#I haven't finished it yet.... little over halfway through

[carlyraejepsans]

...so that mpreg soriel fic is extremely fucking good

[keeps-ache]

ah yiss. the golden garbage premium pass (free!)

[livelaughloveluffy]

confession - black leg sanji

a/n: i wrote this fic to a very particular song because it's just so sanji coded to me. here's the song!! literally since i heard this song, it just plays in my head to every little romantic scenario my brain can conjure, and i can't help but share it since i feel it fits this fic particularly well.

nothing but fluff here 💗

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it was much harder for black-leg sanji to recall a time he wasn't in love with you, than when he was. the very first time your eyes fell onto his, he couldn't help but feel that this was something different. something special.

he couldn't help but feel his eyes follow you, his body leaning in closer to your every word and movement, his mind nonstop thinking about you. he was so deep into this infatuation that he almost couldn't bare to talk to you, he was a million time more nervous than he ever had been talking to other girls, his mind so muddled with the millions of possible different reactions you could have to him, that he didn't even want to attempt at all.

the very first time you ever talked to the blonde-haired chef, he hadn't even noticed you were there. it had been late at night, he had just finished with deep cleaning the kitchen, and some of the prep for tomorrow's breakfast, when he decided that he wanted some fresh air and a cigarette under the stars.

halfway through his first drag, he heard a small voice to his right, "it's a nice night, isn't it?" caught off guard by the sound of your sweet gentle voice, a faint blush flushed in his cheeks as he slightly choked on the smoke of his cigarette, once he was able to collect himself enough, he replied "what are you doing up so late, mon chéri?"

"i don't know.. i just... its been awhile since i joined the crew and i still feel like i haven't really gotten to know you yet.. plus, it really is a beautiful night." you answered, with a small smile on your lips.

the sea breeze was especially chilly tonight, and sanji couldn't just idly stand by as he watched your arms beginning to develop goosebumps "here mon chéri, take my coat, i can't have you catching a cold. or can i offer you a cup of tea?"

your cheeks turning a slight shade of pink, pulling his suit coat tighter around your shoulders, with an adorable smile you answered "i could go for a cup of tea."

•♡•

your first chance encounter lead to many others... you started to wake up earlier than usual, joining him in the kitchen, making small conversation as he prepped and cooked breakfast, staying late past dinner to keep him company as he cleaned, as these small rituals began to blossom into routine, sanji couldn't stop his heart from swooning the more he was around you.

any time in your presence was something that the cook cherished so deeply. replaying the moment your eyes met his in the room, the small smile on your lips, over and over again in his mind. there wasn't a second that he wasn't utterly consumed with the thought of you. and the more he thought about you, the more he couldn't get enough of you.

the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed and smiled, the sound of your sweet soft voice, your warm hands whenever they gently touched his arm or back, everything about you made him feel weak in the knees.

he was utterly, completely, and entirely, in love with you.

•♡•

however, unbeknownst to the curly-browed cook, you too started to feel the same way.

the very first time you two really got to talk had forever changed the way you viewed sanji. his gentle raspy voice, his ocean-blue eyes so full of warmth and passion. you could truly feel the love within every action he does for others.

and it wasn't just that, his passion was truly inspiring. his dedication to cooking and the crew was enough to make your heart melt. the attention to detail he put into everything he did, his soft hands delicate as he prepared and placed food, his intense look of focus, and the warm solid smile he had when he was truly satisfied with his work, how could you not love him?

•♡•

if sanji was going to come clean about how he felt, he was going to do it right. it was just in his favor that the sunny happened to take a small pit-stop, everyone needing some time off the ship, jumped at the chance to explore. except you and sanji.

sanji was in charge of watching over the ship.. and for whatever reason you had decided to stay too, if he recalled correctly you said something about wanting some alone time. he knew luffy and the others would never pass up for a chance at some local cuisine, so he could count on just preparing dinner for the two of you.

the curly-browed cook's heart danced and fluttered with the opportunity, he could pull out all the stops to make this the most romantic and delicious meal he could make.

•♡•

it wasn't that often that you got to lounge on the deck of the sunny, in utter silence, save for the soft sound of crashing waves against the ship, enjoying the sight of the occasional birds flying overhead and the sun beginning to set, you were determined to finish the last couple chapters of your book, and you had done just that.

you were just about to start getting up to head to the kitchen, wondering what the plan for dinner was tonight since it appeared to be just you and sanji, but as you turned to do just that, the cook was already by your side. "mon chéri, i was just coming to get you. dinner is ready."

it was a quite walk to the kitchen, sanji's cheeks had a hint of pink blush spread so cutely across from them, fidgeting with the cigarette in between his fingers, the cook seemed nervous about something...

•♡•

he held open the kitchen door for you, letting you walk in first "after you, mon chéri." and what greeted you inside was the most beautiful candle-lit dinner you had ever seen. the table was set with extreme care and delicacy, hand-arranged flowers (your favorite kind, of course) sitting in a vase right at the center.

you turn to sanji, eyes wide with shock and amazement, "oh my god! sanji, this is amazing! it's so beautiful, you didn't have to do all of this!!" it was only with a gentle placing of his hand on the smalls of your back, that you then started to pick up your feet and head inside the kitchen.

like a true gentleman, he pulled out your chair for you and scooted you in as you sat. you watched as he grabbed your plates, already served with the most divine looking pasta dish, salad, and local baked fish, and gently placed them on the table. it was only then when he was opening and pouring the sweet white wine into your respective glasses that he started to speak again. "honestly, this almost doesn't feel like enough.." after placing the wine glass on the table, he took his seat, placing his hands on the table around the plate in front of him.

his nerves had started to get the best of him, and suddenly he was consumed with the overwhelming worry that you deserved much more than this. his blonde hair falling into his eye, as he tilted his head down towards his food, almost afraid to look you in the eyes.

reaching across the table, you gently picked up his hand, holding it in yours. it was then that he was finally able to meet your eyes again, that you finally replied "are you crazy? this is incredible! i can't believe you would do all of this just for me.."

"just for you? oh, mon amour, i am utterly infatuated with you. how could i not do this for you?" the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them, he couldn't hold them in any longer. blush filled his cheeks yet again, but since the cat was already out of the bag, he might as well finish what he was trying to say. he gently squeezed your hair in his as he softly stated "it would be my greatest honor and delight to call you mine."

as his ocean blue eyes gazed into yours with worry and anticipation, the blush colored across his noses and cheeks, you couldn't help the way your heart melted as you gently replied "you already have my heart, sanji. i'm all yours."

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a/n: this is truly the most self indulgent fic i have ever written and im not even going to lie and act like its not. the plot of this fic is my greatest dream in life. this stupid little fic has been eating up my brain and it just seems selfish to keep it there. they don't like love you like i love you fr sanji 😭😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part six

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!

series masterlist // playlist

Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.

Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.

"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.

He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.

"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."

"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.

"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.

"I love it."

You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.

"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."

He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.

You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.

"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

And just like that, he's gone.

You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.

"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.

"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.

You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"

"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.

"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.

"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."

"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."

You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"

"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."

"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."

"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."

"Why's that?"

"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."

You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."

"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."

"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."

"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"

"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"

"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.

"And do you have a pencil and paper?"

Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.

"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.

"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."

Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."

"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"

"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.

"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.

Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.

"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.

"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"

"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.

"Is she hurt?"

"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.

He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"

"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."

Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.

"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"

Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.

"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."

"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."

All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"

Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.

"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.

"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.

"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.

He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.

"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."

Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.

"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."

It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.

"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."

"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."

"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.

"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."

You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.

"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"

"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."

Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.

"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"

"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination, @fantasticchaosthing, @coolcatyarb, @yokolesbianism, @becauseseaotters, @KimmiB13

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

[wordingg]

Proud Parents

Dead Boy Ween Day 5, prompt: family

Summary: Crystal is insistent that she doesn't need the dead boys to attend her graduation ceremony. But, Charles and Edwin would never let Crystal go alone.

AN: I got like halfway through this one and realized that schools in the UK probably don't have graduation ceremonies the same way American schools. They might not even have graduation ceremonies at all. BUT I HAVEN'T MISSED A DAY YET AND IM NOT GONNA START NOW SO YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF. okay thanks.

“You guys can’t come to my graduation, okay?” Crystal said firmly.

It was a little hard to take her seriously when she was standing in a veritable ocean of clothes and shaking what looked like a very fancy sunhat at them, but her expression was very serious.

“My parents are going to be there and I don’t want any weird ghost shit going on, okay?” Crystal added. She threw them an exasperated look when both boys just stared at her with folded arms.

“They said they’re going to be there?” Charles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“They gave a very firm maybe, which is practically a yes for them,” Crystal snapped back.

Charles frowned at that, but Edwin spoke over whatever he was planning to say.

“Of course, if you don’t want us to attend your graduation ceremony, we will respect your wishes,” Edwin said benevolently.

“Thank you, Edwin,” Crystal said, with a pointed look at Charles.

“You’re quite welcome, Crystal,” Edwin said with a polite nod.

Crystal disappeared back into her walk in closet to continue to dig for something good enough to wear under her graduation gown. Charles turned to Edwin with a confused frown.

“There’s no way her parents are going to show up for graduation, is there?” he asked sincerely.

“Not a chance,” Edwin said, still watching the closet door. “I checked their calendar and they’ve already booked two interviews and something called an ‘experimental banjo sesh’ for the same time as the ceremony.”

“God, what arseholes,” Charles muttered. “Crystal deserves better.”

“Of course she does,” Edwin said with an arched brow. “That is why we will be better for her.”

Charles’ mouth stretched into a manic grin and Edwin’s own mouth twitched at the edges with infectious glee.

---

The day of her graduation, Crystal was sweating with nerves. She had opted to finish her degree online when her attempts to make up with many of the people in her class that she had wronged had gone badly, to say the least. It was the first time in months that she was in the same room with them. It was a big gymnasium, but it was hard not to notice all the venomous looks pointed her way from almost every corner.

