know all he has to say for you to join him is jewels and diamonds. Never before has he been so willing to lie about what he could do for you if you gave him a sliver of your attention. It doesn’t get any better when you do catch him in a lie.

“Wait! (Y/n) please don’t leave me–!”

Slap

“You idiot! Did you think I’d stick around if you weren’t putting me up in the best hotel? Unbelievable.”

“My bedroom!”

“What?”

“The King’s Master Suite is three times the size of these rooms…will that make you happy?”

“Hmmm…but only for a night.”

“Yes! Thank the stars I’ll carry your bags up for you!”

“As you should. Now lead the way.”

“Gladly!”

Turns out the benevolent, human-loving Fae King is quite fond of your harsh treatment. More than willing to tear century-old curtains because you scrunched your nose at them. Letting you wear the crown on his head because you complimented him. Everyone is aghast at how far the Fae King is willing to go just for you.

“Your majesty, can I ask why you like…that human?”

“Why? Because I do of course!”

“But don’t you prefer the other humans you have? The ones with kind hearts and compassionate morals?”

“My love has their flaws but nothing gets in the way of true love!”

[gremlingottoosilly]

slasher!könig agreeing to meet and be interviewed by reader who produces and directs true crime documentaries :3

Konig loves his girls a bit crazy. You certainly fit the description. Now, crazy and obsessive - and brave, on top of everything. You're perfect in the way your eyes are shining brightly as you ask him about his latest victim. Both of you know he is never going to let you go after this after he gave you a tour of his house and let you meet one of his most compliant pets, but neither you nor he cares. You're a woman with determination, with the benevolent shine of a bright mind evident in the way you direct that podcast you're gushing so much about, and Konig is a tiny bit scared of you now. Scared and turned on - as much as he hates to admit it, but your butt does look good in those jeans. You interview his soon-to-be-dead victim, letting them give you wonderful insights on just how masterful Konig's knife work was. The killer himself promises to let you know it on your own after you're done with the podcast, but he can't even bring himself to make it an actual threat. If anything, you look and sound like you're going to fucking love this. If anything, it mostly look like you're ready to pick up a veil and be his perfect undead bride. Konig can't bring himself to murder you. You look like you're going to do this, like you will agree to be dead just for the sake of a great video - and he doesn't want that. Values you way too much for this to occur. Konig chokes you a little bit, just to make sure you're nice and unconscious - and then presses you down to his bed. Hands in handcuffs, chains all over your body. Cold biting your skin - he took your clothes off and burned it, so no one would get your trace. He was considering breaking down the recorder as well, but his wife would need something to do while he is too busy giving her new materials. You need your own toys. Konig has contacts - red rooms, dark web, the guys who used to pay him for the videos of war brutality he indulged in. He gives you an opportunity to be a star by providing the best fucking podcasts with sprinkled screams of his victims - and some sick fucks on the internet will buy it. Especially when connected to your moans as Konug mounts you, still hot and ready after killing the most recent guy. A power couple. You don't have a reason to go home now.

[spacebarbarianweird]

OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.

^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered

A Person to Hold

Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.

"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.

You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat. 

A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?

No.

None of that.

You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.

"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."

"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"

You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind. 

"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."

He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.

He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.

Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded. 

He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.

And he has you.

Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.

You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place. 

You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.

Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.

But now he has you.

To hold, to kiss, to talk. 

To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.

How could he become so happy?

“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.

How come he has you?

You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.

“Let’s go to the tent.”

“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”

Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.

You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.

In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.

He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket. 

You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.

Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.

Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.

"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer

“Hm?”

“Thank you for finding me."

You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”

He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.

“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.” 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[nanenna]

The Best Laid Plans

Sleepy King Master Post (for my contributions anyway)

---

“I’m driving,” Jazz announced, snatching the keys from her dad as they all walked to where the GAV was parked on the city hall’s lawn.

“Young lady,” Mom started to scold.

“I only have a limited amount of time to drive with supervision before I’m off to college and driving all by myself.” Jazz gave her parents the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster.

“And I am more than happy to be that supervision,” Vlad said as he reached for the front passenger seat.

Danny quickly jumped into the back seat, as far away from Vlad as he could get. Jazz adjusted the seat and mirrors while she waited for her parents to get in. Then she looked Danny in the eye through the rear view mirror, “The engine doesn’t start until every last person is buckled in.”

“C’mon, Jazz! Even if your grandma driving somehow got us into a car accident we both know I’d be fine.”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Danny grumbled as he buckled himself in, Jazz kept her smirk to a minimum as she started the car. While she drove them to Vlad’s home she half listened to her parents explain the situation to him, the other half of her attention being spent watching the cars on the road around her swerve and nearly crash around her. She pulled up to a red light next to another car, the passenger staring up at her dumbfounded. Jazz smiled and waved.

“So you’re telling me Daniel is now the Ghost King,” Vlad asked as they pulled up to his mansion.

“That’s what it looks like,” Dad agreed boisterously. “Right now it seems like a meaningless title, but we’re worried about him getting randomly summoned by those darn occultists!”

“A bunch of fanatics with ludicrous ideas,” Mom said with a sniff. “I’d hate to think what they’d try to do to Danny if it ever happens again.”

There was a pause as they all got out of the GAV, then walked into Vlad’s mansion together.

“That doesn't explain why you're here. Shouldn't you be in school, young lady?”

“Apparently it's school policy to send siblings home in these kinds of situations.” And Jazz was so thankful for that!

“And Danielle?”

“She doesn’t go to our school, now does she?”

Vlad nodded along before turning his attention fully on Mom. “I’m guessing you have a plan?”

“Of course,” Mom replied without another thought. “Since we’re pretty sure the title is attached to the crown, we’re going to destroy it and hope it destroys the Ghost King title.”

Vlad stopped in his tracks, “You’ll what?”

Dad patted Vlad on the shoulder consolingly, “I know, I’m sure Danny would be a good king too, but he’s adamant he doesn’t want to. And the risk of a bunch of wacko cultists kidnapping him is just too big.”

“It’s not like you want me to be king anyway,” Danny added with a smirk.

“Well… Little Badger, you’re so young!” Vlad blurted out.

“And it’s weird, you’ve had the crown for over a year now, but I’ve never seen you use it.”

Vlad sighed deeply, “I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t do anything.”

Danny just nodded, “So if it doesn’t work anyway isn’t it better if no one can?”

Vlad side eyed Danny before shrugging, “You do have a point. I shall go retrieve the crown, one moment.” He turned and left the sitting room he’d led them to.

The Fentons all sat down on various pieces of furniture. Their parents shared a couch, sitting as close together as possible, while Jazz and Danny each sat in a chair of their own. Danny sighed and slouched in his seat.

“Danny, have you let Sam and Tucker know what's going on yet?” Jazz asked. It seemed the easiest way to distract him while they waited.

“Yeah, kinda. I told them I was home safe and would explain everything after school.”

Jazz nodded, that seemed the safest.

“They promised to bring me my homework,” Danny added with a groan. “It's so unfair! I got kidnapped, shouldn't I get- oh shit!” Danny practically threw himself out of his chair.

“Language,” Mom chided.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Danny whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at seemingly empty space. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

Danny waited, presumably a ghost they couldn't see was responding. Jazz had learned from the Youngblood incident, she quietly pulled out a collapsed boo-staff from her purse.

“You don't know who I am?”

…

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

…

“How about you tell me your name first?” After another pause he burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?”

“Huh?” Danny looked to Jazz, then back to the open space. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

Jazz and their parents shook their heads.

Vlad came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

Everyone paused for the response.

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” Danny added, he turned back to the empty space, “Are you even a ghost?”

A window burst, shattering into many flying shards under Batman’s combat boots. Jazz instinctively covered her face and shrieked. By the time she looked up the blond man in a trenchcoat from earlier was climbing through the shattered window while muttering to himself.

“Was that really necessary?!” Vlad yelled angrily.

The blond man pointed at Danny and said something, dazzling light flew from his finger to hit Danny, leaving him standing there braced for impact but looking fine.

Mom squawked, “What'd you do?!”

“Danno! Are you okay?” Dad rushed over to check Danny over.

“I think I'm okay?” Danny said shakily as he straightened up from his protective curl to look himself over.

There was a familiar burning crown floating over his head.

“Huh,” the blond man said, “that was supposed to reveal your true form.”

“Congrats, this is my true form,” Danny said with an eye roll.

“Danny, above your head,” Jazz said carefully. Unfortunately that got everyone's attention, far more than Wonder Woman slipping into the room.

Danny looked up, “What? Where?”

“No Danny, it's the crown,” Mom supplied, coming over to stand next to him while glaring at the heroes and their pet wizard. (That was unkind, Jazz shouldn't think such things.)

Dany reached up and felt around until he found the crown, then pulled it down to look at. “Okay, crown retrieved.”

“We may have a problem,” Vlad said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” Danny looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in Vlad's. “Why are there two?” Danny turned to the pet wizard, “What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything, that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” Mom said while glaring at the pet wizard.

Jazz extended the boo-staff and came to stand slightly in front of Danny, these guys may have powers but Jazz had helped fight bigger, badder beings.

Vlad started to step backwards, back towards the hallway.

“Oh no you don’t!” Danny let go of his crown as he ran over to grab the crown Vlad was still holding, it quickly turned into a tug of war.

“Vladdie? What are you doing?” Dad asked in confusion.

“You don’t need two crowns, and since this one was already in my possession…”

“Absolutely not, you fruitloop!”

“Danny!” Mom and Dad both chided.

The Justice Leaguers had all gathered together and were just watching, seeming unsure what to do after all their silly dramatics.

Vlad glowered down at Danny’s hands on the crown, then his eyes widened. He switched to trying to grab Danny’s hand.

