#He might be oblivious but I think he would have noticed wings

[twinkle-twinkle-up-above]

Carry On Countdown 2024 Day 23: Goats

"You can't go back, Simon, you can never go back…"

@carryon-countdown

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)

Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.

Content: female reader, fluff

[Part 3] | [Part 5] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.

The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.

One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.

"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.

"We could even go on a trip around New Year."

Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 

"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 

"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 

"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 

"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."

You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:

"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."

The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.

He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.

As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.

On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?

Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.

"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."

"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 

"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."

"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.

Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 

"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 

Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."

You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 

Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 

But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 

"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"

"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.

Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.

"Did you...?"

"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 

"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.

Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 

"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"

"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."

You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 

"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."

"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."

Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 

"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."

The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 

"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"

The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 

You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 

"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.

"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 

His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.

"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.

"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 

"Attagirl!"

As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.

He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 

"I see Daitou's trained you already."

He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 

"You'll make a good wife."

"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 

"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 

"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!

Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.

And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"

You nod energetically.

"Good, good."

He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.

"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...

Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."

You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 

"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 

How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 

[imaginesmai]

Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

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

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

[starryal1na]

—❀ ‧₊˚. 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

genre: fluff, sfw

word count: 850

characters: aventurine, boothill, sunday, dr ratio

notes: this is just soft random thoughts i have about them and needed to write down, no theme in particular, dr ratio wearing glasses does things to me (*≧ω≦*), special thank to my irl friend charlotte (<3) for proofreading this ! divider credit to @/cafekitsune ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Aventurine ⊰ ⊹ ─

Owning himself plenty of jewelry, such as rings or expensive watches, it makes sense that Aventurine would want to gift his lover all kind of sumptuous pieces. Over the years, he has had you displayed with pearly necklaces, the shiniest earrings and even rings with precious gemstones. Undoubtedly you loved every single one of them. Each gift Aventurine has given you were meaningful to you, as a symbol of his deep affection for you. However, you must admit you have a favorite one. A gift from one of your anniversary that you adore more than anything. It might be the most classic piece of jewelry you own in term of appearance, but it holds a special place in your heart.

The gift is a bracelet, a thin gold chain gold with a small aventurine stone at its center. Beyond the fact that it is his stone, what's making this gift even more significant is that Aventurine has one as well. While you wear yours on your left, he wears his on his right wrist below his watch. He intented for the two of you to share matching bracelets you could wear daily and that was subtle enough only the two of you could really notice it through your other extravagant jewels. Since then, one glance at the aventurine bracelet on your wrist and your heart skips a beat ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Boothill ⊰ ⊹ ─

Every other day, Boothill finds himself mesmerized by the way you take care of your hair. Whether you brush it, braid it, decore it with accessories, he watches from afar with the softest glare. The one reserved for you, and you only.

Today is one of those where you've decided to use the cute ribbons you have recently purchased. Sitting confortably in front of your mirror, you feel Boothill's eyes on you as you display the cute accessories on the floor. "Which color do you think I should wear today ?" "Don't know, sugar. They'd all look fudgin' nice in your pretty hair" "That's very helpful thank you, baby". Boothill snickers, his attention splits between his gun he's been checking for a few mintues, and watch you clip a white and pink ribbon to the side of your head, securing a little braid. Fork, she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. Oblivious to your overheating cyborg boyfriend next to you, you finish your hairstyle and spin around with a "tadaaa !" only to find him dumbfounded and an adorable flush spreading on his cheeks. "Forkin' hell ! Got myself the prettiest gurl ain't I ?" Naturally, it ended with you pampering his face with kisses and he even lets you tie ribbons in his hair as well ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Sunday ⊰ ⊹ ─

Dearest Sunday was always a bit of a control freak, until he met you. Well he still is one but ever since you've become a couple, his controlling demeanour has somewhat softened. Your presence clearly helped him feel loved and needed, satisfying the yearn to be someone's special one. In the intimacy of your relationship, he has grown more laid-back, to the point of allowing you to touch his precious wings.

This has become one of your favorite ways to demonstrate your love, carefully and tenderly caressing his feathers. They're so delicate you often worry you'll hurt him, but it actually helps Sunday relax. "Do not worry, my angel. Think of it as a hug. It is warm and very comforting for me" he once reassured you. Afterwards, it became a routine for the two of you. Sunday coming home from an exhausting day, you helping him rest by gently stroking his pretty wings. You even make sure to rub the base, where the tiniest feathers are, and the contented sighs he releases reassure you that you’re doing a really good job ♡

─ ⊹ ⊱ Dr Ratio ⊰ ⊹ ─

Usually, when you look at Veritas, the words circulating in your mind are often along the lines of handsome, gorgeous, sexy, serious..... angry. However in the evening, it's different. Sitting in his favorite comfy chair, he pulls you onto his his lap and puts on his glasses to read. You're aware you should focus on your own book but those glasses perched on top of his nose are seriously distracting you. This time, your mind fills with nothing but cute cute cute cute cuuuute. Obviously, he feels your stare on him –of course he does– it's not like you're being subtle anyway. Still, he pretends to act oblivious until you're the one bringing it up.

As he turns a page of his book, you shift on his lap. "Come on. Say it." His tone is serious, yet playful. "You... Cute." You blurt out, immediatly covering your face to cover the prominent blush on your face. "Darling, have you lost your ability to form full sentences ?" His cocky smirk making your blush worsen, nuzzling your head on his neck to hide it. Smiling down at your pouting and flushed face, he returns his attention back to his book. Although you go back to reading as well, he knows you’re sneaking glances at him every so often ♡

/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\

[seelestars]

WHO CONFESSES FIRST ? (sunday, aventurine)

a/n : i apologize for being super super duper inactive… motivation has been hard for me to find, but now w penacony i feel more inspired! and luckily, im on break so hopefully ill be able to write a bunch more (*≧∀≦*) my writing might not be the best rn, im still slowly trying to ease into writing so do forgive me </3

sunday

- I feel like he would be the type to confess first

- he’s a bit shy about it, but he tries his best to not let it show ! (●´ω｀●)

- he would plan out the whole thing meticulously, making sure everything is exactly how he wants it to be during his confession

- if even one thing is out of place (ex. it rains) then he completely reschedules it

- he’s unsure what gifts to get you, so he ends up getting everything that he thinks you’d like !

the weather was perfect for a stroll, or even for mundane relaxation. sunday could feel himself grow nervous as he patiently waited for you to arrive. his hands were filled with flowers, chocolates, and cute little trinkets that reminded him of you. he knew it would be quite unusual if other people spotted the head of the oak family out in a very populated area while holding a bunch of gifts, so he decided to make sure not a lot of people would be around at this hour.

soon enough, you had arrived. your eyes immediately widened as you gasped at the sight of the plethora of things he had gotten you. “sunday… is this all for me?” you state at him in awe, your eyes softening at the slight rosy tint that adorned his cheeks. if you looked closely enough, you could notice the way his wings fluttered gently at the sound of your voice.

“…yes. it’s all for you.” sunday responds, averting his gaze as he braces himself to ask the question he’d been dying to ask. “it’s because I wanted to ask you something. …will you allow me to be your boyfriend?” to really make the moment seem more sincere, he builds up the courage to meet your gaze. his heart was beating incredibly fast as he eagerly anticipated your response—which would hopefully be a yes.

“awww, of course I would!” you laugh softly as you put the gifts you’ve received to the side, tackling him into a warm embrace. “all of this was very sweet of you.” you hum, looking up at him with a gaze so loving it made him shudder and fluster. it was obvious sunday was unused to receiving such affection as he smiles awkwardly, finally able to calm down now that you’ve agreed to date him.

aventurine

- now I feel like he’d push you to confess on purpose once he is sure the feelings he harbors for you is mutual

- he plays hard to get, acting oblivious to your attempts at hinting at your affection for him

- he just can’t help but keep on playing such a game—your determination is so cute to him ! ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

- he gives you just enough hope so that you’d persist with your attempts at courting him

- despite how he makes it seem like your tries don’t have much of an impact of him, he’s thinking about it day and night

you don’t know what gave you this sudden burst of confidence, but you were starting to regret it. though, you supposed it was too late now as you were already tapping on aventurine’s shoulder to grab his attention. “h-hey, can I ask you something?” you try your best to appear self-assured as you hide the gift you had for him behind your back.

“ah? it’s rare for you to be asking me things out of nowhere.” aventurine smirks in amusement as he turns around to face you, raising his eyebrows. “it must be a very important question… one that you can’t rest peacefully without knowing the answer to~” he hums, subtly teasing you. of course, he knew the reason behind why you suddenly decided to grab his attention. he was aware of your feelings for him, after all.

“…yes, you’re right. It’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.” you sigh, narrowing your eyes at him once you picked up on his teasing. “before I ask you… you won’t judge me or laugh at me in case you find the question foolish, right…?” aventurine didn’t even have a chance to answer that question as you have already started to talk again. “w-will you date me?!” you nervously pair your confession with the gift you had for him—a box of his favorite perfume.

there was an awkward silence between the both of you for a while. you knew it, he would never want to date you. he seemed out of your league, with many better options surrounding him. but then, to your surprise, his response was one that wasn’t rejecting you. “why not?” aventurine could feel his grin widen as he looked at the perfume, then up at you. his boldness shocked you, as it caused him to give you a quick peck on your lips. “haha! look at you! redder than any wine out there~” he teases, though it ultimately earned him a playful smack.

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 1 🕊️

Welcome to Part 1 of Dead Dove-themed Tomarrymort recs. I like fluff and soft and light-hearted fic as much as the next reader, but at the end of the day, Tomarrymort is a dark ship, and there are some brilliantly talented writers here creating incredibly dark & twisted absolute mindfucks of works that I want to pay tribute to. 

Please note there can be found potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below, so this time I will be placing all 30 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if non-con/dub-con is not a theme you would like to explore. 

This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!

*

Tomarrymort Non-Con/Dub-Con Recs

A Single Love by Vera_DragonMuse (E, 23k, complete)

If Tom had been raised by Harry instead, would he have grown up to be Lord Voldemort?

A Special Day by @vdoshu (E, 3k, complete)

“I think a fresh start is important. I’d like one, and I think this can be it.” “It’s a bit late for a fresh start for me, don’t you think?” he retorts snidely.

Aconite; Thistle by @kushimanii (E, 32k, complete)

Voldemort decides to keep Harry alive and impregnate him to bear children that he can raise into loyal Death Eaters.

Aftertaste by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, complete)

Harry noticed the handsome stranger before the game began.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted." Jenkins pauses. "Might have been a girl," he says. "We don't have any drawings, and all the texts are warnings that the God-Emperor is a jealous man - do not seek his puer, or you will be slain where you stand."

Cloudy by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Trapped alone in a prison on an island, there are many things Tom forgets. But he never forgets Harry.

Dark Light by CrazyJanaCat (E, 3k, complete)

Nineteen years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the Wizarding World is at peace, and for once, everything seems right. But what no one knows is that their hero has a dark secret...

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

For He is the Sun and I am His Shadow by @aglassroseneverfades (E, 13k, complete)

The date is September 1st, 1996. Lord Voldemort is about to get everything he's ever wanted.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

golden boy by @exarite (E, 3k, complete)

They thought Harry Potter was dead. Months after the battle at Hogwarts, the last of the Resistance finally gets captured. Voldemort shows them just how very much alive Harry Potter is.

Guaranteed Safety by Assapanick (E, 13k, complete)

The only problem would be convincing the Dark Lord to impregnate him, but Harry doesn’t plan on asking.

Harry Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rut by @neurowriter14 (E, 6k, complete)

Harry goes into the forest to confront Voldemort and his death, and all the while his rut waits in the wings, drawing Voldemort's curiosity.

Heartbeat by @phantomato (E, 24k, complete)

Harry, dumped into the past, communes with dangerous men.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.” “A sweet-hearted, good-looking, oblivious moderate, you mean?” Scorpius asks. “Well, that’s Harry Potter to a T. Too bad he’s married.” This is not the problem Scorpius thinks it is.

in bad faith by @cindle-writes (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort, despite looking thin and skeletal, is heavy enough of a weight on Harry’s chest that he’s having trouble breathing, each breath feeling like a thick, syrupy effort to draw in. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll take care of you,” Voldemort murmurs, hot breath ghosting over Harry’s ear.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

Legacy by Pengress (E, 6k, complete)

His Horcrux stared at him with wide green eyes. Voldemort could see the panic, the fear. He had accepted his place in the ritual reluctantly, but he had given the important permission for Voldemort to use his body, and while the preparation seemed to have scared his Horcrux, Voldemort would make sure he would not go back on his word.

Lingering Warmth by anon (E, 2k, complete)

In the aftermath of Harry's death, Voldemort admires Harry's corpse, and when Harry comes back to life he finds himself in a perplexing situation.