Crystal wiped her palms on the fabric of her gown, but the artificial fabric did nothing to wick the moisture away from her skin. She wanted to touch her cap to make sure it was sitting straight, but was worried about knocking her elaborate hairstyle down. She had gotten up early to arrange her curls into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck. It had been a bigger challenge than she expected and as a result her hair was mostly held together by two dozen bobby pins and sheer determination.

Crystal’s parents had already been gone by the time she was ready to leave for the ceremony, but she tried not to let that get her down. She had just talked to them the night before and they had confirmed their definite maybe for her graduation. She just had to have faith. They probably were picking up flowers or a cake or something. They knew Crystal was very self sufficient and could call her own cab to take her to the school.

Finally it was time to line up and walk out onto the field. Luckily, Crystal ended up in line between two boys that she didn’t recognize and who didn’t seem all that interested in her. They walked out of the gymnasium and into the bright spring day outside. Crystal was briefly blinded, but as soon as her eyes cleared she looked out into the crowd for her parents.

The field outside the gym was absolutely packed with people. There were rows and rows of folding chairs set up for the students graduating. The line steadily filled the rows in, directed by teachers in suits and skirts. Around the folding chairs were metal bleachers packed with adults and other kids alike, everyone snapping photos and waving and shouting things as the students filing into the chairs occasionally picked someone out of the crowd and waved back.

She didn’t see her parents as she walked out, but it was a madhouse. Probably they were there and she just didn’t see them. That was fine. Crystal turned around during a speech started to try and look again and got hissed at by one of the teachers, so she turned back around and pretended to pay attention.

The speeches washed over her like so much noise. She couldn’t have recalled anything that was said even if her life depended on it. Her mind was on the crowd at her back and her parents, the anxiety of not knowing crawling up her throat and threatening to choke her.

Then, finally, they started calling names and it was time to walk across the stage and claim her diploma. The school had considered ‘Von Hoverkraft’ to be her last name, so she had to wait until almost every other kid had gone before she could stand up and walk across the small pop up stage to shake the hand of a sweaty middle aged man she didn’t recognize and take her diploma.

As she did so, a camera flashed from the crowd, loud and bright and briefly blinding her. Crystal felt tears pricking her eyes and it wasn’t just from the bright flash. Someone was taking her picture and she couldn’t help but hope it was her dad, memorializing her finally finishing high school, finally becoming an adult.

Her smile turning sincere for the first time that day, Crystal walked to the other side of the stage and back to her seat feeling breathless. They were here somewhere in the crowd. They had come. They had shown up for her.

A few more kids went up to get their diploma and there was one last short speech. Everyone was itching for the ceremony to be over, so the speech didn’t last for very long. Soon, the ceremony was over and the two crowds (students and families) rushed toward each other, students merging into the bleachers while parents and siblings ran into the lines of folding chairs.

Crystal stood up, but then she froze. She was short in her sensible flats and couldn’t see over the heads of the crowd to find her parents. She started to move toward the bleachers, but it was a wild press of people and she felt a surge of panic that she wouldn’t be able to find them in time, that the crowds would deter them and her parents would leave without her seeing them.

Halfway to the bleachers, Crystal felt a man’s hand on her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. Crystal whipped around, not sure if she should be ecstatic or vicious, and looked into a familiar face. Familiar, but not the one she was hoping for.

An older man, maybe in his fifties, with red hair almost completely turned white and distinguished rimless glasses was smiling down at her. It was Charles in his living person disguise.

“Crystal, this way!” he said over the low roar of the crowd, guiding her away from the bleachers and through them toward the parking lot.

Briefly, Crystal felt irritated. She had told them not to come. But, she couldn’t hold onto her frustration for very long. She was scared and upset and hopeful by equal measures and Charles’ presence was a comforting. She eventually shook his hand off her arm so that she could instead grab his hand in hers and he smiled down at her again.

Charles led her out of the crowd and around to the back of the metal bleachers, where Crystal saw a woman in big acrylic frames wearing a little maroon beret over blonde hair peppered with white. Edwin.

“I told you guys I didn’t want you here,” Crystal muttered. “I have to get back. My parents might leave if they can’t find me.”

Charles and Edwin exchanged a speaking look and Crystal’s stomach dropped.

“We weren’t going to come,” Charles started to say. Crystal realized suddenly that he was wearing a big old fashioned camera around his neck by a strap. She swallowed around a lump in her throat.

“But, we also weren’t about to leave you here alone if they didn’t come,” Edwin said quickly.

Crystal felt her eyes filling with tears and firmly told herself not to blink. If she blinked, they would fall and if they started to fall, they might never stop.

She looked at Edwin. Edwin would tell her the truth, even if it hurt. She could trust him to do that for her.

“I’m sorry, Crystal,” he said quietly. “I followed them all morning. We only came once we were sure they were not going to make it to your graduation ceremony.”

It didn’t matter that Crystal hadn’t blinked, the tears began to fall anyway. She dashed them away viciously but they just kept falling.

“God, you must think I’m so naive,” she laughed. “You must have wanted so bad to tell me how stupid I was being. So, go ahead. Say it,” she glared at Edwin, but he only stared evenly back. “Say I was stupid for believing in them! You would be right!” she cried.

“Crystal Palace, you are the farthest thing from stupid,” Edwin said, like it was the most factual thing in the world.

“You’re a good daughter,” Charles said gently, “and you love your parents. That’s not a fault, Crystal. It’s admirable that you keep trying.”

The tears were coming faster now and Crystal gave up on trying to preserve her mascara and eyeliner and instead rubbed at her eyes, probably smearing black makeup everywhere.

“Eds! The flowers!” Charles whispered while Crystal tried desperately to get her tears under control.

She heard rustling and then when she opened her eyes it was to a huge bouquet of lilies, big pink ones with little brown spots exploding out from yellow centers, filled in all around with delicate baby’s breath.

“You got me flowers?” Crystal wobbled, fresh tears threatening to fall.

“And a balloon, but I sort of forgot those things float and it got away from me,” Charles said with a hangdog expression.

Edwin sighed at the mention of the balloon, but shook it off quickly. He stepped in to run his thumbs delicately under Crystal’s eyes, clearing away the smudged makeup along with a few stray tears.

“And, we will be taking you to that awful raw fish buffet that you like,” Edwin said as he cleaned up her makeup here and there.

“It’s called sushi, I know you know that. And, I don’t think they’ll let you come in if you aren’t going to eat anything,” Crystal sniffed.

“I dare say you will eat enough raw fish for the rest of us,” Edwin said, dry as the Sahara desert.

“And, we’ll tell everyone within hearing distance how proud we are of our amazing daughter who just graduated from high school!” Charles added with a grin.

“Yes, she’s quite amazing,” Edwin said, stepping back and judging Crystal’s makeup good enough so long as she didn’t start crying again. “Neither of us ever finished high school. She’s the first in our family to do so.”

“We’re proud parents, we are,” Charles said, elbowing Edwin with a grin that earned him an eye roll and a reluctant smile.

“You guys…” Crystal trailed off, sniffing. She clutched the flowers closer to her chest, the paper crinkling against her graduation gown. Golden pollen smeared against the cheap polyester and stuck to it, but she couldn’t possibly bring herself to care at the moment.

“Please, Crystal, no more tears. I just fixed your mascara,” Edwin complained, stepping in again to fan at her face with his hands like maybe he could dry the tears before they fell.

Crystal hiccuped around a sound that might have been a sob or a laugh, even she wasn’t sure. She threw her arms around both of their necks, drawing Charles and Edwin into a group hug. The bracketed her sides and the flowers crinkled against their backs. She felt their arms settle around her waist, their heads tilted against her own.

“Thanks, you guys,” she said thickly.

“Of course, Crystal,” Edwin whispered back.

“Anytime,” Charles agreed.

[ghostbustting]

Hiiiii !!

How are youuuu???

I was wondering if you could write something for early 2000s James Hetfield where reader is in her mid twenties but haven't lost her virginity yet because she is waiting for the right person and James just so happen to be the right person.

But like really fluffy too you know

You don't have to right it if you don't want to, I completely understand

HAVE A GREAT REST OF YOUR DAYY 💕💕

HIII I'm so sorry I haven't found a lot of time to finish the requests, I promise I'm trying to find as much freetime as possible to finish em all 🫶 over here stressed out by competitions 😭 ALSO THIS IS SO SWEET❗️

╰┈➤“𝑾𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻„ ๋࣭

James Hetfield x Reader

Contains Smut.

“Okay let me get this straight..”

James looked at me with a raised eyebrow, his eyes slightly widening as he leaned over the small shitty dinner table I had in the kitchen of my flat, his hands placing down the metal fork and knife he was previously holding onto the plate where his food was still halfway done from being gone.

I chuckle to myself as the man in front of me ask me, "You haven't lost your virginity?" The tone of his voice and the look on his face shows a genuine hint of disbelief at the unanswered question itself.

”No..” I answered with a small sigh, a smile still on my face, faltering a little while I look down nervously. The answer that just slipped out of my lips itself has been something I’m not fully proud of, feeling rather embarrass of still being what they would call “pure” at my current age. Even though I have my own reasons behind it.

The way James’ eyes widened even more and his jaw dropped a little, I could tell that he himself did not believe my answer.

It was just another Saturday night, James had asked me to have dinner together in my rather small flat, what I thought would’ve been a big contrast to what his usual preference. I had only been dating him for almost a year now, and that fact alone still made me stay awake at night, wondering what the fuck I did to have him right here in front of me.

He and even his exes were everything I’m not.

Yet he made me feel like I’m everything he needs.

James leaned back and ran a hand through his short blond hair, his other hand taking the glass of water as he slowly sip on it, he sigh as he place it back down, his eyes gazing back up at me. “..But you’re—”

”Old enough? I know.”

He paused for a moment and furrow his eyebrows, head tilted. A small chuckle leave his lips while his head shook a little, “I was about to say a wonderful human being.” He spoke, his shoulders shrugging. “You’re seriously telling me no guy has ever tried it with a woman with a personality like yours?”