Danny looked down, his own eyes widened as he curled his hand into a fist. “Is that the Ring of Rage?! What the hell, that should still be on Pariah’s finger!” Danny looked at the pet wizard in horror, “What. Did. You. Do?!”

“Danny, Vlad, stop it both of you!” Mom moved over to the two and tried to separate them, Dad joined her and was doing his best to cajole them both into backing down. For her part Jazz kept her eyes on the intruders while the rest of her family and Vlad squabbled.

“Alright, that’s enough,” the pet wizard said grumpily before raising his voice. “Shut up!”

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner - Azriel

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: four times someone notices something weird about Azriel, and that time someone figured it out.

Remember, I'm taking requests! This Azriel fic is an Azriel x reader, but she doesn't appear yet. Let me know if you want a second part with a formal introduction to the family!

Through the years, Cassian had learned a few things about Azriel. He could proudly say that, even if he wasn’t a spy master himself, he was quite observant. Picked things here and there about people, noticed small habits and routines. For example, he knew that Rhysand liked his coffee boiling hot, that Mor always brought something red from wherever she traveled, and that Feyre ordered the colors she painted with in certain way.

From all of them, he spent most time with Azriel, so it made sense that Cassian knew him. Or thought so.

Cassian knew Azriel sometimes talked to his shadows, even argued with them. The male liked his boots clean and couldn’t stand blood on his clothes. He preferred tea over coffee and liked bad jokes, even if he always scoffed at them.

Cassian thought Azriel was a picky eater. That he hated berries, because he had never seen his friend eat any.

So, when after a tough monthly shopping session for the house, he found a berries box, he opened it without a second thought. It was what he always did – eat from the box before he put it away, infatuating Rhysand, who liked everything in its place.

He only had time to open the box and touch the first berry before Azriel snatched it from his grip, tucking it away.

“Don’t touch it” he grumbled, still focused on putting the eggs away.

“Why not? Rhy’s not here. He won’t mind” he would mind, thought. Not that Cassian had cared about it. “It’s just one berry. I barely ate lunch”

“That sounds like your problem” Azriel gave him a wary look when he tried to get closer. “Don’t”

“They’re berries. Give them to me” Cassian replied, putting his palm up and waiting for his snack.

“You’ll have to wait until dinner”

Cassian frowned, because it might had been one berry, but berries were brought because he liked them and usually ended up in a bag in his room, either way. The only problem he had faced so far was Rhysand disappointed face when he found the empty box laying on the counter.

He rounded the kitchen island until he was next to Azriel. Once more, he reached for the box of berries. That time, he was met with a cold, aggressive grip on his wrist by one of his shadows.

“Dude. What’s with the berries?” he asked, staring at his unmoving wrist with morbid fascination.

“I bought them for me, they’re not for the house”

“You don’t… like berries”

Azriel seemed surprised at the statement, and finally looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, Cassian realized he had surprised him. That he had caught Azriel in a lie, or maybe in an omission of the truth. A truth he didn’t want or feel like sharing.

Maybe, any other day, Cassian would have let it go by. If it had happened with any other food, or with any other person, it wouldn’t have made him suspicious. But Azriel actually looked surprised, and Cassian had tried enough to know it was impossible to catch him in a lie.

“Well, I do now” he shrugged finally. “So keep your nasty hands out of the box”

Before Cassian could reply, the shadow holding his hand curled back into its master and Azriel winnowed away, berries in hand and a soft smile on his face.

-

Even though Mor didn’t like Azriel the way he liked her, couldn’t love him like he wanted to, she appreciated him as a friend. As a good friend, who was there for her always and through everything. And it was selfish of her, she knew, but she had grown used to the details of being loved. Appreciated, cared for. Wanted.

When she caught his gaze across the room, she was used to watching him blush and look away. When they went out to have fun, she was used to his eyes fixed on her back, not subtle at all. And worst of all, she had been kind of taking advantage of the presents he gave her every now and then.

They weren’t short of money, and Azriel had bought her many things through the years. Something she stared at, something that made him think of her. Multiple things that warmed her heart, not in the way he wanted to.

It was only logical that when she found Azriel at her door with a velvet box, looking nervous and shy, it was just that.

“Az. What a surprise” she tried to smile. Tried not to think about his dejected face once she told him she appreciated the gift but wanted to be alone. “Isn’t it too late for you to be up?”

“Yeah, I… it’s been a rough day” he shrugged.

The first indication that something was different was that he didn’t shy from her stare, nor hid the box behind his back. The second was that he didn’t leave it at her hands like a timing bomb.

Mor raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. She had been about to go to sleep, after a long day for herself, and supposed half of Velaris was already deep into it.

“Maybe you want to come in?”

She couldn’t physically let him down, drop his expectations and hurt him. More than once, she had given him false hopes in fear of losing the friendship. And when she opened a little bit farther the room of her apartment, she intended to do that.

To accept whatever he had brought her, to hug him tight and thank him, and to let him know that she was really tired and would see him tomorrow, maybe. Then, she would go to bed feeling like a horrible person.

Mor didn’t expect Azriel to open the box himself, and show her something she knew wasn’t for her.

Inside the box, was a beautiful blue sapphire necklace, encased in a silver tear that shone under the moonlight. Everything Azriel had got her, everything anyone got her, was always red. Because that was her color, that was her soul. Not blue and delicate, like the piece of jewelry he held in his hands. 

Azriel didn’t have to say anything else before she noticed the problem.

“It broke and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s… really important for me. And I need it for tonight. For right now” he rambled, like she had never seen him do. “I stayed working late and now the shop is closed”

“It’s beautiful” she whispered, having seen nothing so soft, so beautiful lately. “How did it break?”

“Doesn’t matter. Can you fix it? Like, right now?”

Azriel could have asked her to go through her own jewels and pick the most beautiful to give it to him, and she would have said yes, because she owned it to him. So she nodded and ushered him inside, with her eyes fixed on the necklace.

She didn’t mention that it was too delicate for him, that it was obviously for a woman. Mor ignored her conflicted thoughts about it as she touched the broken chain.

It only took her thirty minutes to find a chain similar to the original one, and another ten to convince Azriel to take it and don’t worry about it. Any trace of sleep erased from her body as she stared at him. At Azriel looking at the fixed necklace with a crooked smile.

“Who is it for?” she asked finally, as she opened the door for him once more. “Anyone special worth mentioning”

“No one. It’s a family relic, from my mother I think” he explained, looking between her and the open air. As if he couldn’t stand staying in the ground a second longer. “Thank you for fixing it. See you tomorrow, Mor”

Two thoughts were on her mind as she closed the door. The first one, was that she knew for a fact that blue was his color, not his mother’s color. She wore green, purple, black. Dark colors, if the portraits were correct.

The second thought, that was confirmed when she looked at her stunned face in the mirror, was that Azriel hadn’t acknowledge her outfit. A thin, black nightgown that barely covered her thighs, and that other nights had sent the shadow singer stuttering apologies right and left before leaving in a rush. 

-

Amren stared with half-closed eyes at her friends, noticing the change right away.

She usually wouldn’t entertain that type of activities, thinking ‘family game nights’ were a waste of time. But since Feyre appeared in their lives, she had to admit she liked her family better. She liked the way Rhysand softened around her, how at ease he was and how relaxed she made everyone.

True to her habits, Amren had chosen the farthest chair and the most expensive wine, and was watching the night unfold in front of her.

At the begging, she had thought it was weird that Azriel, almost as closed off as her, had walked in with a bright smile on his face. His hair had been ruffled in a windless, summer night, his shoulders wider.

It took him almost an hour to identify the new smell in the room, and find the source around his wrist. Almost unnoticeable between all of the scents combined – yet clear enough for her.

She stared at the black rubber band around his wrist, similar to the ones Cassian wore but not quite the same. Amren made it her mission to unfold the different smells and identify the new ones.

Rhysand’s was dark and fresh, like the night. His was intertwined with a sweeter one, Feyre���s, that smelt like vanilla and power. Raw, beautiful power that Amren admired.

Cassian’s was wild and abundant. He smelt like war camps and sweat, but somehow, like home too. Nesta’s scent was there too, even if the female wasn’t around. Amren could identify her just fine – and the new scent wasn’t hers.

After filtering the rest of presences, she finally focused on the band. Azriel was still unmated, that much she could tell. His was like ashes and candles. And behind all of that, she finally found it – baked bread, fresh food, vegetables.

“What are you looking at?”

Her line of sight was interrupted when Azriel pushed his sleeve farther down his arm, covering the rubber band. He knew where Amren was looking, and Amren knew that the question wasn’t rude. Still, Azriel’s voice held an edge she had only heard in Cassian or Rhysand’s voice before.

She smiled lazily at him before answering, making sure everyone was busy trying to guess what Rhysand was gesturing.

“Nothing, boy”

“You were staring quite hard for being nothing” Azriel replied. He fixed his hazel eyes on her, a hard edge on his features.

“I thought I smelt something on you” she purred, enjoying way too much the way the spymaster tensed. “Have you grown a sweet tooth lately?”

Amren usually didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She liked her life quiet, and minding other people business wasn’t her thing. Every now and then, she did like riling up Cassian or messing with Mor, but she had yet to play with the shadowsinger.

She respected him just as much, if not more, as the rest of the family. Understood the difficulty of his job, the people’s souls he carried behind. Most of their interactions were friendly and cordial, nothing more.

However, that night she felt like she had found something wort digging in.

“Do they know yet?” she asked him when Azriel didn’t answer.

“That I stopped in my way here to buy food?” even if the irritation and protectiveness fell from his face, a muscle of his jaw twitched. “Yeah. Cassian already ate half of the banana bread”

“He did, now?”