My Lord, Master, My Soul by FletchleyRose (E, 69k, complete)

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort learns that Harry Potter is his unintentional Horcrux. He decides to make him his – mind, body, and soul. Harry is not on board with this plan. But when the Dark Lord starts using pleasure instead of pain to convince him, will he be able to resist?

on the other side by @philolust (E, 3k, complete)

Someone abducts Harry Potter and the Dark Lord in an effort to get them to cooperate and end the war. It goes horribly wrong.

Precious Horcrux by @loneamaryllis (E, 127k, WIP)

"Precious Horcrux..." The two possessive, cloying words, hissed low, made Harrie feel nauseous. "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to keep you."

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

rise anew by @duplicitywrites (E, 5k, complete)

“I must thank you for this new body of mine,” Voldemort continues in an amused tone as he flexes the fingers of his new hand, examining the unnatural length of them. “It is unexpected but not… unpleasant.”

silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)

Harry approaches, quietly, arms raised in front of him. It doesn’t take long before pale skin transforms into soft fur as dark as the night sky. Red eyes, now green, look at Harry with such an intensity that he has to take a step back. Four-legged and as imposing as he is when standing in two, Tom Riddle has transformed into a panther.

Such a Noble Villain (part 1) / Monster Under the Bed (part 2) by Run_of_the_mill (E, 4k, complete)

Harry and Voldemort are in a classroom, and Harry is stuck to a chair. Some very weird, creepy stuff happens next because Voldemort is who he is.

The Tattoo by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)

Tom gives Harry a tattoo that creates a bond between them, giving Tom some control over his mind.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)

Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.

Tom Riddle and the Quest for Vulnerability by lejf (E, 16k, complete)

Auror Harry Potter has eighteen-year-old Tom Riddle bent over the table barely a day after he becomes his ward.

Violent Delights by @katsitting (E, 5k, complete)

“The Golden Boy is no more…” Voldemort whispered, voice high and reedy, amused. Harry was shoved against something hard and unyielding. It scratched along his back, chafing the skin. Harry didn’t so much as flinch, refusing to make a sound when more jeers sounded in the clearing, the words cutting through the rush of blood flooding Harry’s ears—

*

[dragonsoulage]

Giving back the bird's wings...

feat. Levi Ackerman

After some observing Levi confrontes you about your relationship with your boyfriend. He can't longer look and ignore the feeling that tugged at his heartstrangs. You deserve so much better...

In this story you are working for the survey corps as maid in the headquarters. And you have a really toxic relationship with your boyfriend. Idk why but writing for Levi always makes me want to write something angsty. So here we are ☠️✨ please be aware that some things can trigger. So take a look at the warnings.💖 Oh and I suck in proof reading ☠️

Wordcount:4k

Warnings: Angst, ab*sive relationship, tox*c relationship, mentions of domest*c v*olence, sad, but fluff especially in the end. Levi is really tender with you 💖

You sat there in his office, tears streaking your beautiful face. It hurt him, more than it hurt you.

He found out what happened, not that it was that hard at all, people just needed to take a closer look, a more concerned look behind that happy exterior you always put on.

It was convincing, nearly so convincing that Levi himself might not notice, not right away.

But he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

You were a sweet girl, you have always been. So giving and selfless. You weren't in the corps, no. But you worked for them as a maid.

You cleaned and made the beds for the scouts. You cooked and served, and of course always had an ear for everyone who needed it. Not only that, but you were part of the group who made the scout feel like family. Especially the trainees, the new ones.

Levi was always gruff, pretending he would find you annoying.

Although it was indeed the opposite. He knew you was a person that probably would give someone else your last money because they needed it more than you. Too good for this cruel world, too good for him.

Not that he ever had a chance, he always thought to himself. You were taken, not a single lady. Your boyfriend was part of the military policy. A tall guy, strong and really an eye-catcher. But well even when he always seemed so concerned for you, or so nice. He wasn't.

Levis steel blue eyes looked at you, how you hid your face behind your hair. That pain on your face, it tugged in his heart strings.

Why you were sitting here?

Well, after Levi slowly found out what kind of man your boyfriend was, he simply observed you. Some signs were clear, he wasn't dumb. He saw how you hid your bruises, how you cried alone, ate alone. Always trying to avoid when someone asked you...really asked you how you have been.   

But tonight he had enough of observing and lurking around you. He was sure, your tears you shed give it all away.

A barrier that broke after he pointed it out.

"It's not like you think, he can be gentle, I swear. Sometimes he just doesn't know how he should control his strength." your voice was thin, even now you was defending this piece of shit? This man, who claimed to love you? And yet hurt you so much.

"Stop defending him. He hurts you, you don't hurt people that way when you love them." his voice was cold, he was angry. Not at you, of course not. His hand went through his raven strands. "You are too good for him, you give him everything and he did what? Throwing it away? And you still think it's your fault?" There was a chuckle that ran down your spine, he was not amused far from it.

"Some people need-" you wanted to start why you saw something good, you always saw something good, even in the captain himself.

"It still makes my blood run cold, to remember what he did before. You never told me anything at all, or anyone. I don't watch, (Y/N)." he stated firm, and he was really concerned, for you. Too soft, to get hurt by someone like this, a bird in a cage which wings were cut off.

He stood up from his seat makes his way around the desk before he stopped in front of you. Your head hanging low.   

"It's not like I would be oblivious, i-I know what he does." You meant, your voice trembling. When you were small you always wanted a man like you had now, big and strong, popular among the ranks, a smile that makes your heart warm, until you discovered his smile, your boyfriend heart was not real. His smile never reached his eyes. It made you believe that simply you was too different for this world. You were the problem, in being too sensitive, too emotional. Caring too much for everything. You were a smart girl, but you lost your own worth for yourself.

Thinking it was all you ever could get.

"When you know, why then you are still there?" he asked in a deep voice, still standing in front of you, looking down at you. He wanted to get a reaction from you, wanted you to see how damn wrong this was.

"Where else should I go? What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your voice filled with sorrow and yet with anxiety.

"I want you to speak it out." Levi meant, and in his head he was killing this man about the 100th time.

"Speak out what? That hitting your girlfriend is wrong? That insulting her is wrong? Making her do things, she never wanted but never had a choice? This is the world we were born in, everyone has problems. Mine is not different. It is what it is, not that I deserve anything at all when I am taking everything too my heart, I try... I fucking try. And it is me who-" you said, and your voice went a little louder in the end, you wanted to lash out not knowing why, tears started to run down your cheeks again. He stopped you, grabbing your chin and lifted it so you were forced to look at him.   

"You are not aware how this makes my blood thin, to remember what you are to him." Levi himself talking a little louder because of the intensity of this situation. He would never allow anyone to touch you like that again. He would rather die than have the hands of this filthy man on you.

Alone the thought how much you suffered at these hands, not just physical.

But the Captain was right, what were you to your boyfriend? A question you asked yourself a lot, wanted to be better, wanted to improve, although you were already perfect in other eyes...in Levis eyes.

"What am I?" you asked, and you looked so vurnable to him, he wanted to shield you from anything cruel this world offered you.

"You are...precious." these words simply came out of his mouth before he could stop them. Not that they were not true, but maybe because they were too true, to himself.

"(Y/N) you are lovely, probably one of the most...purest people I know. You take care of everyone and everything around you, simply because this is the being you are. You make a place feel like home, because you are home." his voice lower this time laced with raw honesty, not that he sounded pretty about that, it was everything he usually would never say out loud. He then went to one of his knees and hold your hand. Your teary eyes widen, no one ever said anything like that to you. No one appreciated your personality like this.

"At least to me..." he than added thin. You took a shaky breath, tried to wipe your tears away. But his hand already was on your cheeks, his thumb collecting the salty fluid.

"Why are you saying this?" you asked him, it was irony still asking questions if this was true, how bad this man had damaged you?

"Because otherwise you wouldn't see it, not that you would see this now, he damaged you, broke your wings." Levi stated and there was this glint in his eye, a silent promise to himself.   

"He broke more than that, he never had a nice word what he really meant." you spoke and at least you now was lured out of your shell, telling him what you really felt. Levi meant every word he said to you. And he was not known to say things like that. You were that sweet expectation, he needed to let you know what you were to him...you were home.

"Levi..." your thin voice spoke his name with such a need, because you felt so lost.

"I give them back to you, I promise." he said it just made you cry more. You felt like you wanted to crawl inside you, away from this situation. Levi would give you back your wings, that were cut of so rudely.

"Shhh." he soothed you then before you was pulled into a warm hug. You were sobbing, like crying out every bit of pain your boyfriend gave you.  

After that conversation, Levi would never allow you to go back to that bastard, not with the knowledge he had.

You stayed in the headquarters. Levi stayed the whole time by your side, until you fell asleep, you were just so exhausted from all the crying and the distress. After he was sure you slept safe and sound he made his way out.

"Where you're going to this time?" a known voice was heard behind him, Levi turned around it was the Commander Erwin.

"Taking care of things." he replied, and it was with a cold tone, hard like steel. Erwin for sure wasn't clearly in the picture what had happened, but he knew Levi wouldn't react like this when it wouldn't be necessary.

"What things?" Erwin asked sternly.

"Removing some trash around here." Levi answered, not giving away at all what his dark plans were.

"Whatever you need to do, make sure it disappears thoroughly." the Commander said before he let Levi go his way. He knew he was going to kill someone, and that someone would be your heartless boyfriend....

Levi knew you would cry, he knew you would break. But you were broken long ago from a person who never even deserved all the love you could give.

His stepped were determined, with that one purpose. Someone who was just so fragile as you and yet so strong trying to hold your head above water, it hurt him.

You were drowning all by yourself, and this bastard of a man pushed your head underwater, filling your lungs so you couldn't scream.

It was unfair to him, like so many things. So many things weren't right, but this, this was not just something. You were good, lovely even, and Levi knew when it was time to let things rest, but this? How should he rest when he knows the bitter truth that someone was making your life harder. Making your life...not worthy.

When Levi reached his place he wanted to be he took a deep breath before he knocked on that door.

Someone opened it, indeed your boyfriend with that bright smile, that smile that teared you apart.   

"The Captain of the Survey Corps, how can I help?" he asked him not aware how the next hour would go for him. Besides the fact that he didn't even ask for you. Your work was done about 3 hours ago, and you didn't come home. Levi knew that because he was the one who stopped you from going home.

"Hm, just checking up on things. Your girlfriend works for us, just doing some check-ups." Levi said gruffly in a low voice, his eyes looked hard, although they always did. He was short yes but not less an authority, he stepped into your home, the home you shared with this man.

"Oh yeah of course, we do these check-ups too, in our ranks." your boyfriend replied with curt smile letting Levi in.

"Where is she?" the Captain asked quiet stern, as he walked through the living room his hand resting on the sofa you probably used to sit.

"(Y/N)? Running some errands by now, she is always up on her legs. Like the good maid she is." he chuckled and well indeed he had this charm, seeming so nice and polite. All an act just to make people think he would be worth something. The short man sighted running a hand through his hair before his steps stopped. Turning around to the man.

"Errands? To this time? Isn't it a little late for that?" he cocked his head to the side, like if he was testing him. Your boyfriend was lying into his face, like he lied to everyone. It made Levis heart heavy to know that you belonged to this piece of shit. Someone who not even cherished you, who wouldn't give anything to you. Not more than a hit to you, not more than just empty words.

How often had you cried, because of him? How often your pretty eyes turned red? How often did you hid in your bedroom, hoping the next fight would be over. It was nearly like Levi could see all those things happen when he was inside this place.

"Well, yes it is late. But you know her, right? She wants to get things done." the other man meant not giving away anything. Levi groaned before the door was closed from the outside.

"Yeah she wants that, she always does a good job." Levi meant and walked closer to the tall guy who claimed to love you.

"It's not safe at all for a woman like her to wander around alone to this time, don't you think?" his voice cold, not a hint of warmth. God Levi would give everything, everything to protect you. Slowly your boyfriend turned irritated by these questions, the behavior. He furrowed his eyebrows tried to wave this off.   

"Women like her?" he asked Levi with a certain edge in his voice.

"Women like her....soft, and good, make you warm around your heart with a single smile. Make your day better by walking by. The way she pours in tea...with such a determination to make someone happy nearly can be annoying when it wouldn't be so beautiful." Levi mumbled more to himself, when he realized how much you meant to him. How much you affected him.

"You don't deserve her, and you know it don't you?" Levi asked him the direct looking nearly menacing in his face.

"What you are talking about? Sure you are still doing check-ups?" your boyfriend asks and slowly there was this other side getting out, his face turning stern and angry.

"Yeah, check-ups on you. You really thought you hid it well enough?" Levi started and well Levi was shorter yes, but this guy wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"It is not of your concern what is between me and my damn girlfriend." he stated with a low and dangerous voice, all that bubbly and happy side he appeared vanished in this second, it was clear it was never real.