Looking down, I can feel my cheeks heating up— no doubt they’d be red at the moment. His words seems to be so simple, yet so genuine. I didn’t quite expect him to make a comment on my personality when I felt like finding a person like me was something not hard to do.

There never was much to comment about myself anyways. I always found myself to be someone predictable.

Chuckling softly, I look back up at him, “No, I just.. I don’t feel ready yet.” I slowly confessed, my hands fiddling with the hem of my shirt under the table, feeling the slightest bit of nervous with the topic.

”Scared?” He asked, in a way of asking for a ‘confirmation’.

”I..” I trail of and took a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy breath as I smile softly at him, my answer coming out in slow soft voice, “I’m waiting for the right one.. the right person.”

His head nods slowly as a sign of understanding, a small smile on his face as he look at me. "What um.. what about me?" He starts, a hint of hesitant in his voice, I could tell he was going to ask something he might think was rather 'risky', my guess was answered when he spoke up again, "Do you think.. I could be.. the one..?"

The question struck me like lightning. I look down, processing his words in a loop inside my brain. I think about my answer again and again, the urge to say yes consuming my heart, making it thump slightly faster, meanwhile my brain told me to think wisely with my answer.

Before I could answer anyways, James spoke up. "—It's fine." He say, making me raise an eyebrow as he snap me out of my train of thoughts. "You don't have to answer it." A genuinely soft smile was on his lips as he look at me with those kind blue eyes, a different gaze than the one I usually see him use onstage.

"Just know.." His hands slowly reach over the small table and hold both of mine, "I really.. really love you." As the words leave his lips, it hits right into my heart instead, filling my stomach with butterflies when I can hear how genuine his voice sounds.

"Like.. I'm totally definitely absolutely obviously one hundred and one percent infinitively serious about this."

A small soft laugh leave my lips, my fingers wrapping around his own hands, holding each other's hands tightly as our eyes meet. I can help but feel a sense of warmth and love taking control of my body, the actual love held in his eyes becoming even more clear as daylight as time passes.

He then stood up and took our plates and glasses, his intention of washing the dirty dishes and eating utensil obvious.

I quickly stood up and hold the stacked plates and glasses from his hands, placing them back down on the table between us. "No need. I'll wash them myself later." I smile softly at him.

The man in front of me returned the smile and nod, "Then I best be going." He spoke, walking away from the table to grab his stuff, his shoes leading his way to the door of my flat, my own steps follows close behind.

We stood in front of each other for awhule, just sharing sweet smiles. My neck started to hurt a little from how I had to tilt my head up to look at him from his tall figure, but I could care less if it means seeing that smile of his he probably knew would melt my heart.

He took a step closer to me and lean down, his lips meets my pinkish cheek in a simple yet sweet peck, his voice gently saying, "See you tomorrow, sweet one."

I look up at him and smile slightly wider, my eyes never stops admiring the man I was granted with, "Goodnight, James."

His body slowly turned around from me, the door handle now being held by his hand as he pull it down, unlocking and opening the previously closed door, being greeted by the empty hallway.

At the same time, something was itching in my heart. Something that needed to be relieved but I just couldn't place what is it that my heart needed so bad.

It wasn't until his shoe lands a single step outside of my flat doorframe when my mind brought all my thoughts back to his question earlier, the question if I think he could be the one for me. Then, to the way he confessed his love for me, the way his eyes gaze at a deep layer in me that no other man have ever discovered, the way he touched and cared for me.

I couldn't help it.

"James!" I yelped out, flinching ever so slightly as I was shocked myself by how sudden and loud my voice came out.

The man turns around quickly, a look of concern plasteres on his face, "What did I do?!—"

His sentence failed to come out as I cut them off quick by wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down, my lips attatched onto his while I drag him back into my flat, my leg kicking the door closed behind us. "I'm ready.." I mumble against his lips.

It must've took him awhile to process what's happening, but then I feel his arms wrap themselves around my waist, tight, pulling me flushed against his body as our lips move against the other's, the warmth of our bodies mixing in a lustful heat.

Our bodies moved on their own, his legs leading mine to walk further into my flat, all while still locked in the passionate kiss.

Every now and then, my back would bump into several walls we passed along the way to my bedroom, our lips never faltering in their move, the heat only increasing between our bodies.

It wasn't long until we reach into my bedroom, his feet kicking the door shut behind us as he gently lay me down on my bed, his bigger body hovering over my own as his lips slowly leave mine.

James' blue eyes gaze upon my body, my chest heaving up and down from how much breath he took from me just by one passionate kiss that felt like it lasted a century, which however still isn't long enough.

His hand held mine close to his face, his lips now pressing onto the skins of my palm, the facial hair covering his chin tickling my palm a little. Nevertheless, my eyes are fixated on him and distracted by how beautiful he look, taking care of me so gently.

My hand slowly cup his cheek and stroke his skin with the pad of my thumb, my eyes meet his as he press one last kiss to my other hand.

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” He ask in a soft voice, a big contrast to the one I usually hear him use to sing on the radio and records. “We really don’t have to..”

With deep breaths, I slowly exhale a shaky breath and force a soft smile for him. “My heart long for yours, James.. as much as my body long to be close to yours forever..”

A small happy grin appear on his lips as he sit up straight again, “Whatever you want, sweet girl.”

He whisper as his hand reached up and touch my red and warm cheeks, his face inching close and closer by second as his lips slowly find it’s way to mine, our lips locking and rubbing against one another in yet antother soft kiss.

Although this time, his other hand was busy travelling down my body, reaching the end of my shirt and slipping his hand in, his palm laying flat on my stomach, the feeling of his cold fingertips sending goosebumps on my arms.

"May I?" He asked, now holding the hem of my shirt and tugging on it lightly.

It only took one nod from me before he slip it off my body in a swift action, the sight of my bare body now in full display for him, the only thing covering my torso being my bra.

Which later on I find him unclasping as well, leaving my breasts to be revealed.

I never knew people's eyes actually do this in real life until I saw how his eyes actually sparkles with admiration towards my revealed torso, the blue in his eyes becoming slightly darker. "Shit.. you're a goddess.."

He mumbled as his hand caress the new revealed skins, my back arching ever so slightly at the feeling of his rough hands.

"Please don't stop.." I whined out, as embarrassing as it is to let out such noise like that. After all, I doubt I won't be letting out even more embarrassing noises later tonight.

His fingers then took a trip down to my pants, two of them hooking around the waistband while he gazes back up at me again, searching cautiously for any look of hesitation or regret in my face in case I wanted to stop.

Which of course, I didn't.

Seeing through my eyes like a window to my heart, he knew he was doing the right thing when he slowly pull down my pants along with my lace panties.

The lump in my throat became hard to swallow the moment the two last fabrics covering my body was tossed aside to the floor, abandoned and revealing my thighs along with my virgin cunt, not touched by any man at all. At least, until tonight that is.

Slowly, both of his hands place themselves on my knees and spreads my thighs apart, giving him a full sight of what he'd be taking care of tonight, my glistening folds enchanting him to take this further.

But he knew better than to rush me on my first time.

"Can I touch you?"

The way he ask for permission warms my heart, cause he knew damn well by the way I was already squirming a little that I was desperate for him.

"Please do.."

And so he did.

His fingers took a trip up and down my thighs, his lips pressing a kiss on my thigh, dangerously close to my heat that I can feel his fucking heavy breath right against my folds, sending a wave of shock up my body.

Yet the shock was nothing compared to when his fingers lightly graze up and down my folds, the light yet intimate touch only increasing the arousing feeling of lust that's burning in my heart like a flame.

His thumb was on my clit by the time he start rubbing gentle circles on it, a gasp leaving my lips at the feeling. I never knew it would feel like this. Yet it was all only his thumb, let alone what it would feel later on..

While his thumb continued to give love to my clit, two of his fingers find their way up and down my folds before slowly slipping past them, his digits entering my tight pussy.

I gasp even louder, my hand flying to my mouth to prevent any more sinful noises leaving my lips. But the way his fingers slowly pump into me did not help. At all.

"Fuck, you're so tight... so.. wet.." He muttered out, his fingers moving deeper yet gently into me, stretching out my insides as he knew just how to move his fingers properly, making the sweetest noises come out of the back of my throat every single time. “You doing alright up there? Does it hurt?”

My eyes look down at him, his lips on my thigh while his hand takes good care of my pussy, “A- a little but.. it feels..” I gasped out a moan, cutting myself off before continuing my words, “..good… so good…” I breathed out, my head thrown back as my eyes flutter close with how much pleasure those devils of fingers he have can make.

Those two digits of him moves so slow yet so nicely, my squishy walls hugging his fingers tightly, there’s not a single doubt they’d be soaked with my wetness by the time they leave my pussy. Not to mention how much wetter I got from the circles he’s rubbing on my clit, only going faster as time fly.

”James..”

Just then, he actually did slip those two damn fingers out of my pussy, causing me to be a whining mess, in need to release the tight knot in my stomach, my body squirming around and grasping onto the bedsheets.

My whines stopped the moment I see him take off his shirt, the toned torso he owns becoming visible to my eyes, encouraging that same flaming lust in me. I can only watch as he start unbuckling his belt.

Our eyes met when he toss his belt aside, "Listen.." He started in a quiet voice, "If you want to stop... just tell me, okay?" The genuine care in his voice was no doubt.

With a nod of my head, he took it as a permission to continue. That's when both his pants and boxers fall to the ground, leaving me with the sight of his hard cock, standing proudly before me.

A small gasp leave the back of my throat, my lips parting open in amaze of his not-so-disappointing size, my mind cannot comprehend how something like that would fit my hole.

"...You trust me?"

"I do, I really do.."

James smiles softly at me as he slowly gets on the bed, his bare body hovering over mine as his hands gently runs up and down my skin, which soon stops and fixated on holding both of my hips, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on my skin while his lips press a soft kiss upon my forehead, my cheek, and my shoulder.