They silently stared at each other for a long minute. She dared him to deny it once more, to tell her that the smell under his sleeve was just from a quick stop to the bakery. He dared her to ask about the rubber band and give him an excuse to leave the game night.

Finally, Amren looked away and answered correctly to what Rhysand was trying to represent with gestures. Cassian got up and quickly started an argument about how to gesture correctly, while Feyre just laughed her ass off and Mor scurried off to bring more wine.

The next time Amren looked at Azriel’s wrist, the rubber band was gone.

-

The clock chimed five times in a row when the door finally opened, and Rhysand looked up from the papers on his desk. Apparently, he had to write a formal apology to the summer court in Cassian’s account, and certainly, he wasn’t any close to writing it than what he was in the afternoon.

Now, at five o`clock in the morning, his worry had gotten the best out of him. Rhysand had promised himself that, if by the time the sun came up Azriel wasn’t back, he would start destroying Illyrian camps until he found him.

“Before you say anything” Azriel rose a bloodied hand towards the high lord, and no matter how old Rhysand was, he felt his heart plummeting to the ground in worry. “Not my blood. Not even a scratch”

“Hard to believe. You’re leaving a puddle of it in my carpet” his voice was stained, his anger and worry mixing together.

“I…”

For the first time, Rhysand watched Azriel lost at words. The male looked down at his clothes, that were indeed soaked in blood and gore. He was still carrying all his swords and knives. And from where Rhysand stood behind his deck, he could see none of them had been left unused.

He had received a note from Azriel a day ago saying he was going to check on some Illyrian camps for illegal wing clipping, and that he would be gone for a few hours. Since then, Rhysand had had to deal with the worry and panic of not knowing if he was alive, since he closed his mind to Rhys.

Azriel looked back at him, and any type of sermon would have to wait until the morning. Rhysand got up and circled the desk, until he was in front of his friend. Who looked at him with sorrow and pain.

Rhysand didn’t let the surprise of seeing the shadowsinger, the spy master, so vulnerable. He only gripped his shoulder tight.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even deny it” Azriel admitted, his voice tight. “One of the girls in the village was brave enough to show me where they keep them”

“Keep what?” even if he asked, Rhysand had a feeling he knew.

“The wings. They kept all the wings pinned to a tavern’s wall, like fucking hunting prices. Rhys, they were so… so many. So many”

He knew his brother’s history with the camps. Had seen what they do to women for himself, had fought for years against it. Still, Azriel had always been the calmer one. Cassian often went into carnages when he found an illegal clipping, but Azriel was the one to ask first and kill later. To organize trips into the mountains with reinforcements and not take decisions by himself.

The Azriel covered in blood in front of him, with tears shinning on his eyes, was new.

Rhysand was at loss as words, torn between beating him for his stupidity of leaving alone and going back himself to look for survivors and kill them slower.

“What you did… Az, anything could have happened to you” he tried to reason. “You know better than to do this on your own. What happened?”

“I got a strong hold. Knew where to find them.”

“How?”

Azriel didn’t answer, and Rhysand didn’t need to pry into his mind to know he would find it closed. Sighing, he pulled Azriel close. It didn’t matter that he was staining his clothes too, that Feyre was still waiting for him in bed and that he was ready to drop dead from worry.

Rhysand hugged Azriel and let him grip his vest until it wrinkled, until he was ready to talk. He trusted him with his life, and he had a feeling whatever was what had brought Azriel to that camp wasn’t ready to be shared yet.

He didn’t count the minutes that passed by until his body relaxed between his arms, didn’t acknowledge the wetness on his neck.

“I need to do something”

“What? Unless it’s a fucking bath and – “

“No, I won’t – it’s not what you think” Azriel took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Rhysand. The high lord nodded. “I’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. But just tonight, I need you not to ask question. I won’t be sleeping in my dorms”

“You need to take a bath and rest”

“I will take a bath and rest”

Rhysand knew Azriel had an apartment, somewhere. He knew where Mor lived, where Amren had bought a house, but his brother had lived as long as he could remember in the wind house, with him. He didn’t have many personal details, but in the room at the end of the corridor he kept his weapons and clothes.

He even kept the horrible scarf Nesta knitted him last year that everyone else had thrown away.

Before he said anything else, something in his soul told him to shut up. To accept his request, the only one he had done in a long time, and leave the details for the next morning.

“I guess it’s time for me to go home too” he smiled softly. “Just – clean off that blood. And don’t forget to report in the morning. We need to talk”

“We will”

Without further explanation, Azriel disappeared between his shadows. And Rhysand was left with the sudden smell of burnt bread under his nose.

-

What Feyre missed the most about her human life, and from the spring court, were the quiet walks in nature. The smell of leaves and grass, the sounds of the animals and the absence of other voices. Velaris was a busy place, and even if the people were more than nice, she missed quiet.

Nyx had made sure that his mom never knew quiet again.

He was a happy baby, loud and cheerful, and slept less than any person Feyre had known. Always wide awake, smiling and babbling. Before he even turned one, she had grown used to taking midnight strolls down the Wind House like another routine.

That night, Nyx was playing with her tattooed fingers and munching on his pacifier, still managing to babble some words. Rhysand had gone to bed late and was sleeping in their room, unaware of the night walk. And Feyre, who held Nyx tightly against her chest, felt like falling asleep on her feet.

She was considering turning around and letting Nyx lay awake staring at the ceiling when the baby stopped moving.

“Time for a diaper change?” she guessed, used to that type of silence. “I’ve never met a stricter person when it comes to schedule. Most people use the bathroom at day, you know?”

“Bah”

“Yeah, most people sleep at night, I guess” she sighed.

Still, when she felt his diaper, she found it empty, and after a quick inspection of smell, she discovered it was clean. Through her sleepy haze, she frowned and looked at Nyx. He was pointing to the open door to the kitchen, to the table next to the entrance.

As the rest of the house, the kitchen was empty. Not even Azriel’s shadows, who usually snuck around and entertained Nyx for a while, were there.

Feyre walked inside the kitchen as Nyx became more restless, until the baby was close to the object he pointed at. Then, almost dropping from her embrace, he put his chubby hands on the surface and tried to crawl to his destiny.

“Nyx, baby, it’s late. You already had dinner” she sighed, trying to pull Nyx back.

But as soon as she separated his hands from the table, Nyx let the pacifier drop and whined pitifully. He smacked one rebel hand against Feyre’s cheek, showing her his utter disapproval of the action.

All Feyre needed was another slap to the face before she gave in and let Nyx have his way. She let the baby sitting on the counter, and holding his back, she bent down for the pacifier. When she rose again, Nyx had found his prize – something that certainly didn’t belong to their kitchen, since the most complex food she could make was soup.

Large and thin like a fork, Nyx was holding a kitchen tool made of plastic. It ended in soft peaks, similar to a brush. Similar to the baby brush Feyre used with him.

“Did you winnow that here?” she asked Nyx, not expecting an answer. “Please tell you didn’t steal anything”

Lately, Nyx had picked up his father’s power and was starting to conjure things he wanted or needed. It was cute, whenever it was a toy or a plushie. Last month, it was a very distressed Cassian that fell on Feyre, and it was not cute.

But before she could think about Nyx winnowing the tool, she recognized the already familiar smell of bread and cinnamon. Feyre smiled as Nyx brushed its end against his face, and the baby giggled.

During the next ten minutes, she brushed the tool herself against her baby’s hair, tummy and neck. It might had been a little unhygienic and certainly not very mom-like, but it was getting Nyx to drop his eyes and lean against her.

She ended up carrying the baby asleep on her arms, still gripping the new acquisition tight on his fist.

As Feyre let him rest on the crib and tucked him in, Rhysand finally woke up. He apologized softly for not getting up and urged his mate to get in bed with him. Just before he could fall back into a blissful sleep with his family safe besides him, Feyre spoke.

“Remind me tomorrow to wash that thing and give it back to Azriel’s mate. She’ll be happy to know it also works as a baby wand to sleep”

Feyre drifted off with his back to Rhysand as the male got up from the bed, processing the new information.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[thelargefrye]

ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[elizais]

dazai who doesn't explicitly tell the agency about his lover

how dazai acts when he has a crush/partner outside of the agency reader doesn't work at the agency nor is given a part if that makes sense?? this is dazai not explicitly telling anyone about her but when the agency picks up on it fluff fluff fluff, dazai in love

dazai who walks into the agency day after day, sometimes much later than others but still there nonetheless. walking in and smiling to himself more, his silly little crush on his mind. his silly little crush who he would not let be a quick hookup. he genuinely couldn't shake her out of his mind.

dazai who leaves work giddy one day, excited to go on another date. after completing all his work on his own so he could talk about the case to you. he actually read all the paperwork so he could tell you everything in it! kunikida is a fool to think he actually just started being responsible.

dazai who is seen checking his phone whenever he gets a notification and smiling as he types out something. smiling to himself when he sees your simple or complex messages. despite knowing how much you value someone who cares about work, he is willing to message you all day instead.

dazai who doesn't tell the agency immediately because he doesn't want them to think you are just a fling. he definitely had a bad reputation but he was willing to change everything for you.

dazai who doesn't notice that ranpo notices all of his new mannerisms. fridays must be a date night as he chooses to dress a bit nicer, adjusts his bolo tie before leaving and doesn't just throw his coat around like he usually does. choosing that carefully hanging his coat up would be better to prevent wrinkles.

dazai who only starts telling everyone about his special lady when he is on his phone (messaging you) and is teased by ranpo across the room.

"sooo what is her name, dazai?" the master detective asked as he sat on his desk, kicking his feet. upon hearing his name, osamu was instantly snapped out of his trance. "have i not told any of you?" he smiled. the rest of the agency looked up from their work, confused.