"She is my concern, she was when she started working by us. She hides her bruises well enough, you don't hit her face, I give you that." Levis words meant to provoke, to justify his actions he would take. And Indeed your boyfriend never hit your face, it was always so pretty, and he didn't want to ruin it, but he didn't want anyone to notice what was happening behind closed curtains.

"And? What now? Reporting me to the higher ups? Congratulations Captain, no one cares about a fucking maid." your boyfriend claimed with a cruel chuckle, cracking his knuckles.

"It's already too late for that, when you really think this here has a happy ending for you, than you have not paid enough attention boy." Levi grumbled and then it started...   

That "fight" was short, indeed short, your boyfriend was so fast on the ground with Levis form hanging over him, bashed against the wall. Not more than a howling hound now.

"Please, I never do it again!" that tall guy cried, after he got hit many times in the face. His wrists already broken because of Levi.

"I swear! Stop, please." he begged, begged for his life, never did he thought something like that would happen. That someone would come and actually give him a lesson, but more than that to actually punish him for what he did.

"You didn't stop, when she asked you to." Levi spit out into his face, maybe it was wrong, maybe this was the wrong approach to do it. But man like him would never change, they would find the next victim. You already suffered enough... maybe it would hurt, but this pain, Levi knew he would be able to heal it for you. At least this is what he wanted to try.

With some more action of Levis fists your boyfriend slumped to the ground, alive but barely breathing. He asked himself why someone like Levi came to do justice for you.

"You want her to yourself." he stated with a weak and raspy voice.

"It's not about what I want, but what needs to be done. She suffered in your hands, and this what I gave you was not even the half of everything she went through. How could you hurt her?" Levi asked him grabbing his throat looking him dead in the eyes.

"Because she let me... because she is that pretty bird I wanted to keep in that cage." he answered and maybe your boyfriend was now honest for the first time in his life.

"She is good and you knew that. A shame that a man like you had her, had the chance to love a precious being like her and yet ended up locking her up, cutting off her wings, for what use? Because you felt strong? What a pity you need to be, when you need to hurt others to feel strong? Piece of shit." Levis voice was dangerous sharp like a dagger he meant every word, he was so angry at this guy.

"And now do me a favor and fucking die." was the last Levi said to him before he snapped his neck.... it was done now, he removed the trash.   

Weeks went on after this incident, your boyfriend...he was being missed, his body not found, simply no one expected him to be dead, but he vanished.

You were aware what had happened, even when Levi never told you exactly that he committed murder. It was not like that tit was selfish, but he couldn't watch, couldn't watch how you would always be haunted by the actions of this man. And well...you truly let your happy guard down, behind that a sad girl, a broken one. So much weight on your delicate shoulders, a weight he wanted to lift. Levi would carry every burden, even when you never wanted him to.

He gave you time, not even expecting you to love him, to show him a sign of something, a small glimpse. Everything he wanted was that you felt safe, felt cherished.

Levi was in his office again but when he looked outside the window for just a fleeting moment, his eyes caught your sight.

You stood there in your maid dress you always wore, you finished working. Standing outside and handing out some pastries you bake. Of course Sasha was literally eating out your hand before Connie and Jean could get some. You weren't healed, but you seemed lighter, there was something about you now...something that made him want to believe it was justified what he did. He would give everything to a new sight to drink you in. The woman that was so gentle, yet always ready to give everything she could, just for a smile from another. The Captain found solace in watching you, your features highlighted by the sun. These lips that curled into a warm chuckle. These eyes that always gave away how you felt. At least to those who took a look, a real look.

He would give everything to borrow your indifference to see the world through your eyes.

You two had something together, the world had been unfair to both of you and yet you were able to be like this. Able to give that what Levi couldn't show. Not that these feelings weren't there, he cared a lot, more than he would admit, but you were the part that showed it.

You would complete him.

After you gave the three scouts the pastries you then went inside again, not many moments went over and he heard a knock. "Come on in." he replied with a curt voice. And there you was, none of you talked about the fact he made your boyfriend disappear.

You opened the door, with a tray in your hands, a warm cup of tea, Earl Grey, no sugar with a shot milk. And one of the pastries you bake, glazed with honey and walnuts.

"Before my shift is over I don't wanted you to pass out the chance to get one of those, before Sasha and Connie will kill all the pastries." you spoke with a sweet voice. You still seemed to carry a burden, yet you seemed lighter. You placed the tray on his desk, stood there next to him for a moment. Furthermore, you were thinking. There was this tension, the question if you should ask or not since weeks. The tension wasn't bad at all, but it was palpable. So much Levi felt it too.

"Your shift is already over, I know when it ends, and you worked longer than you have should." Levi pointed out with a short nod to the clock.   

Indeed, your shift would have ended about 45 minutes ago. You wiped your hands on your apron before your face turned to him.

"Yeah maybe it was, but I enjoy being here. It's home now, remember?" you answered and was referring to the fact that he told you, you were home. And it struck his heart for a moment when you said that. You weren't shocked about what he had done? You were sweet and gentle yes, but not oblivious. Likewise, you knew your situation had been bad, probably when Levi wouldn't have noticed, when he wouldn't care you would still be locked away like the bird without wings you were.

Yearning for freedom. You were still learning, learning to fly, learning to take your freedom Levi gave you. You were living in the headquarters now, not that old home that hold so many gruesome memories to you.

He gave back your wings, the feathers slowly grow back, with each passing day.

"(Y/N)... I-" for once Levi wanted to start, wanted to explain why he did it. But you shut him up, with a simple gesture. Shoving the tray closer to him.

"You gave me back, what I wasn't able to get myself. Maybe it was not the perfect way. But...what is even perfect?" you asked instead you looked him deep in the eyes.

A silent understanding. It was a moment that not seemed to went over.

"You are." Levi replied, when he said that your eyes went so soft. It has always been like this, he never expected anything in return for what he did. He yearned for you, for so long, for that understanding and lovely woman you were. The way you made him warm around his heart.

Always feeling so unlucky when you had been taken, by a man who never truly wanted to see you. Because Levi saw everything about you. Every aspect that made you...you.

He lived like he got missing limbs, for you. So often he felt a piece missing. A missing heart next to his.

"Don't say that, Captain." you meant to him before you bend down a little because he was sitting, and you had been standing next to him.

"You said I am home... I want you to say that I feel like you are home too." you spoke before you took a deep breath, leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

The usual stoic Captain, so composed. He felt vurnable for a short moment. Someone who saw behind his exterior, even with the things he has done, and would do again.

"Thank you, Levi. For everything." you whispered wanted to turn awa

[eelnoise]

For the lyric prompt, 'i have my sentence now, at last i know just how you felt, i dig my fingers in, expecting more than just the skin' with Zoro? I don’t have anything specific in mind for this one, so feel free to wing it 😅

confluence

anon your brain has sent me into a frenzy. this fic is absolutely getting another part or 2 at some point because i have some thoughtssssss!!! anyway, hope you enjoy! zoro x gn!reader c/w: fluff!! zoro is injured but what else is new :)

With the most wounded of the crew still out of commission for the time being, the reality is that, for now at least, everyone is okay. They’d come out stronger from worse many times before now, and the reprieve of that alone should be enough for any one soul to rest. 

Though as soon as your tiny frets and forceful bouts of self-reassurance had qualmed enough for you to drift, taking the gentle hand of sleep’s guide and luring you off into an almost peaceful slumber does a swift series of rough knuckles rapping at the door to the tiny room you’d been given and a rumble of your name beyond it.

Your jaw tenses, the ever familiar tone of probably the single worst person to be up and about, and with haste you don’t expect, are you opening the door and looking right up at Roronoa Zoro. “What are you doing?” you lip sluggishly, brows furrowed in a strange expression that lies between annoyance and concern. “You know you need to be resting.”

“Feel fine,” he replies, pushing past you and just… allowing himself into the room. “Just tired.”

You click your teeth, but you just huff and close the door behind him. “At least sit, Zoro.” 

He doesn’t just sit, but lays flat on the bed with a harshness you’re not sure he should be exerting, and you can’t help but to sigh and smile weakly. Zoro looks at peace, both eyes shut as he stretches out his limbs, all but covering the mattress. It’s not often he looks so relaxed

Kneeling next to him, you begin to lovingly run your fingers through his hair, and a warmth floods your chest when he emits a very pleased hum in reply. “How’d you even know which room I was in? You’ve been knocked out cold for the past week.” It isn’t an attack, nor is your tone aggressive at all. If anything, it’s soft. 

He turns his head towards you, gaze locking onto yours as he feels the sensation of your fingers through his hair. There’s something in his eyes, something that speaks volumes about how much he appreciates this moment of intimacy - despite the fact that he usually wouldn’t show such vulnerability. Because even if he wouldn’t admit it, he is anything but ‘fine’.The extent of his wounds were enough to knock a fully grown elephant out for a week, let alone a human man. But what is Zoro if not durable? “Robin,” he answers, a short reply but one that makes sense the more you think about it. 

“Fair,” you concede, leaning your head on the edge of the mattress. “But you didn’t think to ask where your room was instead?” 

“Wanted ta see ya,” Zoro says casually, as if he hadn’t been on the brink of death mere days ago.

The admission hangs in the air between you two, and there’s a hint of guilt in his voice - guilt that he might have caused trouble by simply showing up unannounced like this. But then again, he never did follow social norms too closely in the first place.

He wanted to see you? He wakes up, aching and bruised, serrated with gashes and the first thing he means to do is to see you?

You feel your face flush, and you’re sure it's enough that even the incredibly oblivious swordsman would notice if his eyes were open. 

Zoro lifts his hand and reaches out, grabbing onto yours, holding it tightly as if afraid that if he lets go, you’ll vanish before his very eyes. He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Needed somethin’ real bad.”

There’s no shame or embarrassment in his voice; only raw honesty and desperation. And it’s clear that he meant every word he said - because despite how tough he pretends to be, deep down inside lies someone who craves nothing more than a little bit of affection and care.

"Anything," you reply, eyes fixated upon the man beneath the touch of your fingers. "Anything you need, Zo.”

He takes a deep breath, the grip on your hand easing. "Just... didn’t feel right waking up without ya." It's a simple explanation, but it carries so much weight behind it. Despite being surrounded by people he considers friends and family, there was something missing that only you could fill. And in that moment, as he opens his eye and gazes at you longingly, it becomes clear that Zoro sees you as something more than just another crewmate or ally - you're someone who has the power to make him feel whole once again.

You smile, and when you lean in to press a kiss to his forehead you feel yourself being pulled onto the bed alongside him. The surprise makes you gasp, though once you feel his arms around you and your back against his chest do you hum into him, enjoying the warmth he provides. "Just be careful, okay?" you murmur, snuggling into him carefully. "Don't want you to rip yourself open or anything on my bed."

Zoro chuckles softly, pulling you even closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter. "Trust me," he says with a confident smirk, "I won't rip myself apart."

His body is still recovering from the injuries he sustained while fighting, but he seems determined to push through any pain or discomfort for the sake of being close to you. And as he holds you tightly, it becomes apparent that Zoro sees this moment as a rare opportunity to showcase how much he values your presence in his life - something that goes beyond the usual camaraderie shared among pirates.

In this intimate moment, there's a depth of emotion that transcends words, leaving both of you lost in a sea of feelings and care.

It's soothing, being in his arms. You hadn't realized just how much you missed this. Your relationship with Zoro had become something soft like this, him joining you for rests, naps, and just wanting to be around you. It was something you had to get used to through his emotional misguidance, but when things had become normal you learned just how to be affectionate with him, and now it's something you cherish and love. And though it never went further and mutual sought comfort, and even if you do consider the idea at times, you’re more than happy to lie here with him like this.

Zoro's arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer as he feels the warmth radiating from your body. For a moment, he forgets about everything else - the pain in his side, the lingering exhaustion, even the fact that he's currently lying on top of your bed. All that matters is being near you, feeling your heartbeat against his chest and breathing in the scent of your hair.

As he holds you, memories flash through his mind - moments spent together over the years, from teasing banter to intense battles to quiet moments of respite like these. 

Zoro smiles, and even if you can’t see it, you can feel it. It’s in his very presence around you, his joy, his comfort, his you.

"I missed you," you quietly admit into his arm, and as the words leave you his grip tightens around your waist. And, god, does it feel like home.

"Missed ya too," Zoro replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "Feels good to be back with ya."

He doesn't say anything more, but the sincerity in his tone speaks volumes. Even after everything they've been through together - the fights, the arguments, the misunderstandings - Zoro still finds solace in your presence, and he cherishes each moment he gets to spend with you.

And as you lay there together, wrapped in each other's arms, it becomes clear that your relationship has evolved into something far deeper than either of you ever expected. While neither of you may have explicitly admitted your feelings for the other, there's an undeniable connection that runs through every touch and every word exchanged between you two - a leash upon your hearts that defies definition yet remains stronger than steel.