One of his hands went down to grab his cock, leading it towards my folds. My breath hitched the moment I feel his tip brushing against the entrance of my pussy.

His eyes yet again meet mine for what felt like the hundred times tonight, then... I feel him slowly enter me.

I yelp, my hands flying to his back. A wince was pulled out of me when he slowly push more of his length into me. The width of his cock was stretching out my walls, causing more wince to escape me.

"Hurts?" He whisper softly, kissing my hair.

"The fuck do you think..?" I winced out, nails digging into the skin of his back. "B-but.. don't stop.. please.."

A soft chuckle leave his lips as he slowly pushes more of his member, all while holding my body in his arms, chest to chest. "I'll be gentle.. promise.."

By the time he starts filling me up with all of his length, the aching in me starts to fade away, being replaced by a nicely overwhelming sense of pleasure. My winces turns into moans when my body relax and give in to his thrusts.

James stayed still in me for a while, letting my walls stretch and adjust to the new feeling of his cock in me, his lips never stopped kissing around my face, making me feel as loved as possible.

After awhile, I softly whisper into his ear, "James..?"

"Mm?"

"Please move..."

I never thought two simple words like that would be able to deliver even more pleasure towards my way. Cause the moment he slowly starts thrusting into me, a gasp leave my throat and my legs wrap themselves around his waist.

James grunted as he feel my walls clenching around his girth, his thrusts were slow and gentle, yet enough to pull out the dirties sounds from us.

My nails were digging real deep into his skin, no doubt leaving marks later. But I just had to hold onto him, or else I'll most likely crumble into pieces from how good he makes me feel.

His hands guided my hips to move against his own, accelerating his thrusts ever so slightly, but not too fast. "Fuuck... so tight.." He muttered out, shaking his head, causing a single strand of his blond hair to fall out of place and in front of his eye.

The new speed was gentle enough for me, but fast enough to make me lose all the dignity I had just a second ago.

"James..!" I moaned out, my back arched while my head was thrown back, endless cycle of moans coming out of me.

"Too much?—"

"More!"

"You- you sure—"

"Please!!" My fingernails scratched down his back, causing him to let out a loud groan from the somewhat pleasuring pain my nails caused him.

My eyes widens when he actually did fasten his speed in his thrusts, but still somehow able to keep it gentle.

When I look up, I see how much James was enjoying this, how much love he put into his thrusts, how genuine he is with me. His eyes gazes right into mine.

My walls starts to clench around his girth while that same knot returns to my stomach, "I.. I think I.." I couldn't find the right words to utter out of my trembling lips.

"C'mon, princess.. release with me.." He whispers, his hand reaching back to hold mine, his lips yet again placing sweet kisses on my skin. I watch as our hands fit perfectly well together.

Then, with one last final thrust of his cock.. I let out a moan of his name, my eyes rolled back while I feel liquid gushing out of my hole.

James pulled out of me quickly all of a sudden, his hand flew to his cock and start pumping up and down his length, groans and curses of his filling my ears. "F-fuck.. shit.. fuck fuck!"

White streaks of cum shoots out of the tip of his cock, flying straight to my stomach while he lets out all of his release, my own cum gathered on the sheets underneath my legs.

My chest rises up and down, I look up at him with wide eyes as I grab onto his body and pulled him close to me, wrapping every limbs of mine around his bigger body, breathing heavily into his ear while his own heavy breaths fills my ear.

"I love you. I love you so so much. Don't leave me.." I whisper into his ear, a slight panic in my voice as I realize the man I'm holding actually is the right man for me. The man that have a deep connection with me, our hearts and souls tied together in an invisible string all these years we haven't met each other.

"My heart is yours."

His voice whispers into my ear, a melody of love I'd cherish forevermore.

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Press tour

Jack Champion x Actress reader || m.list

Summary : You and Jack have been on a press tour for a few weeks as scream vi was just released. An interview with MTV leads to the realization someone's in love

Word count 1.6k

Tag list: @chaethewriter @demausbreaux

Warning: spoilers for scream vi

It was the last interview of the day. Answering fan questions with Jack for MTV. Both of you were tired and ready to call it a day. As you sat down, the producer came over to explain how it works. "So what will happen I will read you guys the question, answer however long you want keep it flowing simple easy and your done" the costume director came over fixing Jack's clothes and your hair was being fixed.

"What do you say after this wanna get food?" You couldn't turn your head, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him staring at you. A soft blush came to your cheeks as you hummed a yes. Satisfied with your answer, he turned back "good"

"Alright, we're on in 5, 4, 3" the producer stood behind the camera as they finished the countdown.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n," you waved and smiled at the camera.

"I'm Jack champion, and we are here with MTV to answer fan questions about Screamvi." he winked at the camera.

'What's your favorite memory while filming scream?'

Jack held a bright smile on his face as he flashed through all the memories of you and the other cast members on set. As you both sat there making comments about how hard it was to choose, Jack was the first to settle on his favorite.

"I would have to say my favorite memories would be when- and well spoilers if you haven't seen it yet- but umm definitely the whole wiping the knife in sync with Liana" you watch him in awe as he explained it was so satisfying yet hard to film. "Overall, it was just very fun to experience the whole scream and ghostface." he turned towards you after he rambled on, a soft blush creeped on his cheeks as he realized.

"You're adorable." You turned to the camera, but your body was still facing Jack, "I would have to say the frat party. There was this scene that we filmed. I don't know if it will ever see light- but it was Chad he was hyping up Ethan to talk to a girl. Which is in the movie - but there's a snippet where we see Ethan actually trying to make the moves on Scarlett, my character look at him so confused because she sees Chad behind him jumping up and down like a little school girl."

"Who are you close with on set?

You both laughed as you thought about the times the cast would just hang out and mess around. The first to come to your mind was Jack. You guys were and are always attached to each others hip. There were many times when filming went late, and the amount of energy that went into filming had finally caught up to both of you.

Mason had found both you and Jack sleeping on the apartment couch while they were filming the "core four scenes" you laid on the inside while Jack laid halfway on you. Mason saw a blanket on the end and just threw it over you two. But what you don't know is Jack woke up and saw Masons' actions. He smiled and saw Mason giving him a thumbs up.

He felt you move underneath him, worried you'd wake up he stayed still. Mason already walked away, and Jack was slowly falling back asleep, his arm laced around your waist as he laid on you. Your arm laid over his back as if you were trying to pull him close if possible.

"I would say y/n, we spent a lot of time together on set and off when we weren't filming," he felt himself get warm, his ears slowly turning red. Shifting in his seat, he made eye contact with you and saw the soft smile you always wore. The one he loved, the one that means he had your full attention.

"That's a good point. There were days they called us in, but we didn't film anything. We were just there to be there if they needed us. So that resulted in us hanging around set trying to find stuff to do. " You saw Jack in the corner of your eye messing with the hem of his shirt, something he always did when anxious.

Your eyes softened at the sight of him, his curls loosely sat on his head, some falling in his eyes. The freckles that were sprinkled around his face - shit. You were madly in love with him! How could you not be? He's a gentleman. He pays attention he's funny he's sweet, he's caring - he's Jack.

"Are you guys aware that many of the fan ship both of your characters together, as well as you in real life?"

Your face grew a shape of red so fast, giggling you quickly jumped in before anything could be said. "I think it's adorable to see what the Fandom creates."

Jack was still on the idea of people out there saying you guys should be together. Well, they aren't wrong. You and Jack are basically a couple, just without the tile. He liked you a lot, and he liked the idea of being with you. But his heart sank at the thought of you not feeling the same way.

Without thinking, Jack quickly jumped in, "I agree with the fans. Maybe in a different universe or something, uh, you know, " an awkward laugh went through his body as he just realized what he had said.

You, as well, very confused awkwardly laughed. On the other side of the camera, the producer motioned for you to do an outtro. Smiling at the camera, you said your name as well as Jack's as he was stuck in thoughts.

"Screamvi is out now in theater." You blew a kiss to the camera, and Jack did a little wave.

"CUT" beautiful guys, we'll get makeup and costumes to take you back, and you guys are free.

Awkwardly, you stood up, taking your mic as well as Jack. "Did you still want to get some food?" He couldn't even look at you. He was so red. Thank god his hair covered his face for once.

"Yeah, uhh, that sounds good. I'm just gonna go change and meet you at the car. " Before any more, he could be said he sped off towards his dressing room.

Twenty minutes passed by, and he finally pulled himself together. He paced I'm his room debating is he wanted to tell you about you feelings.

His stomach was doing flips as he was walking to you. His hands became clammy as he got closer. He saw you standing on the wall looking through your phone. Do it while we're out.

You looked up and saw him walking towards you. He looked like a lost puppy. Looking around, trying to understand where he was, the dark brown of his eyes found yours, and for a second, you saw a calmness take over his body.

"Ready to go?" He nodded his head, and you made your way to the car.

-

There was a cafe on the corner near your place that both of you loved. It was your favorite place. "What you gonna get?" You continued looking at the list as he looked at you. He noticed the shine in your hair, the glow in your skin, the way you bit your lip as you debated what to eat.

"I think I'm just gonna get the club sandwich. Something simple and easy. What about you?" He looked down to remember what he even chose.

"The pasta sounds pretty good. I might just get that." Satisfied with his answer, he closed the menu. The waitress came out and took our order. Food was out in a matter of minutes.

Once the bill was paid, you made your way to your apartment. You were raving on about a story on your upcoming role in a movie, while Jack was stuck in his head.

"Y/n, I need to tell you something." Stopping in the middle of the stairway to your door, you looked at him confused.

"You finally gonna tell me what's been going on in that pretty head of yours?" He smiled. He knew you noticed it.

"Listen, I love you, and I love our friendship - but this," he motioned between you and him. "I want more. I want it all. I want to hold your hand. I want to hug you. I want to be able to look at you and adore you - well, even though I do that already - but god y/n, I'm like in love with you. "

You stood there mouth ajar as he just confessed his love you you. Jack champion said he loved you. A wide smile took display on your face as you stepped forward. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him into you, and your lips met his.