"i thought you gave up on the waitress ages ago?" yosano asked. "i did, months ago!" dazai responded as he walked towards the coat rack that he hung his coat up on. pulling out his wallet, he took out the polaroid of the both of you.

"that's [name]!" he shown the room, kunikida didn't seem to believe him until he took the photo out of dazai's hands. "do you not believe me?" dazai asked, fake offense in his voice.

the rest of the agency began to gather around the photo, in awe of the adorable picture. they had to admit, the moment in time of the two of your heads squished together with grins plastered on both faces.

"my belladonna.." he whispered to himself. "now that i think of it, there have been less suicide attempts.." atsushi pondered. "why would i do such a thing when i have her? at first when she declined a double suicide i was disappointed as she is the most beautiful woman ever but her personality is even prettier.."

this whole new attitude was incredibly different from everything they knew about dazai but if anyone deserved happiness, he did. and if he talks about you like this, then they had to be happy for the both of you.

dazai who after that day, brings a framed photo of the both of you and places it next to his laptop. a messy collage of small photos smashed into a frame. another polaroid with you dressed up with him on halloween. (the statue of liberty and a tourist). another photo of you dressed up at a fancy restaurant. there is even one where you both have messy hair and you have pressed countless kisses to his face with red lipstick on.

dazai who will never let you be in harm's way. he made a promise to protect people and if he could let you meet the man who made him a better person, he would in a heartbeat.

dazai who goes to yosano when you get sick for advice because he will NOT take any risks even if it is just a cold.

dazai who does not wipe off lipstick stains before work, and takes pride in having faint marks on his face from you.

dazai who can't wait to let the people who take care of him meet you, the reason he carries on.

dazai who is so happy when you get along with the rest of the agency. although when you and the agency girls are hanging out he becomes the third wheel.

dazai who talks about you all the time to kunikida, claiming he was an "expert boyfriend" and is more than happy to give kunikida relationship advice.

a/n! so this won the poll!! as always, weekends are writing time for me so please excuse my lack of presence on here from time to time!

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Whb characters seeing MC pace around to music (MaDD edition)

Beelzebub takes one look at it and nods in understanding. He does it all the time, not neccessarly to music, but he can't sit down for long periods of time. Would probably leave you alone while you do it cause he knows how it feels to be inturupted in the act.

Gamigin is curious as to what you're doing so he paces right behind you. The jiggles of his bells gave him away, but he's very genuine in his interest. He never saw a human before, so meeting you was a first for him. He wants to learn everything about humans, and if that includes soothing pacing habits, he'll be more than happy to let you do them. Though he would prefere you took a stroll with him and Jjok in the forest.

Foras only wanted to see how you were holding up in Hades (at least that's what he told himself), but the moment he saw you pacing he turned invisible and ackwardly shuffled to a corner of the room. Even though you were fully clothed and nothing sexual was going on, he still felt like he was watching something that he shouldn't. He doesn't move until you stop pacing and throw yourself on your bed. He than quickly makes a bee-line to his own bedroom to have an existantial crisis.

When Bael hears you pacing in your room, he already knows what's happening. He grew up with Beelzebub, he knows how ADHD manifests. He might scold you if you sweat too much or tire yourself too much (even though he can't help but take a sniff of your sweaty form). He appreciates that you at least pace in the castle and not randomly somewhere in hell.

Mammon takes your pacing as a request for more walks through Tartaros. Most people in hell don't know a lot about humans (since most interacted with one) and Mammon finds himself in that category. He just thinks that your acting like a dog begging to get walked, and he's going to fulfill his master's wishes, spoken or not. So don't be surprised if he kidnaps and takes you out on strolls more often.

[toxicanonymity]

virgin patrol

2.9k / dark!Joel Miller x f!reader /master

he could be doing anything with his left hand here 🥵

CW/Notes: he's a creep!, dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe P in v, violence (NOT joel vs. reader). I8 + mdni. same reader from Patrol. loosely edited.

You pull your arms into your jacket.  It’s colder than the first time you patrolled with Joel.

"Damn it's freezing," Joel says.  "Ya know, we really helped each other last time up in the shack."  He tugs on the flaps of his trapper hat. "Felt good too, didn’t it?”

Against all odds, you were hoping somehow this wouldn’t come up.  It sounds like the sick charade is fading, at least.  No point in pretending it was just to stay warm.  You don’t acknowledge him.  

“I know you’re cold, darlin’.  Why don't we go on up and take a break now?"  

You remain silent. 

"We can help each other. . . Got somethin' you're gonna like up there, too." You can only imagine what.

Your face is so numb you can barely get the words out.  "I think . .  I'm okay. I'm. . . not that cold."  

"Suit yourself," Joel says and starts heading toward the shack alone, cruelly taking one of the blankets with him. 

"You're gonna leave me here alone?"

"Sure. You've had training. You'll be alright.  Come get me in an hour.  We’ll switch off." He starts walking away, then calls back, "Or you’re welcome to join!" 

Last time, he got you naked under the pretense of huddling for warmth, gave you an orgasm with his hand, then convinced you to keep his most precious appendage warm with your mouth. You managed to get your assignments shifted away from his zone until now.  You don't want to be alone with him in the shack, but you really don't want to be alone on this windy hill with a rifle you can barely fire.  You're not sure you can fire it at all with your hands this cold. 

"Wait," you say.  "I'm coming."

He stops in his tracks and he turns enough that you can see half his face, enough to see his self-satisfied smile.  "You sure? You really wanna help each other."  His words make your stomach turn, but against all logic, you're also tingling between the legs and not from the cold.  Physically, he made you feel really good that one time, and your body seems to remember.  But it felt so. . .dirty. So dirty and strange the way he went about it.  He’s a creep. 

Your heart sinks. "I, um. . ."  

-

You're fighting with yourself, thinking it over when both of you hear something down the hill.  It's three men headed your way and they look like trouble. 

"Shhh," Joel says, and you're relieved that he doesn't keep walking up to the shack. He's more than capable of taking care of these guys himself. Your heart swells with appreciation for him.  Maybe you’ve been too hard on him in your mind. 

"You remember how to aim and shoot, right?" He whispers to you, no sign of getting his own rifle ready. Your heart drops.

"You're not gonna shoot them??"

"Well I'd love to, darlin',  but it can't just be me doin' everything or you'll never finish learnin’.  Be right up there if ya need help." The men are getting closer.  One of them notices the two of you and starts to load his gun.

"Joel, help, please!" 

He looks at you, intrigued by your plea.  "We've gotta help each other though, right?" 

"Please, I'll do anything.  Anything"

"Anything…" he takes his rifle off his back and sighs.  

The men are climbing up the ridge.  Joel points and shoots one of them in the forehead with an instant kill shot. But he doesn't continue shooting.  One of the men fires at the two of you and misses. 

"Anything?" He says. "Cause I wouldn't want these men to take you."

You can't even remember how to shoot. Even if you could, you're too numb and distracted to take a good shot. 

"Yes, anything."  It feels like a tiny price to pay in exchange for your life. 

Joel aims and takes out a second man in one shot without flinching.  Then he pauses again. 

"You're gonna take it like a good girl for me, aren't ya?"  The lack of pretext startles you.

"Y-y-yes." Your heart might beat out of your chest.

"You don't sound too happy 'bout it."  The last man fires and it's a near miss.  

"Yes, yes!"

Joel aims at the last man, and the man falls to his knees begging for his life.  Joel shoots him in the head without even blinking much less saying a word. And just like that, all three of them are dead.  It was a piece of cake for him.  He gathers their weapons.  Joel carries their guns over his shoulder and hands you their knives. 

"Let's go then," he says flatly. 

"Aren't you worried there are more of them?"

Joel's eyes narrow, scanning the horizon then he adjusts himself in his pants.   "We'll just have to keep an ear out." 

He can't get you into that shack soon enough.

-

Joel is already unbuckling his belt as he leads you into the shack. You try not to look at him. Your body is buzzing with its own heat from the near-death experience.  But even without the adrenaline, you have to admit the shack would be far more tolerable than the ridge.  There's no wind.  

"Hey," he turns around and stops you, standing there with his belt undone.  He cups your cheek. "You're alive, darlin'." Yeah, you have that going for you. He smiles with a twinkle in his eye.  

He puts down the guns and walks to the forlorn couch, his belt jingling ominously with each thud of his boot. 

“See what I got for us?”  

He holds up the corner of a bigger, thicker blanket.  Your eyes widen. It looks like such a luxury compared to the one you've been huddled under.

“Thought you’d like it.”  He’s pleased with himself, but he’s a jerk for keeping it up here.

He takes off his trapper hat and smoothes his hair. Then he starts undressing and you look away.

"Go on now, take off your pants. Then under the blanket.  We’re gonna get real warm...”

True to your word, you’ll do what he wants. You begin removing layers and watch his face change as he sees you in just your underwear, and his voice lowers, too. 

“Sure are pretty, aren't ya,” he says. 

You get on the couch and climb under the blanket. 

“Come on now, don't be shy. Take’em off.” 

You take off your bra and panties. 

“Good girl. How ‘bout a drink?” He hands you a bottle of whiskey and looms over you shirtless. You study his scars.  There are two longer slashes on his right side, one across the outside of his pec  down his ribs and one closer to his pants.  He drops his jeans to the ground and steps out of his long underwear.  He stands before you naked, already aroused.  His arms flex as he tenses them near his crotch then rubs his hands together in an exaggerated display of how cold he is.  He looks at you like a hot cup of coffee. 

-

You scoot over to the back edge of the couch, practically falling into the seam, and Joel slides under the blanket.  Then he coaxes you halfway on top of him.  His hard cock presses into your hip and sends a pang of desire between your legs.  When you settle onto his warm chest, your whole body gets a rush of heat.  You both have on socks. 