Zoro closes his eyes, letting the warmth of your body envelop him as he slips into a peaceful slumber. His mind is filled with images of you - your smile, your laugh, your gentle touch. In this moment of relaxation, all thoughts of pain and exhaustion fade away, replaced instead by a sense of contentment and satisfaction.  

For a brief instant, he feels like he's found what he's been searching for - a true sense of belonging and purpose within the chaos of the world. And even as sleep claims him, he clings tightly to the memory of your embrace, knowing that it will serve as a source of strength and motivation as he continues on his journey towards becoming the world's greatest swordsman.

You both drift off, falling deep into the exact respite that you had sought prior to his inclusion.

And it’s perfect. 

—

You wake up slowly and twist around with care, taking in the sight of Zoro's face as he sleeps beside you. His features look so calm and peaceful, and you can't help but wonder if he's having pleasant dreams. Reaching out, you brush some strands of hair away from his face, stirring him from his slumber. "Did you sleep well, Zo? Good dreams?” you query as his tired gaze meets yours.

Zoro's eye flutters open, and he smiles weakly upon seeing you sitting up. "Yeah," he replies, his voice still slightly groggy. "You were in them."

The admission catches you off guard, but you can see genuine sincerity in his expression - a reflection of the depth of feelings he harbors for you despite not expressing them outright. "Thanks for bein’ here," he adds, offering a small nod of gratitude. "Makes everythin’ seem better."

You feel your face flush, his admission not just flattering you but truly moving you. Was it due to his most recent near-death experience that makes him fawn over you so? Whatever it may be, you smile and lean down to kiss his forehead - but you're taken by surprise when you're maneuvered downward until his lips press into yours in a bit of a forceful, inexperienced kiss, but one you reciprocate in earnest.

The kiss takes you both by surprise, but as it deepens, you can feel the passion and intensity that lies beneath Zoro's inexperience. He's always been fiercely protective of you, but now it seems like he wants to claim you in a way that goes beyond mere protection - to show everyone that you belong to him and only him.

Despite your initial shock, you find yourself responding to his kiss with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer as your hearts race and your bodies heat up. This unexpected moment of heightened  intimacy feels both thrilling and terrifying, like stepping off a cliff into the unknown.

Zoro's kiss is messy, but it's full of meaning. Words he cannot say aloud are spoken though each smack of your lips and hums of joy, and as his hand finds its way to your neck to press you closer to him, you find yourself melting into his palm.

Zoro's emotions spill out through his actions - the desperate need to hold onto you, the desire to mark you as his own, the raw passion that burns within him. It's a declaration of sorts, one that speaks volumes about how deeply he feels for you even without using words.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there's also a vulnerability to it that reveals just how much Zoro craves your affection and approval. He wants nothing more than to make you happy, to know that you feel the same way about him, and as he breaks away from the kiss with a ragged breath, he looks at you with a pleading expression that seems to say, "Was that okay?”

You nod, eyes heavy lidded and lips glossed with saliva and puffy with love. And it seems as if that’s all it takes for him to continue, as at once is Zoro upon you again, this time with a little more ease. You sigh into him when his hands reach your hips, it feels so right and so good, like a long awaited tether tying you both into a knot. You want to kiss away his pain and discomfort, to hold him to you until he's healed and whole. To be his anchor and his safe haven. To just be his.

Zoro's hands grip onto your hips tightly, holding onto you like a lifeline as he pulls himself closer, seeking comfort in the warmth and safety of your embrace. He feels like he can finally let go of all the pent-up emotions and anxieties that have been weighing him down since the battle - and in that moment of release, he feels a profound sense of relief wash over him.

As he leans against you, he closes his eyes once again, savoring the feeling of being held so closely by someone who means so much to him. It's a moment of pure bliss, one that makes all the hardships and struggles worthwhile, and he knows that he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

[stevesbestgirl]

Phases of the Moon - Part 3

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

4747 words

Warnings: minor angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, chances of a few minor swears, miscommunication

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

Steven sent you his schedule for the next week on Sunday, “We can start the north wing this week, if you like.” He was a bit nervous about it- after what Donna had said.

You wanted to see him again; you were still happy to be friends with Steven. But you hadn’t replied yet- you needed a bit more space than you’d originally thought in order to get over this crush.

Steven was working Tuesday again and even though you hadn’t responded to his message, he’d still hoped you would show up. But his break came and went and he started to worry that Marc had been right. Maybe he had blown it. He’d must’ve done something on Saturday that made you decide not to come back. He knew he could be a bit oblivious, but he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

Come Wednesday, he spent far too much time agonizing over whether he should call you. He was up so late, he overslept Thursday morning. It was strangely nostalgic of his life before he’d known about Marc, but the charm quickly wore off when Donna got on his case. Not that she ever needed a reason, but she seemed pleased to have an excuse to torment him.

In fact, she must have enjoyed reaming him so much that morning that she returned in the afternoon. He did his best to appear busy as she marched up to the counter, her phone clutched in her hand, “I suppose you and your girlfriend think you’re being rather cute, don’t you?” Her tone was more derisive than downright angry.

“Sorry, what are you on about?”

“Like you haven’t seen this?” Donna brandished her phone. Steven tried to get a look, but only caught a glimpse of the some website before she huffed and pulled it back around, reading aloud, “Received a tour today from the gift shoppist, Steven Grant. Steven’s knowledge of Egypt is only surpassed by his enthusiasm for it, which makes this museum patron pity the museum management who waste his talents for touring in the gift shop. So-” 

Steven didn’t realize he was smiling until Donna looked up from her screen, “Oh- don’t look so pleased. Your girlfriend can write all the reviews she likes, but it won’t convince me to make you a guide.”

“There’s more?”

“Like I’m going to continue stroking your ego or whatever,” Donna wrinkled her nose. “Just get back to work. At the counter.”

As soon as Donna disappeared from sight, Steven had his own phone out, not bothering to hide it from the customer that had just walked over to browse. He scanned the site until he found it- your review. 

He read aloud, beginning hushed and growing louder as he went, “So, I will most definitely be returning for the rest of the tour in hopes that others might share in the experience. As lucky as I’ve been to enjoy a private tour, it would be selfish to keep Steven a secret.”

Steven’s chest felt light, “Did you hear that, mate?” The young man clutching a plastic pyramid looked around, confused, but Steven didn’t wait for a response, “I think she likes me. Or she did like me. Bloody hell, I’ve gotta call her- I’ve gotta call her right now.”

He pulled out his phone and faltered, “Wait, but-” his finger hovered over your contact, “If she liked me enough to leave that review, why hasn’t she replied to my message?”

The customer gave a weak shrug, hesitantly setting the pyramid on the counter. Steven seemed to only notice him just then, “Right, of course, let me get that for you.” He cashed him out and once he was out of sight, he continued staring at his phone. He’d texted you Sunday; this was the fifth day with no response. What if you’d changed your mind?

“Steven, just call her.” Marc sounded exasperated, watching on from the mirror behind the counter.

Steven glanced at the mirror, looking stricken, “What if she doesn’t like me anymore? That’s why she hasn’t answered.”

Steven was putting the phone away, moaning under his breath about how he’d blown this. Marc knew he could front, call you himself, but that kind of defeated the purpose. This was Steven’s show to run.

Steven pressed his palms into the wood, “Alright, get a grip on yourself, mate. C’mon.” 

His halfhearted attempt at a pep talk stuttered to a halt when he glanced up, seeing you walk in. You were dressed casually today, wearing a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt with planets on it. Not that it made any difference to Steven; he thought you looked lovely in whatever you wore. 

“Marc, she’s really here right, I’m not just mad, am I?”

“Two things can be true,” Marc quipped, falling silent as you approached.

*

You tried not to look too much at Steven as you approached the gift shop; you needed to keep yourself in check today. No flirting, no admiring, and definitely no pining. Steven was your friend, that was all.

“You came back.” Now your eyes were drawn to Steven as he spoke, sounding like he’d seen some kind of angel instead of just you, torturing yourself.

“Of course I came back, I need the rest of the tour, right?” You smiled; that wasn’t flirting, right?

“I didn’t hear from you, so I thought you might have gotten tired of hearing me talk,” he chuckled weakly. 

You breathed a sigh of relief; at least it didn’t sound like he’d seen your review. He deserved it and you hoped he might read it someday, but it was easier this way. It gave you time to quash the little ache in your chest at the sight of him.

“I’m sorry about that, my cousin’s been dragging me off to visit family all week, so I’ve been a bit scattered.” Lying to Steven didn’t feel very good. “But I’ll always come back for a tour; you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Steven couldn’t figure out what you were thinking. You were being perfectly pleasant to him- it didn’t seem like you were upset. But you’d withdrawn from him; you weren’t being as playful- as open with him as you’d been before. You were being polite. Distant.

He tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat, “Does that mean you want to start the north wing today?”

“If you’ve got time for me- if not, that's completely alright, I should have told you I was coming-”

He nodded furiously, “Course I do; always got time for you, don’t I love?”

You tried to keep your expression even; why was this so hard? Why did he have to be so sweet and charming and positively dense? “Thanks.”

There was a beat of silence before Steven clapped his hands together, “Well, let’s get started then.” 

Things were awkward. And it was your fault. But you couldn’t let yourself be sucked back into that magnetic field of Steven’s warm personality. It would make this- being friends- impossible. You were probably giving him a weird vibe. And maybe he was mad at you for ignoring him. Most people would be; you might’ve been if you were in his position.

But he didn’t give up on you, that was for certain. He still spoke to you with the same enthusiasm as before. You wondered if he even had it in him to be mean to someone; it seemed doubtful. 

It felt like if you tried hard enough, you could envision the little bubble of radiant energy that emanated from Steven, with you standing just outside. He was trying extra hard to make you smile, it seemed, adding little jokes to his explanations. You couldn’t help yourself, lips turning up as he asked you, “Why didn’t Cleopatra go to the psychiatrist?”

“Why?”

“She was the Queen of Denial.” He rocked on his heels and did a “buh dum tss” motion with his hands, a goofy smile on his face.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, “That was absolutely awful, Steven. How long have you had that abomination in your pocket?”

He seemed rather relieved to see the hint of your usual self and suddenly it felt the same as it had before. You were back to making your little quips and teasing him again. He realized he’d missed hearing your laugh. 

He kept moving, beaming as you continued to complain about the bad jokes. He’d been scolded an awful lot of times in his life, but he never liked it so much before you did it. The way you’d roll your eyes at him, but then you’d smile; it made his stomach drop. 

Glancing at his watch, his stomach dropped again, but not in as pleasant a way, “Oh bollocks, I’m late getting back again.” He hadn’t thought you were coming today so he hadn’t set an alarm.

This time Steven pulled you by the hand back toward the gift shop. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” you huffed, trying to keep up with him and ignore the way he was clutching your hand.

“Sorry, I’m a bit hopeless I’m afraid,” he grimaced as he hurried around a corner, only to stumble to a halt as he caught sight of Donna over by the front desk with JB. He ducked back behind the wall, pulling you back with him. Surprised by his sudden change in direction, you stumbled.

In a moment of rare coordination, Steven kept you upright by your hand, pulling you back in and catching you in his other arm. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, pressed to his chest by his arm around your back. 

“Careful,” he breathed, speaking so low that his accent was barely audible.

You peered out, comprehension dawning on your face. That is, until you inhaled, the scent of whatever kind of soap Steven used filling your senses. You were far too close- this was not good. It felt like you were short-circuiting, staring up at him with your mouth half-open like a deer in headlights. Two minutes ago, you were thinking that maybe you could pull off this whole friend deal and now you were struggling to form even a single word because proximity to Steven was intoxicating.

“Sorry to surprise you,” he whispered again, only now beginning to blush. 

“You’re- uh- it’s fine. Fine,” you managed to get out. You peeked around the corner again, “I think you’re safe now.” 

You took a hasty step backwards and now Steven looked flustered, “Right. Better get back then and hope she hasn’t gone to check on me.”

You nodded, following him back the rest of the way to the gift shop, relieved to see Donna wasn’t poking around. You leaned against the counter, hoping your face wasn’t flushed, although you supposed you could blame it on all the rushing around, “Sorry.”

His brow furrowed slightly, “What are you sorry for?”

You gave him a wry smile, “Seems like I keep getting you into messy situations. I’d hate for you to get into real trouble.”

“I’ve been in real trouble before, you don’t need to worry.” He chuckled and you almost felt like you were being left out of a joke. But he smiled at you, “But just to be safe, when will you be back? So I can set another alarm. Just in case you get busy again, you know.” You weren’t prepared for Steven to tease you; you suddenly felt a bit warm.

You turned away, absently examining a stuffed mummy off one of the racks, “When do you have time?”