They were so soft, yet chapped. It took him a second yo realize what was happening, but the second it clicked, he grabbed your waist, pulling your body into his. Smiling into the kiss, your hands made their way to his hair.

He groaned as your hand pulled on it, and your lungs burned as the kiss continued. You felt him pulling away but wanted to keep going. His eyes hazed with lust as he looked at you. His lips swollen and red, your matching his.

"I want it all as well, trust me. I love you," he reached up and tucked a hair behind your ear and kissed you again.

[nightlyrequiem]

How would Valeria be finding out her girlfriend has been transfem all along. (Like no surgeries done but still pretty feminine looking.) After being together for a while it comes up when Valeria asks why they'd never wanted to go further in bed.(sorry if this is bad I've never done a request before😓)

I've never written something like this before so I hope it's okay! Had to do a little research because I wasn't sure what the difference between transfem and transgender was so I hope it's accurate.

Also, obligatory But I'm a Cheerleader reference.

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Minor Angst, Happy Ending, Transfem!Reader

Night Blooming Flowers

You're going over to your girlfriend's tonight. You layer on the mascara and bat your eyes, loving the length. You give yourself one last once over, looking at yourself from all angles. One last application of lip gloss and you're ready to go. You turn away and grab your purse.

Valeria is waiting for you in her car when you step outside, bathed by the warm sun. The door to your next-door neighbor's house starts to open and you hurry up to her car. Getting in before he can come out and see you. Today is a good day and you really don't feel like being bothered by some old man who can't mind his business. He's already made himself a problem as is. You never invite Valeria over because of him.

Valeria smiles at you when you sit down, planting a warm hand firmly on your thigh. No words are spoken as she puts the car into drive. The radio hums quietly while she drives. Life goes on outside, people running errands, children playing in the streets. Your smile fades a little at the sight of an armed man giving away a balloon to a child. Barely five feet away is a sheet-covered body. You look away. Out of sight, out of mind. The cartel is doing good things for this city, you tell yourself. Valeria is doing good things. You shove those thoughts away. No need to spoil your mood by thinking too hard.

Valeria's home is lovely. Pillard architecture and symmetrical gardens. The driveway is made of fine cobblestone. She gets out first and opens your door for you.

"Thank you." You say, kissing her cheek. She has guards posted up outside. You've come to learn that Valeria has some issues with paranoia. Though with her occupation it may not be so unwarranted. You ignore the weird look one of them gives you and hope Valeria didn't see.

Valeria insists that you relax while she cooks but soon enough, you're in the kitchen with her. Helping to cut up carrots and peppers.

"That's not how you do it." You scold. Gently grabbing the paring knife from her hands.

"Not how you do it?" She scoffs. "My mother taught me how to cook. That's how you're supposed to do it."

You hold the pepper down and slice down with an arch. "My mother taught me the correct way." You say. Shooting her a playful smile.

She comes up behind you and grabs your hips. 

"Didn't realise I was dating such a meticulous chef." She murmurs into your ear. You giggle but stiffen when her hands start to dip lower down your thighs. Before she feels anything you don't want her feeling yet, you pull away with the excuse that the peppers are done being cut and can be put into their bowl.

Valeria adds all the ingredients together once the two of you finish preparing them. She grabs your hand and leads you to the living room, setting a timer on her phone.

"Let's get a movie picked out while we wait." She says. She plops down on her couch and you join her. Moving under her arm to rest halfway on her chest, your feet curled up under you comfortably. "What were you thinking?" She asks, moving through the options on screen.

"Uh... I'm not sure." You reply. "Have you ever seen But I'm a Cheerleader?"

Valeria's fingers absently run over your side.

"I haven't, what's that one about?" She murmurs.

"A cheerleader gets sent to conversion camp but it's incredibly exaggerated and all the people there are basically sleeping together." You tell her.

"Sounds incredibly sophisticated." She remarks dryly. You roll your eyes,

"It's a romcom it's not supposed to be sophisticated." You reply. Valeria smiles but doesn't reply. Adhering to your suggestion, she puts on the movie. 'Chick Habit' by April March plays out while the movie cuts from credits to shots of cheerleaders in slow motion.

All is well for fifteen minutes. Valeria is warm and soft and you're happy to be laid up against her. Once again, her hand starts to wander. You aren't sure how to get out of this without making it obvious. You grab her wrist when her hand gets too close to your groin. The atmosphere between you now becoming tense. she slowly retracts her hand and lays it in her lap. You're left feeling guilty for always turning her down.

"... I'm sorry." You murmur, craning your head to look at her.

"It's fine." She says. Not looking at you. "If you aren't ready that's okay."

You bite your lip. It's not like you aren't ready. There's nothing you'd like to do more than to be intimate with your girlfriend. You just don't know how she'll feel when she finds out you're different to what she thought.

You let the silence linger. Working up the courage to speak. You love Valeria and you don't want to lose her. 

"I'm transfem." You say quietly. "I haven't had any surgeries." Valeria goes still, making your heart thump painfully. she turns her head to look at you and you avoid her gaze. Worried over what you might see.

"What is that?" She asks carefully. "Like transgender?"

"... Similar, I guess." You murmur. There's no going back now. "I was born with male parts but I don't feel like a male."

"Oh." She says. "But you're not a guy?" 

"No, I've always felt more feminine, I'm still your girlfriend." You reply. Hoping that last part is true. Valeria has been one of the best things to come into your life.

"...Okay." She nods.

You frown. "Okay as in... you don't care or okay as in 'I acknowledge what you're telling me.'" You ask nervously, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your finger.

"That's why you never want to sleep with me?" She asks quietly. 

"... Yeah." You nod. 

Valeria sighs and pulls you closer. Resting her head on yours.

"I don't care about what's in your pants, mi vida." She says. "You're my girlfriend, my person."

You melt into her with relief. You grab one of her hands and squeeze, feeling her squeeze back. "This won't change anything though." You say. "Don't treat me differently now that you know. Please."

"Never." Valeria promises. She breathes you in. Then pauses. You look at her when she sits up. "Do you smell that?" She asks, frowning. You furrow your brows and sniff the air.

Something's burning. A few seconds after the thought registers the smoke alarm goes off.

"Shit!" Valeria curses. Jumping off the couch. You follow her into the kitchen, seeing smoke billow from the oven.

"I thought you set a timer?" You exclaim in distress. Valeria hurriedly takes out the charred remains of your supper. The both of you peer down at it.

"I did." She says. "I think I set the oven too high."

"Did your mom teach you that too?" You quip.

Valeria gently shoves your shoulder. 

You grab her arm and pull her away.

"It's okay." You say. "We'll order takeout, next time we do this I'll do the cooking."

Valeria rolls her eyes and leans into you. "Okay little Ms. Perfect. We're missing the movie." You sit back on the couch. Cuddled up under a soft blanket just in time to witness Megan and Graham's first kiss.

[pointycorgiears]

Caught Between The Swells

Here's some quick and light angsty bughawk before I get on a plane today! :D

***********************

Ever since Mihawk returned to Karai Bari from a recent trip, Buggy knew something was up. The swordsman was always quiet and brooding, but since coming home a few days ago, it was like a little black cloud followed the man wherever he would go.

Mihawk snapped at Buggy after dinner last night. That would not usually be nothing new, but this particular outburst had more teeth than what Mihawk normally bothered with. Hell, he even snapped at Crocodile when he was asked what was wrong, causing the taller warlord to stammer out an uncharacteristic apology. The two just decided to let him be, as Mihawk clearly did not want to talk about it. He was barely sleeping. He was eating lightly. He didn't want to be bothered. His bad mood was palpable, and yet still, Buggy wondered why.

Buggy doubted he was ever going to get an answer. So he sat in bed in his personal tent, having just finished brushing his hair and clearing the make up from his face. He was dozing off with a book in his lap, his head beginning to lilt to the side. He jerked halfway upright when he thought he heard soft footsteps outside his canvas door, but relaxed again when nothing but silence followed. He was aware enough to mark his page and put the book away, one hand floating to turn out the light near the bed...

knock knock

...and he paused at the quiet knock on the wooden post that made up his doorway. "Uhh...yes?" he called out. The thick canvas that covered the entryway ruffled a bit before it was gently pulled back and two yellow eyes pierced through the dark on the other side.

Buggy swallowed and raised his brow. "Hawkeyes?" This was unusual. Mihawk never came to Buggy's tent. In fact, he always gave the clown the widest berth possible, especially the past few days. Buggy felt a little on edge. "Is there something you need?"

Mihawk took that as permission to enter. There were two things Buggy immediately noticed about him. One, he was dressed in what Buggy guessed was his sleepwear: a loose white shirt and maroon floral printed sweatpants, which Buggy had never him dressed in until now. And second, Mihawk's eyes darted away from his the second he walked in the tent. They stared at the ground, brow furrowed like something was troubling him. He walked silently into the room, barefoot, his steps hardly audible. He stopped at the bedside, continuing to stare at the floor. Buggy got the feeling that Mihawk did not want to look at him.

"Umm," Buggy murmured, if only to break the awkward silence. He tried asking again, "Hawk, do you need something?"

There was a strange shaky breath before Mihawk finally spoke. "I need to apologize. My behavior was inappropriate earlier. I am sorry."

Silence again. Buggy waited a moment, confused by everything, until he replied. "Huh? It's okay! You were stressed out about, uhh, something. I understand!"

"No, you do not," Mihawk muttered.

"Uhhh," Buggy remained confused. "It's okay, Hawk. Really!"

Mihawk finally raised his eyes. Buggy blinked in shock at what he thought was a flash of despair in the usually sharp golden stare. Like a crack marring the hardened gaze. Mihawk looked away again and his body shifted as if to turn to leave, but Buggy stopped him.

"Mihawk! Sit down here!"