He mercifully allows a few minutes for the two of you to just lie there.  In that time, he’s getting harder and harder, and you're getting wet.  Then he adjusts your body, bringing you further on top of him for full contact and his hips begin to move, grinding his arousal into one side of your lower abdomen. 

He looks down and lifts your chin with his finger, then quietly announces, "I'm gonna put myself inside ya, darlin'.  And I think you're gonna like it."

"But, I - I don't think I can."

"Oh you can, you can." He slides his hand over your ass and down to your pussy and feels your wetness. "Mmmm.  You can, baby."

"It's too big," you protest.  You felt like it barely fit in your mouth.  

"Let's get you ready then," he replies. He bends the knee you're not on top of to make room for his hand between your bodies.  Then he slides his middle finger into you and his cock swells even harder. "Mmm." 

He adds a second finger as he grinds himself against you. His fingers already make you feel full,  but they're nothing compared to his thick cock. 

"I need ya, darlin," He pants, then adds a third finger. "Need your help real bad. . ."

The third finger is at a rough angle  and you feel his nail.  "Ouch!"

"You're okay. You're okay."  He curls his thick digits and reaches as far into you as he can with them, then mercifully removes the third.  

"Ah, fuck," he breathes as he ruts against you. The horny sound of his voice makes your clit throb, even as your pussy recovers from his third finger.  "I think you're ready for me, darlin'. . ." He removes his other two fingers and eases you onto the couch as he gets out from under you. The blanket goes with him, leaving you cold and exposed.  He sucks his fingers clean then wraps his hand around his cock.  "Nice n' wet for me, hmm?" 

He takes hold of your hips and coaxes you onto your back.  "There ya go.  Won't be cold for long." Then his free hand nudges your thighs apart, and the cold air hits your wet pussy.  He scoots between your legs. 

You've made peace with it. You're as ready as you'll ever be.  He puts his large, veiny hand on your mound with his thumb at your clit  "You're beautiful," he whispers to your pussy. 

Then he nestles the swollen head of his cock at your slick entrance.  Your breath hitches in fear but your lower belly flutters with desire.  It's bigger than three fingers but also smoother, rounder, and hopefully more comfortable. 

“Ready?” He takes a deep breath.  

You bite your thumb and nod.

He begins to push his imposing manhood into you, and it feels surreal, like your body is slowly being divided.  Just the tip of him is already plugging you right like a bottle of wine.

And then there's a sound outside. 

You gasp, and Joel covers your mouth.  Your eyes are wide and your breath is wet against his palm.  

-

Joel pulls out the smidgen of him that was inside you and whispers in your ear, “sit tight for me, baby.”  He pulls on his jeans in a hurry, zips them up, no time to button, but his engorged member helps keep them up despite his belt hanging there heavily, unbuckled.  He steps into his unlaced boots and throws a jacket over his bare chest, then pulls on his trapper hat and puts on his rifle. He looks. . . Hot. 

A low voice speaks outside. Your heart races.  "They're in there," the voice says.  "You go around." 

Joel walks to the door and holds up a finger to his mouth as though to say "shhh." You pull the blanket up around you.  

He opens the door and shoots his gun right away.  A man yelps and someone returns fire.  It sounds like there are at least three of them. You scramble to put on your clothes and grab your rifle. You pull on your pants and meanwhile you lose track of how many gunshots are fired.  A man bursts through the back door and yells "THERE'S A GIRL!" Then approaches you. You don't have your shirt on yet.  The man grabs you by the elbow and forces you up to your feet. He has a knife in his hand. 

After two more shots fired outside, Joel bursts back through the door and yells, "STEP AWAY, NOW!" 

The man raises his hands in surrender.  Joel disarms him, putting the knife in his pocket, then walks him out of the cabin.  You hear screaming, then the man begging for his life, then gurgling, then a gunshot.   

Your heart races.  A second later, you could have been dead.  

-

Joel returns to the shack and closes the door behind him.  You can’t seem to slow your heart rate back to normal.

It turns out you've actually never seen anything hotter than Joel Miller standing there in his unlaced boots, his unbuttoned pants still largely held up by the bulge beneath them but still sagging enough to reveal a peek of pubic hair. His strong, bare chest heaves. There's a little blood splatter on his jacket.  The rifle strap across his chest really completes the look.   He takes off the rifle and jacket.  When he removes his trapper hat, oh god, his mess of gray and silver hair - he looks so, so good.  You feel something happening inside you, your body opening up, making space for him.  Thankfully, he doesn't smooth his hair this time. 

He’s still catching his breath, amped up from the gun fight and anxious to get back in your pants. 

"C'mon now, where were we?" He palms himself as he unzips his jeans and his hard cock springs free as he lets them fall to the floor.  All his muscles are bulging from the fight. His chest is red from the cold.  

He hovers over you, and from the look on his face, you must seem terrified, perhaps even more than you are. "It's okay baby they're gone." He pulls the blanket off,  tugs your pants down, then removes them.  "They're all gone," he repeats.  You're naked again, and he looks your body over.  His thick, messy hair  makes his dark eyes look so intense. 

He wets his lips as he gets between your legs again. He's in a better mood now.  He hovers over you and dips his head down to kiss and suck a nipple with his fingers lightly pinching the other one.  "Prettiest girl I ever saw." 

He feels between your legs and you're even wetter than before. "Good girl.  Ready for me?"

"Yeah," you nod, and this time you kinda are.

You watch the veins on his neck as he notches himself at your entrance and begins to push. You wince at the massive stretch of his girth. Your eyes drift to his muscular arms.  He doesn't wait.  He pushes further, harder.  He plunges into you as far as he can and your insides scramble to get out of the way. 

"Ahh," you whimper and your eyes sting. 

"You're alright, darlin." 

You look at the ceiling and breathe.  It's exactly as big and hard as you knew it would be. It feels impossible.  

"Look at me, beautiful."   You can't. 

"Look at me," he repeats, and his hand on your jaw forces you to. 

"You're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't ya?" 

You nod and your eyes drift to his hair again. 

He pulls back a couple of inches then thrusts his stiff length into you hard with a grunt, but still  doesn't make it all the way.  You're too tight. You can't help it. 

"Relax for me, baby."

He pulls back a little, then plunges into you again, finally bottoming out with a sigh. You never imagined you could feel so full.  As your body adjusts, you marvel at the feeling.  Your walls are still fighting the intrusion, squeezing him, trying to push him out. And he lets it an inch at a time,  but his cock is easily winning. It always reclaims its territory. 

"Good girl," he says.  He pulls back and slams in, to the hilt again. "Yeah," he whispers as he slowly retreats.  "Just like that," as he fills you up again. 

He pulls back slowly then briskly slams all the way into you.  Each time he buries himself inside you, it feels a little better.  You stop pushing him out at all.  After a minute or two, your body allows him a regular rhythm.  He looks at you with a new expression, sighs, and slows down but doesn't stop. 

Catching you off guard, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You freeze, then he pulls back and says "gimme some sugar." You accept his mouth and he kisses you hard and long.  Something flutters in your chest.  He pulls away then ramps up the intensity of his hips and begins to pound you, grunting each time his balls hit your ass.  It starts to become too much.  

After another minute, his face gets dark, angry.  It scares you. You worry that he's upset with your body starting to reject him.  He pulls out and lowers his head, looking up at you as he pumps himself. Then he shoots his warm load all over your tired seam with a long sigh. 

"Wasn't so bad, was it, beautiful?"  He starts thumbing your clit.  "Now I'll help you back." 

You don't really feel like it, though, you're just spent.  

"Um. Maybe next time," you say, not realizing what you've implied until his face lights up. 

"Any time you want."

He moves to lie down next to you and you make space.  Then he lets you fall asleep on his chest until the shift is almost over. 

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! 🖤

Please check your content settings!!

OTHER VIRGINITY LOSS by me

series: Left in Lincoln (outbreak dbf)

one shots: night talks, Just the tip, Virgin sex worker.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy

@tonysterco

@dark-scape the hair is for you

[sweetbunpura]

I’m sorry to request this I’m really am but have been reading a lot of this HC and then read post https://www.tumblr.com/sweetbunpura/766516274381586432/im-needing-some-drama-how-about-yuu-and-rollo? And thought I want to know. Rambleshack dorm after Yuu’s death. I’m sorry.

MORE DRAMA BUT WITH PAIN!

The dorm is cold and the lights are off, there are upturned chairs and destroyed items all over the place. Walking up the stairs, Malleus can see scorch marks and claw marks on the railing. The halls are filled with the sound of the crying residents. Passing an open door, there was Honest curled around a crying Gidel, he's trying hard to comfort the child but he's crying as well.

"C-Come on, Gideon. She wouldn't want to see you cry." Honest's ears were pinned flat to his head as he sniffed. "We have to be... have to be... I ain't got it in me, Giddy."

Gidel wails into his brother's shirt as Honest muffles his own sobs.Malleus stared at them with a sad look on his face and with a simple snap of his fingers, put them both to sleep. Following the loud sound of wailing to the open door master dorm room, there was Flamme holding a sobbing Grim whose claws were in his shirt.

"She said she'd be fine!" Grim wails. "She said she'd try not to get involved anymore! She lied! She's a liar!"

The young man doesn't say anything, but his body is shaking as if he's trying to hold everything together. Malleus put Grim to sleep as he slumped in Flamme's arms.

"Are you just going to go around putting everyone to sleep?" Flamme's voice was quiet as his back was facing Malleus. "Did your overblot mean nothing to you? Did her risking her life to save you mean nothing to you?"

He was quiet as he levitated Grim onto the bed and looked at the crying man.