“I’m working the morning shift tomorrow; if you came by around two, we could do like we did on Saturday,” he offered.

“You don’t mind staying late after a real shift?” You smiled; teasing him wasn’t flirting. And he was doing it to you too. 

“I told you, love, I’ve always got time for you.” It was like he wanted you to suffer.

You chuckled weakly, “And you’re sure you haven’t gotten yourself punished with inventory again this week?” 

“I haven’t been punished quite yet, although that might change now that Donna’s read your review,” Steven smiled. “She was a bit steamed about it this morning.” You tried to smile back, but your mouth was suddenly dry. Steven tilted his head, “You alright?”

You prayed your cheeks didn’t give you away even as you could feel the warmth creeping through them, “Sorry, yeah. I didn’t, um, realize you’d seen that. It’s a bit embarrassing.” 

“Why’s it embarrassing?” That little furrow between his brows returned and you wanted to shout the answer at him; it felt like it was so obvious and it was somehow more humiliating that he hadn’t picked up on it.

“You didn’t think it was-” you bit your lip, searching for the most diplomatic way to put it, “A bit much?”

Steven’s lips parted in understanding, but his brow remained furrowed, “A bit more than I deserve, maybe, but I thought it was lovely. No one’s ever said something so nice about me- not that I can remember anyways.” 

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him that he deserved to hear so much more than that; Steven was oblivious, but not that oblivious. At least you didn’t think so. “Well, I’m glad I posted it then. Especially if Donna wasn’t happy,” you smiled.

“She read about half of it to me and it was quite satisfying, if I can be honest,” Steven grinned guiltily.

“Did she see any of the others?”

“The others?” Steven cocked his head. “Did you leave more than one?”

You shook your head, “No, the other people who have been listening to your tour did.” He stared at you like he didn’t understand, so you smiled, chagrined, “Okay, so maybe I mentioned it to a few of them when that little boy was asking you if he could draw on the walls like in the displays.”

You gestured for him to check his phone and Steven was quiet for a long moment, just scrolling through and seeing his name before speaking softly, a small smile on his face, “No wonder Donna was so short with me this morning.” 

“And you still didn’t get inventory? You must be having a good day.”

Steven remembered how nervous he’d been this morning, thinking that you didn’t want to see him anymore. You’d pulled away from him and he wasn’t sure why. But all of those worries had dissolved into nothing when he’d heard you laugh. And he’d gotten to hold you close, albeit because of Marc’s split second of intervention. And you were coming back to see him again tomorrow.

The corners of his lips tugged up, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” you patted the counter. “See you tomorrow at two then?”

He nodded,  “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Once you were out of sight, Marc spoke up, “No one’s ever said anything that nice to you, huh?”

Steven rolled his eyes at the gift shop mirror, “I was excluding people I share a body with.”

“Oh, well you should have said so-”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to mention that to her next time, won’t I?”

Mark’s retort was cut short by the clack of Donna’s shoes on the polished floor. “Stevie, glad to see you’re back at your post,” she mused, sarcasm evident. He opened his mouth to protest, but she tapped her watch, “I came by at three seventeen and where were you? Not here, that’s for sure. Off with your little girlfriend again? You know what I’m gonna say.”

“Donna, no- I’ll stay late tonight to make it up-”

“What good does that do me? No. You’re in the back tomorrow.”

“I can’t work late tomorrow, I’ve got a date.” He was going to ask you to dinner after the tour was finished.

“Well I imagine you don’t anymore, do you?”

“I can’t cancel, Donna, I’ll do the next two Fridays instead.” Steven hated that he had to plead with Donna; he usually just put his head down and took it, but he couldn’t cancel on you. He couldn’t risk messing this up again. 

Donna gave her head a derisive toss, “Well, guess you should have thought of that before you took an extra long break, yeah?” And she clacked away, taking Steven’s good mood with her.

Steven shook his head insistently, “I can’t- I can’t cancel on her.” But still, he took out his phone, sending you a text, “Spoke too soon on inventory, I’m afraid.”

You were already on the bus, on your way home, so you replied quickly, “Oh no. Was it because of the reviews?”

“No, completely unrelated.” Steven wasn’t going to tell you that it was because he’d gone over on his break either. He didn’t want you to feel guilty about coming around to visit him.

“Well, I’m still sorry- I’m sure it wasn’t justified. We can reschedule, no big deal.” 

“We could still get dinner after I’m off at eight, if you like?”

Last week you would have been overjoyed at the offer, but now you felt strange. You wanted to go, but you had a feeling it might be bad for you in the long term. You were already pushing your luck as it was. 

“I’m sorry, Steven. I’ve actually already got plans for dinner tomorrow.” It was difficult to type and even more difficult to actually send it; you hated lying to Steven.

“Right, of course. I’ll let you know my schedule tomorrow. We can choose another day.” He felt a bit of panic; what if you had a date with someone else?

“Looking forward to it.” You sent a follow-up message, “Don’t forget to read those other reviews. Hope they cheer you up a bit.” 

Steven sighed at his phone. So much for his good day. Although, thinking about the nice things you’d said about him, the way you’d looked at him when he’d held you close- maybe it was still alright. He returned to the website, searching more thoroughly this time. 

There were a handful of others, the most recent from barely twenty minutes ago. He wasn’t even sure when you’d found time to speak to anyone today, but somehow, you had. And they were all lovely. He felt his face flush at the idea of all of those people saying nice things about him. One in particular caught his eye, though not because of what it said about him.

In the very last paragraph, it read, “Steven, if you’re reading this, you’re a lucky man. Hold onto her. -Dorothy.” She signed her name on the review like it was a letter. Steven remembered the older woman who’d been trailing after you during his tour; he’d slowed down a bit that day so she could keep up.

“Well Dorothy, I gotta get my arms around her to hold on, don’t I?” he murmured sardonically. 

Come Friday, Steven started his shift feeling a bit downcast. He should be walking around the museum with you right now- making you laugh, finding a way to hold your hand again. Instead, he cursed Donna under his breath and clocked in. He was pleased to find out from the first shift at the gift shop that she’d left for the day; at least he wouldn’t have to listen to her complaints today.

Around four, Steven’s heart leapt as your name popped up on his phone, “How’s the inventory going?” 

“I’ve not started yet. Manning the counter until 7 and then inventory after close.”

“I could call Donna and try to order a pizza if it’ll make you feel better.”

Steven chuckled, “Afraid she’s ducked out early today.”

“That’s hypocritical.”

Steven hit a bit of a busy spurt in the gift shop; it was Friday, which meant that the kids in the after-school programs were extra rowdy. They needed to touch absolutely everything, but rarely had the pocket money to buy anything. So he spent a great deal of his afternoon fixing the displays, his phone still hastily stuffed in his pocket.

Meanwhile, you were deciding where to order pizza from. If Donna wasn’t in, you could afford to brighten Steven’s day a bit. Especially since you still had a sneaking suspicion that he was working late because of you.

He’d told you about JB’s negligence; you waltzed right through the lobby at quarter to seven with a pizza box in your hand and he didn’t even look up from his phone. Pausing at the entrance to the gift shop, you watched Steven for a second. He was typing something on his phone, only to shake his head and mutter something before deleting and typing again. He repeated this process twice before tucking his phone away and moments later, your own phone chimed in your pocket.

Steven’s head snapped up from the plushes he was sorting and you lifted the pizza box, “I really wanted to order that pizza.”

A slow smile spread over his face, “Are you having a laugh? You’ve actually brought pizza into the museum?”

You shrugged, “You told me JB wasn’t the best security guard.”

“Actually I said he was bloody awful, but you’re much sweeter than I am,” Steven chuckled. 

You set the box on the counter, “If we want to eat before I get busted with this, we’d better get going.” Noting his hesitation, you added, “It’s vegan cheese. Don't worry."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. He'd only mentioned it offhand, but of course you were listening. You always listened- you made him feel like the most interesting person in the world, even if no one else but you cared. He followed your lead, taking a slice of the still warm pie, “Thanks- for this. I’ll admit, I was having a bit of a shit day-” he caught himself, “Sorry-”

“Steven Grant, did you just curse?” The little bubble of laughter that left you was pure delight.

His face went hot, “Yeah, sorry, slipped out I guess.”

“No, I love it,” you grinned. “I wanna hear more Steven curses.”

“You want me to- curse?”

You nodded, laughing again, “Let them all loose- all the curse words you know, right now.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” he chuckled weakly, half-tempted to comply, if only to see the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed. “After all, you’ve gotta earn a true curse.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you conceded.

He smiled, tentatively checking his watch; he didn’t want you to go. He was about to invite you to stay while he did inventory- he could tuck you in the back until JB had done his walkthrough, but then he remembered that you were supposed to be busy tonight.

His brow furrowed, “Did your dinner plans fall through?”

He seemed so genuinely concerned, you crumbled immediately, “That was a bit of a fib actually,”

Watching his expression fall made your heart ache, “So you didn’t have dinner plans tonight?”

You chewed your lip, suddenly nervous, as you shook your head, “I thought maybe we shouldn’t get dinner- together, you know. It would’ve felt like a date and you made your position on that clear, so I-”

“Oi, what the- You can’t bring food in here!” JB had started his rounds early, likely eager to get out of work on a Friday night.  

You jumped whipping around, “Right, sorry about that. Wrong address.”

JB grabbed the pizza box from the counter and shoved it into your hands, giving you a firm push toward the exit, “We’re closing up anyway, get moving along.”

Steven felt a flash of anger that was unusual for him, “Hang on now, no need to be so rough.” And he wasn’t finished talking to you; what had you meant about his “position?”

“Stand back now, Scotty, let me do my job, yeah?” He pressed a hand to Steven’s chest and Steven felt the irrational urge to grab his fingers and twist. 

“You don’t need to touch her- she wasn’t hurting anything!” 

“Look mate, it’s Friday, I wanna get out of here, alright?”

Steven pulled JB’s hand from his chest, glaring at him as he dropped the closed sign down on the counter with a loud clatter, “What’s stopping you then? It’s closing time.”

 JB glanced off in the direction you’d gone, muttering something under his breath before moving on. 

Steven wanted to follow you- to chase after you and talk more, but he was on thin ice as it was. He’d been lucky to get his museum position back at all, after everything, and if JB was feeling cross with him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he reported back to Donna. And he was always on thin ice with her. So he stayed where he was. But once he was sure JB was out of earshot, he pulled his phone out.

You hesitated a second before picking up; you were just out front. You’d needed to stop and take a moment to admonish yourself for blurting so much out; you’d been so swept up in doing something nice for Steven that you’d forgotten about the lie you’d told him. When he’d brought it up, you’d panicked.

“Hello.” You grimaced at the forced normalcy in your tone. 

“Are you alright, love? He shouldn’t’ve pushed you like that and I’ll be sure to have a word with-” there was a pause as he considered who’d he’d be chatting with, “-someone, about this on Monday.” You’d never heard Steven so riled before.

“I’m fine, Steven. No need to get all worked up, alright?” You were hoping- praying even, that Steven had only called to check on you. But that hope was short-lived.

“Yeah, you’re right, I know. I just-” he took a deep breath, “Right. I’m good- I’m aces. Very calm.” There was a pause, then he cleared his throat, “What did you mean, back in there?”

You played dumb, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said you didn’t think we should get dinner because it would feel like a date.”

“Right, that,” you acknowledged.

“Then you said that I’d made my position on that clear. But the thing is, I don’t remember that. And sometimes I forget things, but I don’t think I’d forget that, you know?”

“Steven, we don’t have to-”

“If I said something, I want- no, I need to know what it was. Please tell me.”

“Right.” You sighed, “Last Saturday, you mentioned that you’d told me you were working because otherwise it would have seemed like it was a date.” 

“It wasn’t, was it?” To Steven, giving you a tour wasn’t a date. Not a proper one, like you deserved. But he did remember saying that and now that he recalled the memory, he remembered the way you’d faltered in the conversation. And you’d worn that dress.

And suddenly it all made sense. The long silence in your absence, the way you’d been reserved when you came back; he’d hurt you. And you’d still left him that lovely review. You’d still come to see him again. You’d brought him dinner at work just to toe the line he’d accidentally drawn in the sand. 

“No, of course not, you said so yourself,” you agreed quickly. “Sorry Steven, I’m getting on the bus, so I’ve got to go.”

“W-wait-”

“I’ll see you again soon, alright Steven?” And then you were gone. 

If he could have made it down the street to the bus stop before they pulled away, he would have made a run for it. But he heard the familiar hiss of the brakes just before you hung up, dropping his phone onto the counter and fisting his hair. 

“God, I’m such an idiot!” He raised his hand in a mock toast, “Cheers to Steven, the biggest knob on the whole bloody island.”

“Statistically, probably not the biggest.” 

Steven glared at his reflection in the mirror at the back of the counter, “Not helpful, Marc.”

“I wasn’t trying to be helpful.”