Mihawk twitched his head at the order, but obeyed after some fidgeting. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs hanging over and wound tight, ready to spring up and dash away if necessary. His hands folded over and wrung each other between his knees. Just as it was the last few days, Mihawk would just not relax. But now Buggy had an opportunity to find out why.

"Hawk, what happened out there while you were gone? You haven't been yourself since you came back! What's got into you?"

Mihawk gave a heavy sigh. "Buggy...if I hadn't returned, what would you have done?"

"Wha-if you hadn't...What do you mean if you hadn't returned? Of course you would return! You always come back."

"But what if this time I did not?"

"..."

Mihawk turned his slightly to look at him. "Would you have noticed?"

Buggy blinked, incredulous. "Are you crazy? Of course I would have noticed! It'd be hard to not notice having only Croc breathing down my neck everyday! Though, not being worried about getting sliced up everyday might be nice and take some adjustment, heh! Oh.."

Buggy immediately knew he said the wrong thing when Mihawk glanced away from him. He looked...hurt. As if the man had any right to be hurt by his statement in the first place, Buggy inwardly scoffed. But still, it was strange.

"Hawk. Seriously. If you hadn't come back, we would try to contact you. If that failed, we would send a search party. You know Croc has eyes and ears everywhere. We would find you! And we would help you if you needed it!"

Mihawk stared off into space. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" Buggy was losing his patience. He also just wanted to go to bed already. "That's what we would do! We're Cross Guild! We need you here! The Navy better watch their backs if they ever try anything against you, although I'm sure you could handle them in the first place, so I don't know why you're so worried-"

"It wasn't the Navy."

"Huh?" Buggy looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

Mihawk sighed again. "I ran into a massive storm on the way back from Kuraigana. One that wasn't predicted. It was the Grand Line simply raging in its fury. I had no choice but to ride it out. The wind tore my sail and as I tried to preserve what was left, I was knocked from my boat. I was caught between the swells and realized in my urgency to tie my sails, I had forgotten the safety line. I was in the water, and my vessel was being carried away from me..."

Buggy stared at him wide-eyed. This was the most Mihawk had talked since returning, and the story was frightening. He knew Mihawk sailed alone, on a tiny boat, with no one else to help him. To be caught in a storm must be terrifying for anyone else. "How-How did you get out of it?"

"A giant wave came up behind me. I aligned myself with it and let it carry me as close to my vessel as possible, enough that I could swim my way back to it. I chased it and I fought the water until felt like I couldn't breathe anymore. By some miracle, a rope drifted into my hand and I pulled myself aboard. I secured myself to the deck and the next thing I remember is waking up to a blue sky and a calm sea. I made it through."

He turned to Buggy again and that same despair was still present. "But what if I didn't? What if I was lost at sea? I would have failed Cross Guild. I would have failed myself. I would have failed Roronoa. I would have failed you, Emperor Buggy. All because of a stupid mistake of forgetting my safety line. You would have been justified not to search for me."

Buggy suddenly knew what was wrong. He knew why Mihawk was in such a foul mood, he knew why he was hurting. He knew that look on the swordsman's face. Mihawk was scared. And not just from the idea of failure, but from the fact that Death had laced its icy grip on his soul for a short moment and had nearly dragged him down under the waves. Completely out of his control, with no one to rescue him. Pure hopelessness. Sheer terror. Buggy knew what that felt like. Impel Down had made sure he would never forget that feeling.

Somehow, he was sitting closer to Mihawk than he remembered being, and he took the swordsman in a tight hug. He held him from behind for a moment, leaning his head on Mihawk's shoulders. He could feel Mihawk tense at the touch, but eventually relax and sag into Buggy's embrace.

"We would have searched for you. You're part of the crew now," Buggy muttered into the white shirt. "You're part of my crew. I am so happy you made it home safe. Everyone is."

"I feel so ashamed," Mihawk said under a shaky breath. "I am better than this!"

"But you are not better than the ocean," Buggy quickly countered. "The Sea rules all of us in the end. Sometimes she reminds us of that, as Roger used to say. It's nothing to be ashamed about. I'm just glad you're safe."

"That is...comforting to know, I guess."

Buggy raised his head, releasing him. He stared at Mihawk for a moment, who gazed sadly at him before darting his eyes away. This poor wretch really thinks no one cares about him, Buggy pitied. He sighed and scooted back across the bed. He pulled the covers back and disconnected an arm to tug at Mihawk's own. "Come here," he ordered.

Mihawk didn't put up a fight. Buggy wasn't sure he currently had the strength to. He pulled Mihawk into bed with him, motioning him to lay down. Buggy settled in close beside, positioning his arms around him, wrapping him tight against his side and pushing Mihawk's head diwn on top of his chest. He stroked his hair with one floating hand and rubbed his back with the other.

Mihawk was frozen against him, every muscle tense and unsure. "It's okay to lie like this? Here with you?"

"You're part of my crew. It's alright to cuddle a little bit." Buggy pressed his cheek into the top of his head to drive his point further, squeezing him tighter.

The tension slowly eased and Buggy felt him sink into the bed and his side. The shallow breaths became deeper and Buggy closed his eyes to the soft repetitive sound. He felt himself begin to drift.

Then Mihawk shuttered with a sad whimper.

Buggy found himself alert again from the odd noise. Odd in that he'd never heard such a thing emanate from the swordsman before. Buggy ran his fingers through the black hair, gently scratching the scalp. He nuzzled Mihawk with his nose as he whispered, "It's okay, you're safe now. You're home. You don't have to go anywhere alone again."

He didn't hear any other strange noises after that and his hand floated over to turn the light out...

...In the morning, he let Mihawk sleep as he quietly got ready for the day. He made sure the other remained safely tucked in the blankets of his bed before heading out.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

The Littlest Lelouch

Characters: Clavis Lelouch, unnamed wife, OC (baby), brief cameos

Rating: pg13 (?)

Genre: Saccharine fluff, dash of angst, humor (sfw)

WC: 1,296

Warnings: Mentions of battle/blood/death (none happen on-screen), mentions of pregnancy and birth (none graphic), afab oc/insert and female pronouns, (are babies a tw?), humor of the aerin variety, not proofread, potential minor Clavis route spoilers?

Request?: Yes (currently open? also yes. pls see pinned first!)

Summary: As it would happen, having to work with the bloody beast means often having to pick up after said beast, or even indulge in the sins of war. Unfortunately for Rhodolite palace’s resident mischief maker, the call of his duty could not have come at a worse time.

A/N: Apologies if it is a bit OOC or would benefit from better pacing, I haven't read Clavis' route in a bit and he's a little tricky to nail at times without me getting cliché. (Sorry this one isn't gender neutral, for the folks familiar with my general fluff.) I worked to the best of my current ability, as the request was a bit vague. Feel free to stop by and request again sometime, nonnie!

          Clavis’ wife was due soon, expecting their first child amidst the frills and flowers that come with Spring. And excited they were to welcome the newest member of the Lelouch gang when Clavis suddenly receives summons for a round table meeting. It isn’t until much later that he returns, brows furrowing as he walks through the doors to the couple’s shared room at the palace.

         “Dearie me,” Clavis starts, running a singular gloved hand through his lilac locks, boring holes into the wall as he figured out how to best break this to his very pregnant wife. No amount of trying to haggle with the court would get him out of this, much as he tried. Hesitantly, Clavis’ wife pipes up, wanting to console her husband who seems he may fray at the seams any moment.

         “What’s wrong, Clavis? Cat got your tongue?” She jokes, waddling over best as she can, causing Clavis to fret and meet her halfway. He is far too overprotective sometimes, she feels, but understands he is that way out of sheer love for her.

         “Council was held today.” Clavis starts, receiving an acknowledging hum from his wife. At his uncharacteristic pause, she nods, gently trying to urge him to continue his train of thought. “I will have to be away for a while,” and in true Clavis fashion, he tries to soften the blow the best way he knows how.

         “Oh, but don’t you both go missing me too much. I know just how to console my lovely, dearest wife-”

         “Clavis.” If he insists on acting fine, then she will shoulder it for them both and allow him to save face.. this time. “I’ll miss you too, darling. Please come home safe.” With eyes that look like he is trying his best to hold back tears, Clavis dons his most convincing smile, gently pulling his wife in as closely as he comfortably can by her waist.

         “I knew you couldn’t resist your handsome husband,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to her lips, fitting every apology known to man in the sincere way Clavis cherishes her so. Pulling away, he rests his head atop hers, cursing his fate and drasted brother for nearly ruining yet another special occasion in his life.

…

         As the fateful day comes, Clavis parts from his beautiful wife, reassuring her he will be fine just as much as she does him. Riding off atop his royal steed, he waves farewell without looking back, steeling himself and all of his best inventions to end this damn thing as early as physically possible. In his plan, he hopes to lure out the enemies and confuse them with his myriad of (smoke) bombs, so that he and Chevalier may be able to finish with time to spare.

         “If I miss my child’s birth, this time I really will kill you,” Clavis threatens. At this, Chevalier simply scoffs and rides away. Cyran shakes his head, a mundane ordeal when it comes to these two.

         As fate would have it, back at the castle, just a few days after the second and third prince had set out to quell skirmishes along the borders, his wife goes into labor. It would seem the third prince’s child was not a very patient one, wishing to meet everyone as quickly as possible. Panic spreads, the early arrival of the baby having the maids rush to get everything together shortly after her water breaks. Though her husband is not present in body, he is present with her in spirit, and in all of the reading they had done together to better prepare themselves for their little one’s arrival.

         After many painful hours, a cry is heard, and thus the third prince of Rhodolite and his wife welcome a tiny baby Lelouch into the world. Hardly visible for how light a color it is, there are the smallest tufts of the signature lilac stands upon her head, and piercing eyes of gold. Having already decided upon possible names beforehand, his wife holds baby Felicia (a tribute to Clavis’ late mother Leticia) in her arms, exhausted but moved to tears over the life they created, together.