"What? What are you here for?" He hissed. "Have you come to see all of us when we're at our lowest?" Flamme got to his feet. "Or are we the last ones you haven't-"

Malleus wrapped his arms around Flamme and gave a shaky inhale. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

The human was still before his body started to shake with hiccups that soon shifted into sobs. They both fell to the floor, holding one another the same way Yuu had held them. NRC was never going to be the same ever again.

[mazosstuff]

Heartsteel boys × classical singer!reader

Pairings: Aphelios, Ezreal, Sett, Kayn, Yone, K'sante (separately) × gn reader

Cw: maybe reader being a little insecure?

Words: 1.1 k

Aphelios

• You sometimes forget he's in the house, so, thinking you're alone, you start singing a little.

• You were no master at it so it was a little hard for you to say if you were singing with your throat or not, and that was one of his reasons why you never sang infront of him, but following some advices from your vocal coach helped alot.

• You were cooking something when you remembered the part of an opera you did when you didn't know Phel.

• Not noticing him, you started singing the solo and, my my, our boy was shocked.

• He realised you didn't know he was there, but he just stared at you awestruck.

• You never raised your voice in front of him, but to hear it so loudly, he was certainly amazed by it. (Doesn't mean that you were screaming, but it is pretty loud when someone sings right next to you, been there, done that myself)

• It was powerful, and even if he didn't understand a word of what you said, he still thought it was beautiful.

After ending your solo, you turned around and saw him, completely frozen in the spot.

Your cheeks went red

"Phel!" You exclaimed. "I didn't know you were home."

He grabbed his phone and wrote on the notes: do it again

"You... wanna hear me sing?" He nodded his head.

"And to think people say I'm too loud when I sing like this... don't you mind?" He shook his head to indicate a no.

Ezreal

• He kinda knew you sang a little, but he never knew what kind of genre you would be into.

• When you heard their song for the first time, you liked it a lot, so he thought your favourite genre of music must be electronic or pop.

• Truth to be told, you were really versatile with your taste in music.

• You two have a shared playlist where you once put an aria by accident, and you didn't notice until he told you.

"Babe, do you listen to classical music?" You stared at him. How did he know?

"Yeah... I usually sing it too..."

"Shut up, let me hear you! I wanna hear you sing the one you put in our playlist."

Panic. Total fucking panic. What if he didn't like it? What if you messed up the high note? What if...?

"Okay" you finally gave in.

"Let me just prepare a little... I don't wanna hurt my vocal cords."

After preparation, you started. Your heart pounded like crazy.

All went smoothly. You were so scared of having a voice crack but it never happened.

He got his yellow glasses and put them on his face just to push them down (like the scene in the MV).

"Why didn't you tell me I have a soulmate who sings better than me?"

"What...?"

"You can do high notes and everything! I need to tell this to everyone! My soulmate is already special by themselves, but this? You're amazing!"

Sett

• I feel like his mother would turn up the volume of the radio whenever classical music was put.

• He usually rolled his eyes when he was younger, but with age he started to understand the work and the vocal training people put to reach those levels. He respected it.

• Once you were going somewhere so he turned on the radio to put some music and the station the radio was on was the one of classical music.

• Before he could change the station you started singing.

• He secretly started to record you.

• He was impressed to say the least.

You looked over to him. "Delete that. Now."

"Oh come on, babe. You have millions of videos of me singing. Why can't I have one of you?"

"Touché..."

"Do you think I can sing whatever you sang now?"

"Do you wanna end up like Phel?"

"Omg, no"

"Then don't"

Kayn

• Bro rolls his eyes whenever he hears the words classical and music put together.

• He will pretend to throw up whenever you make him listen to a song that's not rock, pop, metal, or anything that doesn't have fast rhythm.

• One time it happened that you found a recording of you singing.

• He wanted to listen to make fun of your taste in music, but he was...

• He couldn't understand.

• Something he thought was lame just became... angelic.

"So... what do you think...?"

"It's okay, I guess"

"Wait... you are telling me that you liked it? Kayn, sweety, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. And what's with the sweety now? Don't say that again"

So, under that façade of the bad boy, there is a golden heart after all.

Yone

• He listens to the classic music playlists on spotify. You can't tell me otherwise.

• Would be delighted to know that you two shared this little interest.

• Would let you sing him to sleep if he allowed himself to rest.

• Once, because you had a minor argument, you slept in separate rooms.

• He couldn't sleep so tried with the music he had saved of spotify but nothing worked.

He knocked at your door.

"What?" You asked him, still pretty pissed off, but probably because of the tiredness and the sadness.

"I can't sleep."

"Me neither"

"Can... can you sing me that one melody you sing me everytime?"

"Can't you just listen it on your own?"

"Why deprive myself of the better version when I have it right in front of me?" The reality was that he needed your voice and not some of a stranger.

If your body wasn't a solid, it would have melted right there.

"Fine..."

(But no seriously, how can you not love this man)

K'Sante

• He would start humming with you some famous pieces.

• I don't know why but I have the feeling that he also has heard somethings so he has a basic knowledge of classical music.

• He asked why didn't you join a choir yet. With your talent, you should.

• He once tried sneaking up on you while you were reading a music sheet.

• With how scared you were you hit a high note that wasn't even in your range, or at least you thought it wasn't.

• The man was too stunned to speak.

"Did you just...?"

"I didn't even know that was in my range..."

"What were you reading anyway? Did you join a choir?" He gasped in excitement.

"Yeah... I followed your advice. It's actually more welcoming than I thought it would be"

"I'm so happy you're comfortable there!" He picked you up and hugged you.

A/n: Hi there! Paranoia has been stuck in my mind for quite some time, so I thought I might write something for the boys from the perspective of someone who grew up in a family of musicians and professional classical singers.

Riot... you gotta tell me why do you create them, make them drop a banger, and make them disappear into thin air.

I am waiting for a comeback of both K/DA and True Damage.

I hope you liked this! As always, requests are open. Check my pinned post!

[starberry-cupcake]

back by popular (?) demand, I am now starting chapter 28 of gideon the ninth and I guess I'm sharing updates to the general public now ( @lady-harrowhark this is your responsibility). I think I'm gonna put them under this tag because I am being told I will want to look back on them later (sounds threatening ngl).

previously, in gideon the ninth:

isaac was ended by some junji ito shit

jannemary was ended by a stealthy junji ito shit

very pointed messages were written for them

which is too dramatic to be a random monster killing, if you ask me

gideon took a 15 minute nap and was startled awake in hell

gideon most definitely did not look much at the room before she took said nap, nor did she remember the paper she's still carrying around

I'm losing my mind at the paper

I'm like watching another d&d player choose to never look at something the dm gave them

were we are now:

gideon is back, now with More Trauma

harrow has the compassion of a feral kitten

this is a bad combination for me, personally, in particular, because this means gideon is going to look for comfort in my mortal enemy dulcinea

she gives her a talk that is trying to distract me from the fact that I don't trust her, but I will never trust her

she was like "it'd be better to die here than to be living longer and trapped" and I was like "wanna let me help you with that?"

palamedes has also been carrying a dulcinea boner, which also makes things difficult for me

because if my mortal enemy ends up being bad and dangerous, and palamedes is in danger, it would force camilla to be in danger, and we don't want, under any circumstances, to put camilla in danger

mayonnaise uncle has been gossiping in the eighth and ortus's mom (where I'm from, 'orto' means 'ass', so I will never forget his name) spilled the beans on the ninth

he offers gideon literal tea with a side of the metaphorical tea

here's where I went "boy, I sure hope harrow doesn't push gideon away and gives her a reason to turn to these guys"

harrow proceeds to do just that

with clockwork precision

I cannot emphasize enough how meticulously she did this

if pushing people away was an olympic sport, and if that was the way to judge this competition, this book would be 10 pages long because harrow has mastered the craft

you could hear gideon's psyche becoming dust

needless to say, we're having tea with the eighth soon, everyone bring your scones and poison

which, you know, fine, at least gideon will be told information

and btw, protesilaus is still live reacting from an unknown location

idk what regina george twin, yandere simulator twin and chad the third are doing but, at this point, I don't know what anyone is doing, really

except for dulcinea, I JUST KNOW she's up to no good

and the second is probably still dealing with the fact that they lost to Camilla The Everything

[thatfreshi]

Soulmates Aren't Always Beautiful (Astarion x Reader)

Part 2 to "He's Not Sick, Is He?", the happy ending everyone (including me) wanted.

Recommended Song: Run - Taylor Swift Ft. Ed Sheeran

You fall asleep in the dark alleyway, finding some peace and quiet in the cold stone. Thinking back a couple of weeks ago, Astarion would've killed you for being so reckless, passing out somewhere in the city. When you wake to broad daylight, you wonder if he'd even care, if he'd notice how long you were gone for. You know he cares, deep down you truly do, but it doesn't feel like it. It's hard to seem like you care about anything when you can't even care about yourself.

Astarion has been awake since you left, wondering if maybe he pushed you away for good. Somewhere in his brain, he says that's probably for the best. He knows it's been miserable, that looking after him has been a fruitless endeavor. He goes in between reading a book he's already memorized and staring at the bottle of your blood on the table. It was true, he needed blood, he felt miserable, and yet there was comfort in that misery, as if this is how it was supposed to be. It reminds him of that year in the crypt, when there were no rats to be found, how he desperately wanted a drop of crimson, and yet there was nothing.

He wakes from the memory when his eyes meet the bottle again, knowing you sliced your arm open for him. Why were you so determined to try? Why did you want to be there so badly? Astarion thinks of the moments you laughed together, but he can't place the jokes. He remembers kissing you, finally becoming intimate again, but it's all a blur. The past week has felt like centuries. The vampire desperately wants to take the bottle, try to drink some of your blood, but everything is screaming at him to stay in bed, that his bones will be far too heavy if he even tries to stand up.