“Great. Thank you for that. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” He began working on the inventory, but the real work was brainstorming how he could make this up to you. You deserved something special- something that would make it obvious how he felt about you. 

[kissyghosty]

i know this has probably been done before but. here's my little take on a soapghost wingies au hehe

-

Ghost would have more raven-like wings: sleek and shear. However, they're in very rough shape. There's many feathers missing and the remaining ones are very worse for wear. He doesn't let people see them and likes to forget they're there at all. if someone were to stop and look at him, they'd notice that notice a blue sheen to them in the light, but few are able to see them beyond "plain and black" in the rare chance they're exposed.

ghost prefers to keep his wings tucked away behind/inside clothing. very much a "if i can't see it, it doesn't exist" mentality. a lot of people doubt he even has them at all. he has a horrible habit of plucking feathers when stressed but manages to hide them in disposal bins so no one is aware.

Soap has wings like a Red-Winged blackbird: they're very shiny and bright! he loves showing them off because yeah. he will purposefully flap them in peoples' spaces/faces to irritate them. theyre bright and colorful like he is :]

as for little silly habits!! i like to think there's some sort of lil display of affection/trust in giving shed feathers to people the person cares about a lot. so soap does that to ghost a lot. ghost may be oblivious to what it means--he might even take it the wrong way at first, seeing it as soap showing off

ghost would wrap himself in his wings [while alone] as a sort of comfort tactic. he hates them, he really does, but it's something he can't fight when he's mentally exhausted.

for some, preening is a huge matter of trust. ghost falls in this category, to the point where he hasn't let anyone help him shed feathers in many years. instead, he harshly drags his fingers through his feathers to get rid of old ones.

soap lets others in the 141 preen his wings, as he trusts them. his go-to is gaz [very thorough and efficient, doesn't mind being slapped in the face once or twice, and good company]. as he works his way up the trust ladder with ghost, he does preening for ghost. ghost is worried he's gonna be horrible at it and accidentally hurt soap so he's hesitant to for a while. eventually, he warms up to it and he ends up being very gentle and considerate.

once soap and ghost are close, soap will drape his wing[s] over ghost while sitting next to him or laying next to him. ghost about cries on the spot.

ummm that's it for now i can add on later lol. just brainrot

[deityoftherain]

Traffic Life Superpowers AU - Etho/Joel/Lizzie

I have a superpowers au (look at the link above for the full au) and jizztho is a ship within it! They are heroes and they are in a polyam marriage. The fic they are featured in is called honeybees, I'm home, but here's the summary/fic on Tumblr if you don't want to jump to AO3 quite yet. Look under the cut for their powers!

Etho Honeybee (They/Them) Alter Ego: Slab Status: Human Hero Power(s): Etho has tough, jagged teeth despite being otherwise human (assumed to be a gene passed down that was finally showing itself), a freakishly long tongue (think Hero Killer from MHA or Valentino from Hazbin Hotel), and intoxicating spit. The intoxication’s effects differ greatly but they range from making the victim unreasonably happy to drunk to poisoned. The longer the victim is exposed to the intoxication, the greater the effect and duration it has. Safe to say, Etho doesn’t use it often and they wear a mask to avoid spitting while they speak, which was a thing they did as a small child before they started wearing a mask and grew out of it. When they do use it, it is usually in the form of vials they have spit in previously and had tested by the lab. Etho tends to fight with various martial arts and fighting moves they have picked up over the years.

Fun Fact: The reasoning behind their powers is that I like giving things in canon a reason behind them! Since they always wear a mask, I wanted to give them funky mouth stuff so they ended up with jagged teeth, a long tongue, and spit that drugs people. I imagine they would want to stay somewhat discreet and better blend in compared to the other herbs (making villains not notice them as much) so they have a simple alter ego name.

Joel Honeybee (He/Him) Alter Ego: Helter Skelter (Hel Skel) Status: Bug Hybrid Hero Power(s): Joel is a bug hybrid and no one knows which one. His whole family line has had bug traits in it and they’ve given up on trying to figure out which bug it is. Bug families are just too similar, and his relatives often joke that they’ve probably created their own bug-like species at this point. Anyway, his bug traits manifest predominantly in green antennas and inhuman skin. The antennas can detect various odors in the air, making him fairly good at pinpointing smells and tracking things, though it can take some time. A fault is he often focuses on one specific smell or is so used to tuning it out that he becomes oblivious to things he probably should have detected sooner/but didn't. In addition, Joel’s skin is an alternate version of an exoskeleton. It is essentially hardened skin that is resistant to damage. When he experiences a excess amount of damage, his skin starts to molt off and he has to wait for the ‘exoskeleton’ to fully harden back up. This process takes four to seven days, depending on the damage, Joel’s diet, Joel’s energy levels, and etc. (It is jokingly referred to as Joel’s period by me and others, specifically his spouses, in the story.)

Fun Fact: Helter Skelter is an overly extra name, but I think it fits Joel well (plus it is a reference to SL) because look at this man! I love him so much. Anyway, I pulled his abilities from the antennas he's often drawn with because of Shrek past. He deserves to be a little bug boy!

Lizzie Honeybee (She/Her) Alter Ego: Shadowlady Status: Fairy Hero Power(s): Lizzie has beautiful, pink and silver wings and she can shrink to be about six inches tall (~15.24 cm). She can not morph herself into any other size though; it’s either her usual height or her little fairy height. She can also hide and swim in shadows, making her a great “fly (fairy) on the wall”. I might add more shadowy powers in the future, but I'm not sure which ones soooo :D

Fun Fact: I love it when people draw Lizzie with fairy wings because of the Fairy Fort in LL so, of course, I made her a fairy! Shadowlady is an obvious reference to her username. I try to not make their last names (Honeybee is a reference to Lizzie's SL; Joel and Etho took Lizzie's last name) an indication of their powers because that's boring, so hero name gets it instead! Lizzie is also an example of someone whose abilities aren't necessarily tied to her hybrid status. Hybrids are simply humans who have traits associated with other creatures, but they are technically abilities in a way? People can have multiple or similar but still distinct abilities at one time. Some people have really straightforward ones and others have more complex ones. It depends on how their genes mutated and decided to present in the specific person.

[shadowqueenjude]

Lucien finally loses it and does something bat shit crazy part 3

“Only a Vanserra could outsmart a Vanserra.”

Lucien starts to execute his evil plan! *me cackling* Lucien stood before the shadowsinger and pretended not to notice the slight intertwining of Elain’s scent with him. Lucien knew the male hadn’t touched Elain intimately in any way, but he knew the bathole was crushing on her. From what he could see, it wasn’t entirely one-sided. Did the dumbasses really think he was so oblivious? He had earned the fox's reputation for a reason.

He resisted the urge to grind Azriel’s teeth to dust. Now was not the time to pick a fight. Even as the mating bond chanted, Now is very much the time for a fight. Crush him. Melt his bones. Destroy him for daring to lay a hand on your mate. He tried to take what is yours. Kill him. Make him suffer.

Shut up bond, he said silently. I have higher ambitions than the dog. I’ll topple the whole operation.

“Things have gotten worse since your magnanimous High Lord decided to kick a downed male. I’m trying to keep things more or less operational, but… the place is extremely vulnerable. Tamlin spends half his time as a beast these days. At this rate, the human lands will put up a better fight than him.” Lucien’s mouth tightened at the state of his home. It hurt-badly. “The human lands are great. Jurian and Vassa have done an incredible job corralling everyone. No sign of the other queens. But Briallyn is surely planning something; Eris visited, and I’m almost certain she is behind the disappearance of his troops. She has some kind of dark magic on her side, though I’m uncertain of its nature. Koschei’s threat looms nearer as well. I suspect Vassa only has a few months before he comes for her.” Lucien would find a way to save her. He wasn’t about to lose anybody else, much less to a loser lake monster.

Azriel nodded seriously, eyes intensely focused on his every word. Lucien might have found it unnerving if circumstances hadn’t taught him to survive and adapt. He didn’t like it though.

He still cringed when he remembered the insanely awkward flight where Azriel had been forced to carry him. He had been surprised that Azriel could even carry him; Azriel was strong, but Lucien was bulkier. And taller. Azriel was all lean muscle. He supposed it must be something in that Illyrian diet, for his strength hadn’t wavered even for a moment. Even as they had determinedly avoided each other’s eyes.

His flight with Cassian had only been slightly less awkward. Cassian was bigger than Lucien; he was obviously the muscle of the group. It hadn’t been difficult to figure out the dynamic between the members of the IC. Cassian and Mor clearly had something ages ago, but Azriel was into Mor which forced Cassian to act as the middleman. Which was ironic to Lucien because as far as he could tell, Cassian was terrible at all things diplomatic. Lucien despised his family, but he still laughed his ass off at the thought of Eris going face-to-face with this guy. Eris would absolutely cream Cassian and spread his ego on his breakfast and eat it along with a fine glass of faerie wine. Beron would bury him and keep his bat wings as a souvenir. Only a Vanserra could outsmart a Vanserra. Even if Lucien had rejected his heritage, that statement still held true.

“Is that all?” Azriel asked quietly. Lucien brought his focus back to the present. “Yes. How is…she?”

He knew the shadowsinger would know exactly who he meant.

“She is alright,” Azriel said quietly. “She spends most of her time gardening or baking with Nuala and Cerridwen.”

Lucien took a deep breath and nodded. Even if she wouldn’t let him check on her, he had to know that she was ok. Physically and mentally. He wished she would deign to have a true conversation with him, but for now, knowing she was doing well was enough.

Azriel disappeared into the shadows. Lucien took another deep breath. Now to implement his plan.

“Come in,” came a cool female voice.

Lucien walked into the apartment of Nesta Archeron. By the Cauldron, this place was a dump. Seeing this place made Lucien want to take a long, hot shower and buy new clothes untainted by the stink of this flat. But he managed not to cringe at the smell and followed Nesta to the tiny kitchen. Lucien couldn’t blame Nesta for opting to live in the slums as opposed to the finery of the palaces Rhysand owned. He, too, couldn’t bear to accept the charity from them. He was a male of pride and honor, and it seemed as if Nesta was the same. He supposed he may have misjudged the eldest Archeron sister. To be honest, his impression of her was mainly based off of what others had told him, and his own irritation that she kept shoving him away from Elain. But fine, he could understand why she had been so overprotective. He was some Fae guy, and she had grown up on stories spreading how horrible they were.

“We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings—”

Lucien remembered he had said that to Feyre the first time they met. That felt so long ago.

“What do you want,” Nesta said flatly. The scent of her arousal was intertwined with the scent of an unknown male. She was in a long white shirt that certainly didn’t belong to her.

Lucien smiled in spite of himself. “If I said you, would you kick me out?”

Nesta just glared at him. The look in her eyes reminded him so much of…

“I don’t know why Feyre hates you. You’re so much alike.”

Nesta scowled. “Don’t talk about her.”

Lucien put his hands up. “Ok. No sisterly talk. Pinky promise.”

Nesta glared a moment longer, then sighed. “What brought you to the slums to talk to your friend’s bitchy sister?”

“I don’t think you’re bitchy.”

Nesta scoffed. “Then you’re delusional.”

“I just think you’re hurting. You were thrown into the Cauldron. You may have hated him, but it can’t have been easy to watch your father die in front of your eyes.” Lucien’s eyes teared up. “I know it was unbearable when my Jesminda died before me, and I was helpless to stop it. I’ve never forgotten the moment when I heard her heart stop beating.”

He rarely spoke of that moment. It was unbearable, even now, to speak of it. But Nesta was one of the few people who would be able to understand his pain.

Nesta paused. Then said, “I can’t take baths, because it makes me feel like I’m drowning in that Cauldron again. I use buckets and wipes instead. The crackling of logs…it’s unbearable. It sounds like my father’s neck snapping.”

Lucien’s heart cracked for the icy Archeron sister. She acted cold and aloof, but Lucien had a feeling she felt a lot more than she let on. Perhaps moreso than normal people. That’s why she constructed icy walls as a defense mechanism.

Lucien hesitantly offered a hug. Nesta didn’t protest; rather, she jumped into his arms and started crying silently into his chest. He gently rubbed circles into her back. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Sadly.

Nesta pulled away after a long moment. “That’s the first time,” she whispered, “I’ve felt anything since the war.”

Lucien didn’t know what to say, so he simply stared at her. After what seemed like ages, Nesta cleared her throat and said, “Why are you really here?”

Lucien started. Right. He came here to do something. “I may have a solution to one of your problems: the mating bond.”

Nesta started. “What mating bond?”

Lucien smiled grimly. “The one between you and Cassian.”