         It isn’t until two full days later, that Clavis returns home. The congratulations he receives upon his arrival is both the best and worst of news, for he is grateful they are both alive and well, but terribly distraught to have missed the birth of his first child (and being unable to support his wife as she always does him). He quickly stops by the baths, not wanting to greet them with blood still on his person.

         Gingerly, Clavis makes his way to where he finds both of his Lelouch girls, heart caught in his throat at the sight. Upon his arrival, their daughter is waving her hands around, trying to grab at her mother while she rocks her gently and sings. The gentle smile on her face brings back bittersweet memories, and an ache for a loved one he will never see again. He knows how loved their child will be, even in the most cursed depths of the royal court, and vows to never allow a hair on their heads harm, lest their enemies summon the nightmare that is Lelouchian fury above them. (Assuming they can read the warning letter.)

         “Welcome home, Clavis.” Having spotted him out of the corner of her eye, Clavis’ wife brandishes her grin his way, the glow apparent from what he could only describe as “the light of a thousand- no, a million- no, a hundred million suns!”

          “And say hi to your daddy, Felicia,” she coos, patting the baby’s back gently as she sits up further in bed. “But please don’t learn from his example.” Clavis theatrically slaps a hand over his chest, looking exasperated, as if he hasn’t the faintest clue what she could be referring to.

         “What better example would she have to learn from, aside from my most lovely wife?” Clavis sits at the edge of the bed by her side, leaning in to place a kiss to her forehead, lingering at her scent. “Would you rather she learn from one of my brothers?” At her grimace, he laughs, husky and warm and everything deliciously Clavis.

         “I was hoping Sariel could tutor her the way he did me,” she jokes, enjoying the look Clavis shoots her. “I’m kidding, love. Honestly.” He is still grimacing when she stifles her laugh. “Would you like to hold her?”

         Nothing in the world could have prepared Clavis for the reaction of finally getting to hold his beautiful, delicate baby girl in his arms… only to have her immediately begin wailing. Clavis tries everything he can to get her to stop crying, but she is only finally comforted by the feel and smell of mom, who she has become most acquainted with in her two shorts days on this Earth. A true connoisseur knows how to relish in the saltiest of tears, but these in particular left a sting in his heart. But no matter, he won over his wife’s heart, and he’ll win over his daughter’s affections. Clavis understands the appeal of being in his wife’s arms, he must admit, only slightly jealous of all her attention not being on him now.

         And if there’s anything that made Clavis happier than his wedding and the birth of his child, it’s that his little girl would prove to show her affections with signature Lelouch pitfalls. Clavis-patented, Yves-tested, Felicia-approved.

[angelshizuka]

"I honestly think the fandom portrays stolas/blitz better sometimes… like, in fan content and such. Like it’s very similar to marinette/adrien for me, where fans make better shipping content, bc like.. in canon there’s a lot of things where it’s like. They gloss over stuff and/or don’t take advantage of clear opportunities." "We see Fizz and Ozzie being domestic and showing how they work off each other + care about with each other, and with Huskerdust, we’ve already seen them bond over things they have in common Whereas ships like stolitz I think need that kinda stuff a lot. Like, I get the show’s a slow burn, but.. even just little hints of them starting to bond would do a lot, I think"

...Serena there is not a day where I am not exposed to bad takes on the owl/lizard ship. Kill me.

As someone who's done a lot of ML salt in the past, it still feels wrong to me to compare Stolitz to Adrienette like that.

Mainly, because one of the core problems with Miraculous in general is how it's been going on for almost a decade already, with like 131 episodes and 4 specials under it's belt by now (and several more seasons confirmed), but spent so much time dicking around, resetting things to the status quo and having some of the most inconsistent lore and character writing I've seen. So, in their case, yes, it genuinely glossed over things and missed a crapton of opportinities.

But a VERY important difference with Stolitz is how Helluva Boss currently only has 18 finished episodes. They can complain about "missed opportunities" all they want and claim they "glossed over" things when the story is still being told, but that doesn't change the fact this is literally an indie animation show, not to mention literally free to watch, that has had more development in 18 episodes than Miraculous had in more than 10 dozens of episodes.

And can people for the love of Lucifer stop acting like more wholesome equels better. I love wholesome ships as much as the next person, I've got plently of those myself, but at the end of the day I'm a girl with different moods and love me some good complicated "unhealthy" ships and that's the entire point of Stolitz. To show how two people who currently have an unhealthy dynamic, try to work on it and become a so called "wholesome" couple one day, because their love for each other is true and worth fighting for.

Also, I swear, it's literally always the people complaining about "Stolitz taking over the show" that also claim they "haven't gotten enough development" (whoa, it's almost like we're not even halfway through the story yet). Like... these people do realize Stolitz needs screen time and focus to get developed, right!?

[katatty]

Shifting Priorities

Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)

Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD

For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.

Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.

So, plans for my neighbourhoods:

Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner

Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)

Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3

Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only

Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!

The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(

As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)

[noffy96]

Remember me saying a while ago I had a new headcanon for Eclipse and Cygni (Servant Sun ), that was turning into a fic?!

Yeah that was this one. so enjoy nearly 7,000 words of fic because i had a headcanon that didn't want to let me go.

Transformations, Issues and Promises

Chapter 1

Word count: 6,983

Status: complete

Summary:

“An hour or Two?! Moon! We can’t stay like this for two hours, we had plans!”

He hated to agree with Sun, and the way he bristled after seemed to confirm Moon had only rolled his eyes at him.

“You two are fine, no one will bet an eye at this,”

He turned the other two out, trying to school his angry expression into something calming…or neutral at best.

“You haven't blinked this entire time…are your optics frozen?”

or

Cygni and Sun get transformed against their will, Cygni's reaction to it is....bad

Read it on AO3

or read down below

He looked down into the daycare as he got to the top of the stairs. Cygni and Sun were still idly talking before leaving for the mall. Cygni spotted him and waved, he waved back. Then he went into the theatre in search of Earth.

The bag with his knitwork slung loosely by his side. He had surprised himself that he had been able to finish the sweater at all. He just needed Earth's opinion on it before he could give it to Cygni. He raised an eyebrow at the fact that Solar wasn’t behind the theatre desk but thought nothing more of it and went into the theatre room itself.

He frowned, not seeing the giant green animatronic anywhere. Maybe she was running late? It would not be the first time, he rested against one of the chairs. Deciding to play an idle game on his HUD to pass the time. Tugging Idly at the t-shirt he was wearing with his claws. Still felt weird to wear one, but Earth would be happy to see him wear the gift she got him.

He was about halfway through his game of solitaire when he heard an odd sound. It was somewhat dampened. He closed his game and straightened up to pay better attention. Yet it stayed quiet for several seconds. He was about to pull his game out again when there was a different sound, something much louder.

Wondering back toward the theatre doors, he got his answer about halfway, letting out a sigh of annoyance when he recognized it as Sun’s screeching yells at his brother. He was about to turn back around when he realised that Cygni was still there.

Cygni was no stranger to the shouting that could happen between the brothers, but…it couldn’t hurt to check, maybe Earth would find it important to check out anyway. As the shutter opened once more he could finally make out the words.

“MOON, STOP YOUR WHEEZING AND CHANGE US BACK I DO NOT WANT TO BE A DEMON “

“BUT YOU LOOK SO GOOD THOUGH! “

“I DON’T CARE CHANGE ME BACK! “

He signed and rolled his eyes, it was always something, if it wasn’t the portal, I would be an experiment. He glanced down into the daycare. He couldn’t see Sun or Moon, who were likely near the security desk. He couldn’t see Cygni either…that was until he saw a figure standing under the bridge in the shadows of the play structure. He was standing very still,

A little too still...

Panic came over him and his bag slid from his hand landing on the floor with a thud, he jumped over the railing so he could skip one flight of stairs and ran towards the big wooden doors.

When the doors opened, the first thing he saw was Sun, several inches off the ground, with two giant, red bat-like wings flapping angrily, and a red tail swishing around annoyed as hell. He had been obviously yelling at a Moon who was trying to hide his laughter.

The smile dropped from his face once he noticed he had walked in.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could hear your shouting in the fucking theatre, What the hell is going on here”

“None of your business, didn’t you have to go anyway”

He ignored the lunar animatronic, to look for Cygni near the bridge. His non-existing heart shot to his throat as he saw him.

Cygni's eyes were wide, and his eyelights were just two yellow pinpricks. You couldn’t even see that it was its yellow ring just two dots. Cygni also had gained a set of wings that were folded back as far from his body as possible, smaller than Sun’s and instead of red, a dark black. There was a tail hovering in a circle around his legs. Two of his top rays had gotten longer and were now coloured a crimson red.

He rushed forward coming to a stop close to his friend. Who’s gaze didn’t shift, still just staring forward, his hands holding onto his upper arms, claws digging into the paint of his still mechanical arms. He bit back the enormous amount of rage that was pooling up inside of him. Smothering the fire as best as he could, he dropped his voice.

“Cygni? Hey…can you hear me?”

The sun animatronic didn’t move, no indication he was heard at all. It was like he was invisible.

There was a scoffing noise coming from Moon.

“Overprotective much? He is fine, he walked there on his own, probably just embarrassed, which you aint helping with, They should turn back in an hour or two”

It took everything in him to bite down the hot boiling anger that was threatening to make him rip off Moon’s casing. How dare he even imply that he didn’t know his best friend. He signed once hard through his nose, as he tried to ignore it. Cygni is what's important right now, So he focussed on the still scared bot in front of him as he heard Sun behind him

“An hour or Two?! Moon! We can’t stay like this for two hours, we had plans!”

He hated to agree with Sun, and the way he bristled after seemed to confirm Moon had only rolled his eyes at him.

“You two are fine, no one will bet an eye at this,”

He turned the other two out, trying to school his angry expression into something calming…or neutral at best.

“You haven't blinked this entire time…are your optics frozen?”

Still no response, and he was really starting to worry. An ice-cold fear slowly creeps through his chest, and he reaches out a hand trying to stop Cygni from destroying his paint any further.