Hours pass, it's early in the morning now and you're not back. He thinks about the past week, how all of his friends left the inn and he didn't even say goodbye, how you kept making up excuses for him. Would he ever see them again? Would he ever see you again? Memories flood back of Cazador's palace, stabbing him to death, the sobs and screams. What would he think, if his old master could see him rotting in the sheets, unable to even feed himself. He eyes the bottle again, and slowly moves to sit up against the headboard. It's slow, creaking movement, that feels like trying to break through paralysis. When he's sat there long enough, he reaches out to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle you so kindly gave him. Eyeing the fluid, he almost wants to throw up, nauseous from how long it's been since he last drank. But then, he think of you, of your companions, of Cazador's death. It wouldn't mean anything if he wasted away here forever. He drinks. It's not nearly enough, but it's something, something to make up for days of starving. He begins to cry again, from how hard it was to simply drink your blood. Then, he hears the soft knock on the door, and just continues crying.

You hear him before you see him, and you're rushing in after you knock. It hits you: the bottle is empty. He's not lying down, wrapped up in fabric. Astarion's eyes lock with yours, but he says nothing, and continues wiping away at his tears. You come to the bed and hold him, and he unravels in your hands.

"Thank you my love, thank you for trying. I'm so proud, I hope you know that."

You choke out those words of encouragement, truly shocked that he managed to do anything. It's such a relief.

"I'm sorry."

He whispers to your chest.

"It's okay, it's okay Aster I promise. I've got you, always."

You comb through his hair with your hands, blood still crusted from days ago. The urge to grab an actual comb is strong, but you hold back, knowing he just needs you to be here right now.

"I should feel better. Why don't I feel better?"

"It takes time love, it'll come in time. This is just the beginning, I swear it."

Astarion doesn't often like promises, but he believes them when they come out of your mouth.

"Is... is your arm alright?"

"It'll be just fine."

It definitely wasn't fine now, and would most likely get infected despite your efforts to clean it, but you'd go see Shadowheart soon enough. After a few moments of silence, he shifts to look up at you.

"Could I, perhaps feed on you now?"

You smile.

"Of course."

He's still shaky, softly digging his teeth into your skin. The drinking starts slow, but speeds up once he realizes just how deep his hunger runs. At some point he releases his teeth, and lays back in your grasp.

"Better?"

"A little."

There a few moments where he simply relishes the feeling of being fed. He had forgotten for a moment just how much his stomach ached for blood.

"Are you up for a little more?"

You wonder if this has been enough care for him, if he needs some more rest.

"Could we just, lay here? And you can ask me again in a while?"

You run a spare hand across his back.

"I'd love nothing more."

It hits you in that moment, just how hard taking care of a lover is, how it rips your chest wide open at times. No one could ever make you feel as much anguish as Astarion could, and that was a curse as well as a gift. Soulmates aren't always beautiful. Sometimes they hurt, knowing you're forever attached at the hip to a miserable aching person. But those moments, when you can talk without saying a word, when all it takes is a look, it makes it all worth it. You think about all the times you battled together, how many times he killed in your stead, how many times you did the same. You remember the fear, the love, the pain. Your hands grip him tighter.

No, soulmates aren't this angelic concept. They're messy, affectionate but messy.

"I killed him..."

You're woken from the memories, looking down at the loving elf in your grasp.

"Mhm, you did. He's gone now, forever."

"I'm still scared though."

It tugs at your heartstrings a little, knowing how much this is to process, especially after being under his reign for far too long.

"We're always going to be a little scared, just of more normal things now. Like Lae'zel being angry or knowing Karlach could snap us in half."

He breathes out a little, almost forming a chuckle, lost somewhere in the air. Your eyes trail back to his hair again, and the bloody matted mess it has become.

"Could I try to clean some of this out my love?"

Your fingers glide through the hair closest to his scalp, getting stuck soon after. He makes a small noise of agreement. Trying your best not to make him move, you grab your comb from the other nightstand.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

You ask, beginning to pick out the dried blood, knowing most of it is Cazador's. It makes your skin crawl a little.

"Do you think I'll be okay?"

The urge to joke with him is strong, like you normally would, but he's fragile right now. Saying 'You have your whole immortal life to be okay' probably isn't a good choice.

"I do. Might take some time, but we'll figure it out."

"It's just... so paralyzing."

"What is?"

"Freedom."

A thought you hadn't had before now. Spending your entire life with one goal, and now being met with infinite choices, that must be terrifying.

"Well, what do you want to do with your freedom?"

"Everything. And nothing. I, I just don't know what's next. I've always known what's next."

"How about we just focus on one thing at a time? Then, you don't have all these options to choose from, just something to do."

"What if I choose wrong?"

"That's the beauty of freedom my love. It's not so black and white. You live in the grey now, where you can't really choose wrong. You can just, choose."

"I almost chose wrong at Cazador's."

You feel a little sick, thinking about what would've happened after the ritual. How different your precious lover would've been, how you would've lost your dear Aster.

"But you didn't."

"Only because you convinced me."

"And I'll be here to help you with the rest, as long as you need my help."

"I think I'll need your help forever."

"Then I'll offer it up for eternity."

You plant a kiss on his forehead, almost done brushing through his curls now.

"But you won't have to make a choice as big as that again. At least not for a long, long time."

For the next couple of hours, you tiredly talk about everything and nothing, finally getting him a fresh change of clothes and a warm bath. There's a moment where you're wiping the blood and dirt off his face, and you pause, lost in his eyes.

"What?"

You smile.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky. That's all."

As you're getting ready to lie down, you remember that every day won't be as successful as this one. Two steps forward, one step back. But you're hopeful, like Gale said, that's all you can be. Astarion melts into your touch and you wrap yourselves up in the shitty inn blanket together, his back to your chest. Sometimes you can feel the scars through his shirt.

"I'm proud of you. For all of it, today, yesterday, everything you've ever done."

He doesn't say anything, but he loses a little tension in his shoulders, unclenches his jaw.

"Just promise me you'll get up and try again tomorrow. That's all I can ask of you, that you keep trying, every single day."

"I do, I promise."

The two of you drift off without saying much else, and it's the best sleep he's had in weeks. The realization sticks with him, that you love him regardless, unconditionally. A smile stretches across his face in his slumber, excited to make a small choice, to wake up again tomorrow and try.

[cookybananas]

This Wasn't The Plan (Former!Anakin Skywalker x Reader)

Angsty. Spoiler alert: main character dies

summary: When an old friend reaches out to you asking for help, but the mission doesn't go as planned.

This is set 9 years after the events of Revenge of the Sith. Your former lover, Anakin Skywalker, has turned to the dark side and had become a Sith Lord by the name of Darth Vader. But you don't know that. You believed in Obi-Wan's lie that Anakin had died on Mustafar and that the Republic had fallen into the hands of the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious who had created the Empire. The hunt for surviving Jedi ensues. This forces you and Obi-Wan to go your separate ways and into hiding to protect yourselves from the inquisitors who are on the hunt for the both of you.

I packed some rations in my bag, the last thing I needed before heading out. I looked at my lightsaber that was on my bed, deciding if I should bring it or not. After putting some thought to it, I sigh to myself, clipping it to the belt of my old Jedi robe I was currently wearing. I set out to meet up with Obi Wan at the coordinates he had sent me. It had been 9 years since I had seen my good friend. I didn't think he would ever contact me again, especially through the force. But apparently this was an urgent matter.

Obi-Wan told me there wasn't much information given to him when he reached out to me. Apparently he had gotten a holographic message from an unknown individual, saying that there were some former Jedis needing our help on the planet of Kashyyyk. I was hesitant at first about the mission, but he convinced me to come along with him. Plus, it's not like I had anything better to do with my life. I was a scavenger, I tore apart ships and weapons from the Empire and resold the parts to make a living off of them. I didn't earn much, but it was enough to keep me alive.

The Jedi had fallen years ago from Order 66. My masters, my fellow Jedi who I had trained with, the younglings whom I taught, most of them didn't make it from the purge--they were all killed. Anakin, the love of my life was killed right before the Empire had rose to power, I lost my best friend; Padme. Obi-Wan and I had gone our separate ways and went into hiding. Just when we thought everything was going well at the time, that glory had dissolved as if it were nothing.

There have been many times I had cried myself to sleep at the thought of losing Anakin. Part of me still believes that he's alive somewhere in the star system and part of me wants to believe what Obi-Wan has told me; that Anakin is truly dead and that I need to move on to live for myself. As much as I wanted to reach out through the force to him, I couldn't. I was worried that an inquisitor was nearby and could sense me. Or worse, the belligerent Darth Vader who has been in a pursuit of killing Jedi since they had they had fallen. I had to close myself off the force many years ago. Now that Obi-Wan needs me, this puts the both of us at risk of falling into the hands of the Empire and Darth Vader.

-

"It's good to see you again my old friend." Obi-Wan said, embracing me into a tight hug, to which I happily returned. Obi-Wan aged quite a bit the last time I saw him. The wrinkles around his eyes were prominent now, his beard grown out and untamed.

"And you as well Obi. Maker...it's been so long." I said, getting a little teary-eyed at our little reunion. Obi-Wan looked at me with sad eyes, nodding in agreement.

"Well, we have a long way to Kashyyyk, that should give us time to catch up Y/N." He gave me a small smile, as we made our way into his small ship, setting course to Kashyyyk to help our Jedi brothers and sisters.

"Do you have a plan?" I spoke up, breaking the long period of silence between us. Obi-Wan scoffed at my question.

"Well of course I do Y/N, you didn't think I would go in blindly would you?" He replied, smiling to himself. I snorted at his response, reminding me the many memories I have of him, Anakin, and I back in the days of the Clone Wars. Anakin and I were the ones that would go guns-blazing in during missions. Obi-Wan would always be the person coming up with the plans beforehand, to which sometimes Anakin and I did follow, sometimes.