[eikonoklast]

Day 19 (Taken): To Change

   Minimas brought them down to a lower level of Solution 9. The smaller fighter was unable to control the landing as he carried his lupine companion, the two tumbling onto the smooth pavement, Minimas gasping for air as he landed in a crumpled ball. Silver lie where he was dropped, fairly still. His sides rose and fell gently with sleep, his garbled vocal cords making soft growling noises as he breathed. His silver-tinged mane rustled in the breeze as his tail trembled slightly, lost in dreams. 

   Minimas watched him there for a moment as he caught his breath. Silver looked so…incredibly small. This person he'd seen as a rival since their first match - who had let Minimas win and refused to admit it - was lying helpless a few yalms away. The lalafell knew when he was outmatched, and Silver had intentionally missed with a critical bite to one of his wings. He had opened himself up to attack and it infuriated Minimas as a fighter to be shown mercy from someone he should've beaten fair and square. He held such a grudge about it that he had started hanging out with the other fighters who hated their fellow rookie's guts. Nightmare was always looking for ways to get stronger and that had led them all to places Minimas himself would never have gone otherwise…he clutched his arm, choking back the feeling.

   His bright red eyes narrowed. Still in his transfigured form, he got up and wandered over to Silver, his dark red whip-like tail lashing with anger. He looked at his talons on the tips of his fingers with a certain satisfaction, and then back down to the figure beneath him. Silver did not show any signs of waking. 

   I could just get rid of him. 

   Jabberwocky traced a dark, taloned hand over Silver's broad and exposed side. Still, he slept. He was so oblivious. It would be so easy. Too easy, though. He shook his head, disgusted with the thought. This isn't how I want to win. 

   Minimas noticed Silver's breathing was slightly erratic, his regulator making a strange high-pitched sound that would be difficult to pick up without Minimas’ large, sensitive ears. Confused, he examined it closely. It did not appear to be broken, but indicating poor health for its owner. And only one soul left, no less.

   Minimas sighed heavily, leaning against Silver's long mane at his back, his bare skin pressing into the wolfish fur. It was warm and soft. His sleepy, rumbling growl echoed in his cavernous chest almost like a purr as Minimas rested there beside him, thinking. He looked around them at the tall, shadowy buildings; filled with their beautiful lights and simple comforts. He sat and dozed off, wishing to share them. 

   Maybe…we could be friends.

   

Alisaie walked into the Backroom at Neon Stein, past the mess in the main room. Glass was shattered behind the counter and all of its contents had been flung out in somesort've blast. The speakers by the stage had been thrown with such force that one had busted a hole in the wall nearby, half of it sticking out. Tables and chairs were in the process of being picked up by staff as they cleaned the wreckage, a few of them with bandages from nicks and cuts. Thankfully nobody had seemed seriously injured, so she had continued on her way after helping how she could.

   In the well-lit strategy room Alphinaud stood with his arms crossed, looking somber. Y'shtola paced the security corner, discussing something about drones with Shale. The two were speaking quietly, with Shale staring intently at a series of screens. Alisaie approached her brother briskly, concerned.

   “Are you all right?” she insisted, looking him over. “What happened?”

   Alphinaud struggled to meet her gaze. “I was…” he trailed off. Finally he looked at her fully; resolve and regret nestled in his eyes. “I might have a lead.”

   

Silver sat up slowly, blinking away sleep. Behind him he heard a yelp as someone tumbled off of him, and he turned to find Minimas in his transfigured form, knocked onto the ground. Pain flared out from his chest like a lance being driven through it and he gasped, frantically pawing at his regulator with a shaky hand. Slowly and painfully his limbs snapped back into place, the transformation taking longer than usual as his body resisted the feeling. Minimas stared at him as Silver sat there trembling, gasping for breath. Fully himself again.

   “It really does hurt you, doesn't it?” Jabberwocky's true, distorted voice echoed.

   “Only if I stay long,” he breathed. 

   Minimas shrugged and tapped his own regulator, switching back to his much smaller form with practiced ease. He approached and held out a hand. “Where are you trying to go, anyway?”

   Silver grasped it and his companion helped him to his feet. “I just wanted to…” Silver paused, feeling embarrassed, his face warm, “I uh…I wanted to see the outside.”

   “All this for that!?” Minimas nearly screeched, stomping on the ground in frustration and withdrawing his hand as though Silver's were a snake. 

   Silver sheepishly scratched his head, his purple hair feathering lightly under his fingers. He looked out over the city - sprawled both above and below - as vehicles whooshed past on their way to parts unknown. “I guess I just…I want to see the world.” Minimas looked at him critically, one of his eyebrows shooting up in skeptical disbelief. “There's more to life than just what's in here!” he said defensively, his tail tip twitching as he wound his fingers together anxiously.

   “So you don't want to be a fighter. I can't fathom why you're there and you won't even answer that question,” the lalafell snorted. “You've never been outside though? Like…seriously?”

   Silver shook his head. “I- I've lived here all my life…” he trailed off, holding his fingers to his temple as he felt a headache coming on. He sighed.

   “Things have only recently changed, I guess,” Minimas said thoughtfully, turning to look out over the city. “Now that we know there's so much more outside the barrier.”

   “I want to see it,” Silver said quietly.

   “Why don't you just go outside, then?” Minimas sounded completely puzzled.

   “I'm under house arrest.”

   “You? You're under house arrest?” the young man laughed dryly. “What could someone like you possibly have done to get yourself stuck in your room?”

   Silver stared blankly. “I don't know.”

   Minimas opened his mouth and then closed it again like a large fish. “You're not lying, are you,” he said finally. 

   It wasn't a question. More of a statement. But Silver nodded anyway.

   “Don't you think that's weird? Like, at all?”

   Silver looked down at the drop-off near their feet. “It's normal for me.”

   “You are the worst heel Arcadion has ever seen. You can't bring yourself to beat anyone in the ring. Even in an unscripted match against someone like me where you're definitely, absolutely, one-hundred percent allowed to. And for some reason everyone still loves you,” Minimas sounded exasperated. “And all you want is to not be there whatsoever and to just go outside.” 

   “Please…”

   Minimas’ voice increased in volume with his exasperation as he wandered around the platform, gesticulating wildly. “And you don't even know what you want to do or why, and that is completely normal for you?” 

   Silver dug his fingers into his forehead as the headache spiked and his anxiety along with it. “Please stop,” he choked, feeling trapped. “I can't…I can't answer your questions, I don't know. Why is it so wrong that I don't have a plan!?” He felt like the walls of his muddy thoughts were trying to drown him, pressing in on every side. “I don't care! About any of it! It may seem like a joke to you but it's just what I want to do!” he yelled the last words, his lavender eyes boring holes into the young man staring at him.

   “I always thought you were such a freak, Silver,” Minimas spat, bristling. “I couldn't have even guessed how much of one. What kind've person can't answer simple questions about themselves? And who were those people!? What in the queen's name do they have to do with anything!?!? Why did they attack us? Attack you!?”

   “Shut up! Why don't you just leave me alone if I am so awful to deal with!? Should I make you?” Silver snarled. He held a hand to his regulator. 

   Minimas crossed his arms, sneering, “If you weren't lying about what you said earlier, I bet you won't. But you know what? Maybe I will.” The lalafell noted the slight tremble in Silver's hand and he looked away, disgusted. “You're pathetic. Go outside or whatever your stupid dream is, I'm done.” 

   Minimas’ regulator whirred to life with a flash of red light and he lifted off into the air, leaving Silver stranded on the platform. “Next time I see you in the ring, I will win,” he shot back as he flew away, leaving Silver alone, staring at the distant elevator. 

   The miqo'te's hand fell to his side. He fought back the choking feeling of sadness that was trying to claw its way up out of his chest and he knelt on the ground, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears from coming. He trembled, knowing that to leave meant to change, and that to change always meant pain. 

   But I…I need to go there.

   

“What!? That doesn't…That doesn't make any sense.” Alisaie scowled, Y'shtola and Alphinaud sharing the details of their encounter. “He looks like him, sure. But this has nothing to do with that.”

   Alphinaud looked pained as he reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder. Alisaie seemed too distracted to even notice as she stared at the floor, processing the information.

   Y'shtola cut through, her pragmatic tone was like a shard of ice down Alisaie's back. “I saw it, myself. I know not why but the how would be very simple with clever use of regulator technology.”

   Alisaie stared directly at her. “You're telling me that's Chiteni? That kid? He can't possibly be older than us, even.”

   Y'shtola shook her head. “No, I am not. We know precious too little to make any assumptions at this time. But…I don't doubt what I saw.” The miqo'te gestured to Shale's monitors. “We've hijacked some of the patrol drones and are searching for the two of them at present.”

   Walking over to another station, Y'shtola had a young hyuran woman open up a file of somekind on a smaller screen. “I've been going over the logs and registration of Arcadion fighters based on the information you shared with us, Alisaie. His stage name is Silver Bullet. He registered a little under one month ago.” Y'shtola paused, her brow furrowed. “What's more: most candidates seem to be under the sponsorship of individuals or companies who pay for their entry into the selection process. They vouch for their skills and provide personal information that may be of use to the board. But as you can see,” she opened a file. It was largely empty, without even a photo. “This seems to be redacted or…maybe it was never entered. Nor is there a listed sponsor we could contact for this information.” 

   “He's a ghost,” Alphinaud said quietly. “Or maybe not even a person, to be more specific.” The way the words left his mouth felt unnatural and stilted, as if he himself did not agree with them. 

   Alisaie stared at the blank file. Her eyes searched the screen as if they could uncover more from the pixels on its empty surface, darting to and fro without seeing. 

   “That boy has his soul,” Y'shtola said quietly, her head tilted downward. “We need to find him.”

Author's Note: I am SO RELIEVED to have this off my chest oh my god lol The holding back constantly was absolutely killing me. But I'm actually really happy with the flow of this one. The argument between Minimas and Silver especially is deeply personal to me: as someone who sometimes struggles to explain myself because of brain fog or memory issues or sensory overload I really didn't realize I was just sort've…writing myself, honestly. I feel like my inability to articulate can make me frustrating to speak to, particularly when I'm in distress. And especially when talking to people whose thoughts mean a lot to me. So this one's from the heart. Let's hope they can reconcile next time, maybe? Assuming there is a next time, of course.

[pickinglilahs]

Blackeclipse for the soul

Remus/James/Regulus

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 6.5; Part 8

Don't ask how long this is cause idk I promise there will be more Reggie in the next chapter

Remus again awoke to fingers running through his hair.

Some part of him knew that he was in the hospital wing and that last night had been the Full. But nothing his senses were telling him fit that. He was warm, well rested, he wasn't in pain, and his pillow smelled like wind and sunshine and-

James

His pillow was James.

Remus sat up so quickly, he almost fell off the bed. Only James' quick quidditch reflexes saved him. Remus froze at the feeling of James' hands on his arm and behind his knee.

James slowly brought him back into a lying position, trying hard not to laugh. "Good morning to you too."

Remus groaned in embarrassment and buried his face in James' shoulder. He felt James chuckle, and then, surprisingly, kiss the top of his head.

Remus slowly turned his head till he could see James' face with one eye. James was smiling down at him.

But it wasn't the usual James Potter smile. The loud, dazzling, showing all his teeth smile. No. This was something else, something... soft, warm, and almost... timid?

"It's almost lunch. Poppy says we can go down to the Great Hall if you're feeling up to it."

Remus blinks. Surely not. Surely days had passed since the moon because he had never felt like this the next day, let alone before lunch.

He sat up—slower this time—and James—prepared now—adjusted to give him room. When they were both sitting, facing each other, Remus looked down at himself.

He flexed his fingers; rolled his shoulders; stretched his legs. There was none of the pain he was expecting, partially because there weren't any new wounds, but- There was no sharp, hot agony at every movement. His head felt clear, and his pulse was steady.

Not to say he didn't ache something awful. He felt stiff and creaky, obviously, but he felt like that 75% of the time.

He looked up at James in wonder. James' answering smile was at full blast. Remus might as well have told him Christmas had come early and his present was winning all his quidditch matches this year.

James opened his mouth to say something, but Poppy came over just then. She asked about how he was feeling and had him test his range of motion. She gave him a change of clothes and the all-clear, even though she seemed concerned that he was still achy.

Remus was over the moon–literally–and he all but ran down to lunch with James. He sat across from Sirius and Peter, James sliding in beside him. He physically couldn't stop the smile from crawling across his face.

Startled by their sudden appearance, Sirius and Peter looked between the two of them, clearly shocked. Then Remus paused.

Before he could even ask, James leaned over and whispered to him, "Sirius knows because he's seen my Mark and we told Peter. No one else knows, though. I wanted to talk to you first."

James pulls back to look at him and Remus could have kissed him.

He didn't.

But he could have.

And they were Soulmates. So, he would kiss him at some point. Probably. Unless James didn't want him romantically. Some Soulmates were like that, but Remus wasn't sure he wanted that, not after spending so long thinking he would never have one at all. And they were only 15! What was James expecting them to do? What was he comfortable doing? When were-

James, sweet, energetic, oblivious, James must have read his thought process like it was printed on his face, because, just then, he bumped their shoulders together. "Stop worrying. We'll talk after lunch, and everything will be fine."

When did James learn to read him so well? Had he always been able to? Had Remus just never noticed?

James put food on his plate and a fork in his hand. The smile crept back onto Remus' face, and he knocked his shoulder into James' in thanks.

They ate like they always did. James and Sirius arguing about something while Peter watched them like a tennis match. Remus rolled his eyes and told them to quiet down when they got too loud.

As they were finishing up, Frank came over and announced an impromptu quidditch practice. Sirius perked up at the news, but James stiffened.

Before he could protest, Remus leaned over and whispered, "Go ahead, we can talk later. I need to go to the library anyway."

James looked at him critically before murmuring, "This isn't a test, right? Where you tell me to go but you really mean stay and will be mad either way?"

Shocked, Remus laughed, loud and sudden. Forgetting they were whispering, he asked, "Who would do that? That's not just gaslighting, that's insane."

James' eyes drifted down the table and understanding filled him. He put a hand on James' arm and looked him in the eye. "Go. Have fun. And don't fall off again."

James groaned and put his face in his hands. "It was ONE TIME!"

Remus laughed as they stood and made their way to the entrance hall. By the time they got there, James' soft smile had returned, and Remus had to tamp down a blush.

Remus convinced Peter that he was fine and that it was okay to go with them. When James agreed, Peter caved, and they disappeared.

He went up to the dorm by himself to grab his schoolwork, then made his way to the library. He made his way clear to the back of the restricted section, where there were two armchairs tucked into a corner.

One was already occupied.

"Didn't think you'd make it." The soft, melodic voice of Regulus Black floated to him as he made his way over. The boy hadn't looked up from his book, but they were both relatively certain no one else knew about this nook.

"Why not?" Remus sat down across from him and pulled out his Charms notes.

When Regulus didn't answer, Remus looked up. The other boy was staring at him, playing with one of the silver rings on his fingers.

Remus had suspected Regulus knew about his lycanthropy, but they never talked about it. They never talked about anything really. In all their run-ins, he had never heard Regulus say anything ignorant or bigoted, even to other people. If Regulus did know, he hadn't told, but, still, he wore the rings.

Instead of answering, Regulus asked, "Did you know there's a new study trying to find ways for lycanthropes to keep their human mind during the Full?"

Remus blinked and schooled himself. This was dangerous territory. If he was just baiting, Remus couldn't give anything away, but if he was genuinely offering... Forcing his voice into mild curiosity, "Where'd you hear that?"

"Malfoy was in the common room last night saying his dad is trying to get the project shut down." Regulus was still watching him, but Remus' curiosity won out.

"Will he be able to? Shut it down?"

Regulus shrugged. "Depends on who's funding it. If it's a public entity, probably. But if it's a private investor..."

Remus nodded, understanding. Regulus turned his attention back to his book, leaving Remus to his racing thoughts.

It was a while before he was able to force his thoughts back to homework. He had only stared down at the book for a moment before Regulus moved to pack up.

Remus nodded to him as he walked away, but Regulus had only gone a few steps before he half-turned back. "I'll keep an ear out. Let you know if they bring it up again."

He had turned and was walking away again before Remus called a soft, "Thanks."

As soon as he left, Remus felt his energy leave him. He had finally come down from the high he had been on that morning. Suddenly, all he wanted was to curl up in bed with James again and go back to sleep.

Sighing, he gave up on homework, packed his things, and made his way back to the dorm. He set his bag on his desk, deciding to shower and put on comfier clothes. He grabbed a pair of sweats and, in a stroke of genius, rummaged through James' trunk for a jumper.

It was nice, showering in the middle of the day. No one was waiting for him to finish so he could take all the time he liked. Stepping out, he dried himself off and towel-dried his hair before moving to put his clothes on.

He had just pulled the jumper over his head when he caught his reflection in the mirror. He dropped his head into his hands.

Of course none of his friends had ever seen his Mark. He always changed in the bathroom because he was so self-conscious. This morning in the Shack was probably the first time any of them had seen him without a shirt on.

Kicking himself for his own stupidity, he grabbed his discarded clothes and left the bathroom. He set the clothes on his trunk and grabbed a book, but paused before getting into bed.

Slowly, he turned to look at James' bed. He debated for a whole three seconds, before shrugging to himself and climbing into James'.

He pulled up the covers, leaned back against the pillows, and opened his book. Two minutes later, he accepted defeat and put the book down. He was asleep in seconds.

[foxydivaxx]

Excerpt for End of Paradise

The stage was set. Sanji arrived at the club, a hotspot for Marcus's regular hangouts. The plan was straightforward: Sanji would revert to his former persona as a hooker. His revealing outfit - denim shorts with ripped sides, a black leather jacket and a cropped vest - was designed to draw attention.

He had also dyed his hair black and cleverly concealed his curly eyebrows with some nice makeup trick that he picked up as a kid, a potential giveaway to his true identity. As expected, heads turned as he made his entrance, but Sanji just smirked and ignored the stares. He was accustomed to the attention. Meanwhile, Zoro had already arrived at the club, sitting at the bar and smoking a cigarette. Mihawk had briefed him on the mission specifics, including the arrival of a special someone.

Zoro suspected it might be Sanji. And then, the boy made his entrance, earning a flurry of stares. Zoro's jaw dropped - Sanji looked different, but those striking eyes were unmistakable. He couldn't help but think Sanji looked incredibly hot tonight. Shaking his head, Zoro refocused on the mission. He was there to back Sanji up and intervene if things turned sour, which was likely in the Mafia world. Noticing one of the politician's guards eyeing Sanji, Zoro made a mental note to keep an eye on him, prepared to take him down if necessary.

Sanji settles in beside Marcus, flashing a charming smile. "Hello, Senator. Lovely to meet you, sir." He exudes friendliness, carefully concealing his true intentions. Zoro positions himself nearby, listening in on their conversation while keeping a watchful eye out for potential dangers.

He's determined to protect Sanji, even if it means taking out any threats that might arise. "Ah, hello, Mr...?" Marcus begins. "Yonji," Sanji replies, using his late brother's name as a cover. It's a distasteful necessity, but Sanji knows it's essential to blend in and survive in the shadows when dealing with men as ruthless as Marcus.

Marcus nods, seemingly oblivious to the danger sitting beside him. "Pleasure to meet you, Yonji." Zoro notes with satisfaction that the bodyguards are distracted, not paying attention to the potential threat Sanji poses. He thinks to himself, "Amateurs. Who hires such incompetent men as bodyguards or bouncers? They should be hyper-vigilant, not so easily caught off guard." The scene is set for a tense encounter, with Sanji playing the charming stranger and Zoro waiting in the wings, ready to strike if necessary.

Marcus asks, entranced by Sanji's charm, "So, what brings you here, Yonji?" Sanji flashes a sly smirk, thinking to himself, "Marcus is precisely as described - naive, reckless, and indulgent. He's the perfect mark." Sanji responds, "A little fun never hurts, Mr. Senator. And I heard this is the place to be for a wild time. You do enjoy letting loose, don't you?" He winks, knowing he's got Marcus right where he wants him. Marcus starts to ask, "How did you -" but Sanji cuts him off with a chuckle, "Gossip travels fast on the streets, Senator. You know how it is."

Zoro watches the exchange with a mix of admiration and disbelief. He may not have the patience for Sanji's smooth-talking tactics, but he can see why Sanji excels at this kind of work. The guy has a natural talent for manipulation and a deep understanding of the underworld's inner workings. Zoro makes a mental note to trust Sanji's instincts and let him take the lead in situations like this.

[rissararity]

Mercy Rose - (Steve Rogers/oc)

(Spring formal drama, missed opportunities, oblivious Steve)

Word count: 1090

CHAPTER THREE:

“I’m telling ya, Pal, Darlene will at least let you cop a sympathy feel.”

Steve's cheeks burned and he shook his head, “No she’d never go to the dance with me. She’d probably just laugh if I asked her.”

Bucky shrugged, “Yeah but think of all you have to gain!”

“I don’t want to use a gal for her body, I like her for who she is.”

The brunet scoffed, “What do you know about who she is? Have you ever….talked to her?”

The blonde looked away, “No, I haven’t. But I want to…sorta.”

Mira entered the living room holding three bottles of coke, “Want to what?” She placed one in front of each of her friends and took her place in her favorite arm chair while the boys sat on the couch.

“Steve wants a date to the spring formal but he’s too chicken shit to ask out the girl he wants.”

The scrawny boy’s jaw dropped and he sputtered a protest, weakly punching Bucky’s arm and getting a laugh.

“Most of the girls already have dates.”

“Mm, the ones worth asking do at least.” Bucky agreed, “What about you, Doll? Who’s taking you to the spring formal?”

Mira’s blush was very much visible as her stomach sank, eyes flicking down with sadness for a moment before rising to meet his again.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words came out, her teary eyes spoke volumes.

Steve's eyes grew wide as he realized none of the boys she thought might ask her had.

No one had.

And Bucky just said all the girls worth asking already had dates.

He rubbed his temples as it clicked for him seconds before it did for Bucky, who’s mouth dropped as well as he stammered about how he didn’t mean it and it didn’t apply to her for some reason she was already too numb to hear.

“I’m going to make us a snack.” She stood and left the room, voice stiff.

--

Steve bucked up the courage to ask Darlene to the dance to his surprise she said yes- Only to ditch him at the entrance, her friends whisking her away immediately.

Bucky and his date left shortly after they arrived to look at the stars.(Go to the overlook for car sex.)

Steve spent most of the dance trying to find his date but she was clearly avoiding him. Tears pricked at his eyes but he locked his jaw and kept them in.

Giving up and body tired,  he sat down at one of the abandoned tables trying to catch his breath.

After a rustle of fabric, he looked up and was rendered speechless for a moment at the sight of the angel sitting beside him.

Mira had never been more breathtaking than in that moment as she brought him a drink, offering a sad but supportive smile; his night had gone almost exactly like she worried it would.

Her golden hair sat in perfect victory rolls, winged eyeliner and darkened lashes. Her lips were painted a natural pink that complemented her skintone and her light blue dress made her silver gaze downright enchanting.

She may have shared a couple of physical traits with Darlene but being around her was entirely different.

And not just in the fact that it was possible.

The car ride with Darlene had been awkward, his hands sweat a weird amount all over the steering wheel of the car Bucky let him borrow.

Yes, she noticed.

But sitting here with Mira, even surrounded by all these people, he felt like they were they only two in the room. Her presence was a comfort, her eyes were Sterling silver but, somehow, never icy or cold.

If the gates of heaven were silver, Steve thought, they’d be that shade.

“I’m sorry,  Dreamboat.” She gently squeezed his hand.

For the first time ever, he recoiled from her touch. She blinked in surprise as he looked around the room at their dancing classmates.

“It doesn’t matter. So who wound up asking you, Darlin?” he looked around the gymnasium for anyone coming toward them.

When she didn’t answer, he froze and looked at her.

She anxiously wrung her hands, “All the ones worth asking already had dates, I hear.”

Steve’s heart broke for her- her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the band.

Mira gulped before shaking herself a little, “It doesn’t matter.” She quoted the other blonde who frowned.

His own hurt feelings he was used to. But hers felt…unacceptable.

He wished he could tell her something smooth  that would result in them dancing together  and saving the evening…but without Bucky there to consult, he chickened out.

They sat in silence while the dance went on around them. Mira turned down a few dance offers, claiming her feet hurt but it wasn’t true.

“You don’t have to sit here with me and be miserable. Go dance, have fun.”

She shook her head, “I like being here with you.”

Steve was too awkward to speak comfortably to her like he normally could, and much too awkward to look at her long enough to see her deflate as the night went on.

They did, however, have their pictures taken.

After the dance, Steve gave her a ride home and found he could talk to her just fine as long as he wasn’t looking at her.

Looking at her made his heart race, his hands sweat and his pants get tighter. As long as he kept his eyes on the road, he’d be fine.

Gosh, how did Bucky do this and more?

And this was his friend, not even a crush like Darlene.

Since they only lived two houses apart,  he took them both to his house. Mira sat in the car a moment too long, opened her door and got out-straightening her dress and taking a glimpse at her hair and makeup in a window with a closed curtain.

“Walk me home?” she asked, batting her lashes and turning slightly side to side.

Steve gaped for a solid couple of seconds before looking down, “I…I gotta do the d-dishes…”

Mira’s face fell, a spike of rejection stinging her chest.

She didn’t know it then, but Steve saw the look on her face and the change in her body language. Somewhat chewing on her lip, she tried to appear unaffected. “Alright well, thanks for the ride. Goodnight, Stevie.”

His cheeks flushed as she pecked his cheek and  turned to walk two houses over to hers.