Obi-Wan runs over the plan with me. The coordinates that he was provided had given us a location at a base in the lush forests of Kashyyyk. Apparently that's where the Jedi are said to be located. Once we land, we would split up to find any remaining Jedi and relocate them back to Alderaan. Obi-Wan had been in touch with Bail Organa since the fall of the Republic and had informed him about this mission.

The ship lands on an empty landing pad that was located outside the entrance of what looked like an abandoned temple. Obi-Wan and I exit out the ship, taking a look around our surroundings.

"I've got a bad feeling about this" I spoke up, scanning the environment.

"Meet me back here in an hour. If you can find any Jedi, we'll relocate them to Alderaan." Obi-Wan said.

"Sounds good to me." I responded. We both make our way into the temple, going separate ways once we enter.

-

The Sith Lord stands tall as he gazes at the stars through the windows of the ship. He ponders to himself, when all of sudden he felt something in the force. Assuming that the presence was belonging to his former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Vader smiles to himself for being able to finally have Obi-Wan walk into his trap after what he had done to him all those years ago. But then he felt the pull become stronger and stronger by the moment. No... it can't be, the Sith Lord thinks to himself. It couldn't possibly be her. Y/N... You died 9 years ago. The remnants of your ship were in pieces when he had searched for you. You couldn't have survived the impact at the state of ship he found it in. When Anakin--Vader, had found the japor snippet that he had given you was on the ground, it pushed him further to believe that you had died on impact. He believed your clones got to you when Order 66 occurred. He blamed himself for causing your death. You deserved a better fate. But at the same time, he didn't want you to see what he had become.

Vader pushed his thoughts to the side. Still believing that you had died all those years ago.

-

A good amount of time had passed. I wasn't sure how long it had been but it surely has been over an hour. I hadn't seen any Jedi yet, yet alone any traces of any Jedi being here. Something isn't right, I know it isn't because the force has been trying to tell me something since we landed.

I felt another presence in the force. It didn't feel like it was Obi-Wan. I froze in place, hearing footsteps in the distance; becoming closer and closer to me. I turn around, igniting my lightsaber as I was met with an inquisitor standing behind me with their double-bladed lightsaber already ignited.

"Well, well, you're not definitely Kenobi. But I'll gladly take you in as well." The inquisitor said, stepping closer to me as I took a step back. I wasn't fit to fight them. It had been years since I last fought with my lightsaber. Without thinking, I immediately turned around and ran away from the inquisitor. I took out my comlink to get a hold of Obi-Wan as I ran to find the exit.

"OBI-WAN, IT'S A TRAP!!" I yelled into the comlink, but I was met with static in response. The connection wasn't strong, perhaps the inquisitors had intercepted our communication or the connection on Kashyyyk just wasn't as good.

I found myself in what looked like an abandoned throne room. I hid myself behind the throne, trying to catch my breath as I tried to disconnect my force signature so the inquisitor wouldn't find me as easily. I cursed myself for agreeing to come along with Obi-Wan on this fallacious mission.

As the footsteps of the inquisitor drew nearer and nearer to the room. I overheard the inquisitor's voice, as if they were talking to someone else. I peaked my head over the throne to see the inquisitor in the doorway talking to a holographic figure on their wrist.

"Lord Vader, it's important that you know that not only one Jedi has fallen into your trap but two." The inquisitor said boastfully, holding up a hologram of Lord Vader.

"Very well inquisitor. Locate them now. I will deal with Kenobi and his friend accordingly. I want them alive." Lord Vader's mechanical voice booming through the hologram.

"Yes my lord." The inquisitor turns off the hologram, scoffing to themselves and kicking a pebble off the ground. "Why do they matter to you this much?" the inquisitor says under his mouth.

I held my breath, hoping that the inquisitor doesn't walk into the room I'm in. When I don't see them in the door way I make a run towards the door, only to be stopped by the inquisitor.

"Nice try, but I have orders to follow Jedi scum." the inquisitor spat at me, blocking the doorway. I furrow my eyebrows, igniting my lightsaber again.

"You won't take me alive."

"I wish I didn't have to, but I have orders from Lord Vader himself." the inquisitors says before swinging their double-bladed lightsaber. Our lightsabers clashing with one another. I try catching my breath as I fight the inquisitor, but the 9 years without fighting, has made me lose some abilities in my Jedi skills.

"I see the years have not been kind to you. You're out of shape grandma." the inquisitor comments. I grunt in response and roundhouse kick the inquisitor, sending them flying across the room. The inquisitor gets back on their feet again and darts towards me.

Just when I think I can take them down, the inquisitor's blade makes contact with my shoulder. I cry out in pain as I'm thrown off balance. I step back, grasping my shoulder that was just cut. The cut was bright red and burning.

The inquisitor laughs at my pathetic state. Determined to take down this inquisitor, I run towards them with my saber. I was able to dodge their first swing, but on the second swing, the inquisitor's blade had found itself impaled through my stomach. I let out a gasp. The inquisitor looking surprised at themselves at what they did.

The inquisitor draws their blade back. My saber falls out of my hand and rolls away from me as my body hits the ground. I clutch the part of my stomach where I had been just stabbed.

I try to control my breathing as I watched as the inquisitor walk out the room without saying a word to me. The building starts rumbling, as if it was starting to crumble down.

Then next thing I know, I see Obi-Wan running into the room, running up to me.

"Y/N!" Obi-Wan kneels down and cradles me in his arms. He brushes a strand a hair away from my face, his hand now holding one of my hands.

"Y/N stay with me now. I'm gonna get you out of here." Obi-Wan looks at me and looks down at my wound. His eyes were filled with panic with the hole inside my stomach.

"O-Obi Wan, you have to go." I said weakly, looking at him.

"I won't leave you here Y/N." He responded, squeezing my hand and body tightly.

"Y-you'll die here." I said as the building starts to crumble piece by piece. Pieces of stone and debris falling from the ceiling.

"Don't say such nonsense, we have to go" He pleaded.

"Obi-Wan...My place is here.. and... he's here...I can sense him." I breathe out. The hole in my stomach making it harder for me to breathe.

Obi-Wan's eyes widen. He knew he was here as well. Obi-Wan was about to lift me off the ground until I spoke up.

"Leave me here Obi-Wan...Get out of here...S-save..your..self" I huffed out my last breath.

-

Your body goes limp in the arms of Obi-Wan. The last thing you saw was a dark figure, watching from the doorway before your body succumbed to your injury. Vader... You whispered under your final breath before dying in the arms of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan lets out a strangled cry. He closes your eyelids as the feeling of guilt creeps up on him. But the mourning over his good friend was short-lived. Obi-Wan freezes in place as he feels Vader's presence nearby. When he looked up, he saw the Sith Lord standing by the doorway, menacingly. Obi-Wan, lays your body down on the cold stone floor, now towering over your body to square up with the Sith Lord.

Vader who had been watching the entire situation unravel, his breathing became heavier as he starts to hyperventilate. Causing the temple to shake even more, pieces of the temple fell down around them. He had felt you, he felt your pain. Your first cry was enough to have the Sith Lord come and look for you, but your second cry was enough for him to feel the amount pain you were in.

"What have you done?!" Vader's mechanical voice barked, echoing through the room.

"This was your doing Anakin!" His former master retorted. Vader slowly makes his way over to him, striding menacingly to where Obi-Wan and your lifeless body was.

Obi-Wan backs up away from Vader. Vader kneels next your body and touches the nape of your neck to find a pulse to confirm that you weren't dead, but it was too late. He clenched his fist and lets out a booming cry. Obi-Wan couldn't see it, but he was crying under the mask. The building continue to shake more under his agony.

"Leave. Now." He said, glancing back up at his former master. Obi-Wan was hesitant at first, but soon nodded in response and made his way out of the crumbling building towards his ship.

Vader scooped up your body and carried you bridal style out of the building, making sure to give you a proper burial once he landed on a planet worthy of your funeral. As he makes his way out, he and Obi Wan look at each other one last time before Obi-Wan takes off in his ship.

Vader boards his ship, laying your body down on the table. He takes off his helmet, revealing his long blonde locks and handsome face that were still in pristine condition. He examines your face for sometime. Forgetting how beautiful you were. The years have not been kind to you. He noticed how your cheekbones are more prominent now, perhaps due to lack of food and having to remain in hiding. He brushed your hair with his gloved hand and started whispering all the things he wanted to tell you. He wanted to start a family with you after the war was over, but it is far too late for that now. He wanted to raise his family on Naboo, or Alderaan. The life he dreamt with you, had diminished the day he founds the remains of your ship.

He started to feel guilty for being the reason of causing you a great deal of suffering and now, he was now the reason for your death. He sat next to your body and had held your left hand that still bore the wedding ring he made for you. You both had gotten secretly married on Naboo, just right after the Clone Wars had begun.

After a good amount of time had passed, Anakin--Vader had eventually gotten up from his seat and took off his cape to cover your body with it.

This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go. He didn't expect you to be here, let alone be alive. All he wanted was his revenge on Kenobi, but little did he know that you would be caught in the middle of it.

The guilt that Obi-Wan had felt was unbearable at first. He wished he didn't rope you into this mission. He didn't think for one second that this could have been a trap for himself and for the both of you. Obi-Wan lives out his days with a heavy heart for being the reason you died.

Vader spends the next several years alone, wondering about the day he will kick the bucket. It isn't until one day, a new hope emerges and relieves from him the dark side. Where he would redeem himself and be reunited with you as your force ghost had waited a long time for him to join you in the afterlife. Together, you both spend an eternity together without having to suffer ever again.