But as he still got no reaction as he got closer he stopped, not wanting to spook his friend. There was a sound of anxious wings flapping behind him. It looks like the sun animatronic didn’t have full control over his wings, but he had come closer all the same

“Cygni? You okay? “

Still no response, he glanced to the side and saw the same rapid understanding build on Sun’s face. Coming to the same conclusion he had, he rounded on his brother.

“Moon, you gotta change him back now!”

Moon threw his hands up exasperated.

“You two are overreacting, stop crowding him and he’ll be fine. “

The anger was back, engulfing him like a flame and he couldn’t smother it down anymore. Rounding on his heels to glare at the lunar animatronic who was looking unimpressed. Only raising an eyebrow when his rays started to angrily rattle in their housing and steam pluming from his shoulders.

“YOU DENSE FUCKER, HE’S NOT EMBARESSED HE IS CLEARLY FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. “

Moon’s gaze transformed into a hateful glare

“ STOP BEING SO DAMN PROTECTIVE OF HIM, HE CAN MAKE HIS OWN CHOICES”

His teeth snapped harshly at the lunar animatronic, how dare he! How fucking dare he. HE is letting him make his own choices. That’s all he ever wants for Cygni, he fucking knew Moon didn’t believe it. Just because the choices he sees don’t align with his views doesn’t mean they aren’t his own.

“Brother, he is clearly freaking out, just reverse it for him please”

“Not you too Sun”

He was about to step forward, intending to grab the lunar animatronic and drag him to the desk so either he or himself could fix this. But a sound from behind him stopped him, a little burst of static, and he rounded around once more.

Anger already forgotten at the broken sound. There was now oil pooling at the bottom of Cygni’s eyes. Pupils were still little pinpricks and not looking at anything but the wings had started trembling ever so slightly.

“Hey, hey Cygs? It’s alright…”

Taking half a second to debate the choice again, he took one of the shaking hands into his own.

“I’m right here, you see? Are you with me?”

No reaction again, the lunar animatronic was now suspiciously quiet, and Sun’s wings kept flapping anxiously lifting him off the ground even higher.

“Buddy? Can you hear us?”

Sun asked nervously, coming a little closer, but trying not to crowd the other sun model. At least he seemed to have some semblance of a brain.

“Cygs?”

He gently squeezed the hand he was holding. Again nothing

“Dusty?”

The little pinpricks of eyes got a little bigger, just enough to notice. A hesitant squeeze back at his hand. As he heard the rasping voice of Moon mumble confused

“Dusty?”

He held the hand a little tighter.

“You are safe Dusty…promise”

He let his voice drop to something low, in a tone he saved for when they were alone. He fought with his glow as he knew the lunar animatronic behind him was seemingly judging his every move. There was a blink, a single streak of oil dripping down Cygni’s face

“Oh…fuck”

Oh, now the bastard realises that things were fucked.

Shutting down the door on his anger as hard as he could, He kept his gaze locked with Cygni’s and opened his mouth for another reassures but only to be cut off

“C-clips?”

He let out a relieved breath and heard Sun do the same beside him

“Y-yeah, yeah it’s me”

Then finally the far-away look passed, and it seemed like his friend finally. FINALLY saw him.

“S-stop”

Just like that, it was like a bucket of ice had been thrown over him again. Swallowing down the hurt, and carefully not looking at what would be Moon’s very smug face. He nodded and let go of Cygni’s hand,

“N-NO!”

Cygni staggered forward, finally stepping out of the shadows of where he was hiding. Almost falling over his new tail but just about steading himself with a painful winch. Both of Cygni's hands had shot forward and were now desperately holding onto his shirt with a finger and thumb. He could feel the fabric tugging at his collar but that didn’t matter.

What mattered more was the way Cygni was trembling, clearly upset and afraid.

“M-meant…s-stop…this…stop…want it t-to stop…want..want to be me…please…make it stop”

Hearing the near-broken cries, he decided he didn’t give a fuck, and as gently as he could, he wrapped his arms around his friend, tugging him into a hug.

“It’s okay…you’re okay. Got you, I am sure Moon is trying to fix this as we speak”

He growled out the last part as he turned his most hateful glare at the lunar animatronic who was looking a mix of guilty and pissed. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but stopped as he noticed the shakes of Cygni’s body. The guilt grew on his face and turning towards the security desk and typing away. What he didn’t see was the little spots of oil that now appeared on his shirt

He didn’t mind, he would make his friend feel as safe as he could. Even if that meant tabling his desires to rip Moon’s head off his shoulders for another day. Instead, he gave soothing strokes on Cygni’s lower back. Cygni kept shaking, but it felt like he was trying not to cry. To fight the tears that had already escaped.

“Cygni?”

Sun’s voice was soft and worried, and he felt his own glare soften too. He was glad Sun had stood up for Cygni, Still kinda mad that it had taken him so long to notice. But he blamed him a lot less than Moon. He knew how scrambled the processes can get after you get forcibly transformed.

Also, he knew from being in Sun’s head how comfortable Sun was in his own skin and how he hated to have his body altered. So he wasn’t as mad. Cygni still seemed to flinch away from his voice, and to his surprise, Sun took a step back

“Anything I can do to help?”

Cygni stayed quiet, then eventually gave a tiny shrug.

“I understand”

Sun said softly, then those snow-white eyes met his own. Seemingly saying.

‘I know you got him’

An idea came to him.

“Sun, could you keep people out of the daycare….I don’t think Cygni wants anyone else to see him like this…Earth was supposed to meet up with me….so she might come by…and as much as I know she wouldn’t make a big deal about this”

He gently squeezed his friend, and Sun nodded

“I understand, I can do that.”

Sun met his twin's gaze who seemed to be half glaring, probably thinking he was making choices for Cygni again. He didn’t care what he was thinking.

The other golden bot stopped near the security desk,

“You fix this brother”

“Yeah…working on it”

“Good, I better not hear any yelling from either of you, he is going through enough”

Even though he was being told so as well, it seemed the words were more directed at his twin as Sun didn’t break his gaze.

“Got it…”

“Good”

Then Sun was out the door and it was just the three of them left in the daycare. He turned his face back, Softly nuzzling the top of his rays. He hated that his back was turned to Moon but Giving comfort was more important, He made sure to stay as far away from the new additions to Cygni’s body as possible as he continued the comforting strokes down his back.

He could feel every trembling breath his friend was taking. He kept his voice low, as he kept whispering soft reassures against the top of Cygni’s head. There was nothing more to do than wait now.

“Clips?”

He squeezed his friend a little harder at hearing the nickname. He hadn’t heard him this broken in a long while

“Yeah? What do you need”

There was a tiny shake of the head.

“Just…thanks..”

He pulled back a little, looking him in the eye

“No need to thank me, “

He intended to say something more. Something kind that Cygni could focus on. Instead, he heard something behind him. So he pulled Cygni close, shielding him with his body as much as possible, as he his head back around.

He saw a bottle roll away from the security desk, and he looked up at Moon still frantically typing away. He narrowed his eyes, it felt mighty suspicious that a bottle of soap just happened to fall when he was being nice.

But there was nothing he could say, not without blowing off.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension didn’t leave with it. But it kept him grounded.

“It was nothing, just a bottle, No one came in. Sun won’t let that happen”

He felt a tiny nod, and he hoped if that was on purpose or even if it was just an accident that Moon was feeling just as shitty, if not worse for causing all of this. At some point, Cygni had let go with one hand. The other grip tightened on his shirt, pulling even more on it.

Cygni was picking at the paint on his arms, He tried not to frown or wince as he saw the large patches come loose and flake to the ground.

Suddenly the wings sprang up, and Cygni’s panicked breathing got louder

“W-wow I got you..what happened?”

“W-w-wing. T-t-touched..th-the ground…I…can feel…every inch… too much…gone..I just..want them gone”

Fuck the wings were that sensitive? Was he feeling every breeze? If they were that sensitive it was probably making everything so much worse, no wonder Cygni was just holding onto his shirt.

Should he drop the hug? Was he being too much, and could he just not say it?

There was a loud hum, He turned his face around, and Sun came back inside

“Sounds like you fixed it”

“Sort of, just enough energy to fix one of you”

Sun grimaced, but as his eyes looked over for a split second he wiped it off immediately

“Then fix him, I don’t like this, but I can stand it. This better not hurt him further Moon”

“It won’t!

He turned around, masking his relief from Moon

“Heard that?”

He asked his friend softly pulling back to look him in the face. Cygni’s eyes were still tiny and terrified. It pained him to see but he did get another nod.

“ECLIPSE! Get out of the way so I can Fix him”

He felt his grip tighten on Cygni, and he quickly relaxed again. Choosing not the response. He wasn’t stepping away. Not until his friend told him to.

“Gonna be as close as I can Okay?”

Cygni’s whole body was shaking like a leaf, barely louder than a whisper.

“Do you trust him to fix me?”

Of all the questions that could be asked, somehow he hadn’t anticipated that one. He knew his answer, even if he hated it.

“Yeah…”

He saw those terrified eyelight search his own. He wondered what he saw, he couldn’t hide the anger he was feeling. Nor the concern. His own emotions felt like they were tripping over each other, yet they felt a little more stable as he got a slow nod in return.

“O-okay…”

He ran his hand gently over Cygni’s arms and slowly stepped away.

“Further Back, you’re still in the way”

He bit down another annoyed grumble, walking backwards keeping his eyes on his friend the entire time, who wasn’t looking away either. Cygni had stopped shaking, holding himself eerily still once more.

He stood next to Sun, who was still hovering thanks to the anxious flapping of his wings. It took everything in him to keep his arms by his sides instead of crossed. Because then Cygni would know he was worried. He didn’t need to be, he was gonna be fine.

The humming beside him became louder and louder.

Just fine…

He locked all his systems in place. Moon would fix him, he knew how badly Moon would want to fix things if he knew he fucked up, especially concerning a Sun. It was fine.

There was a huge flash of light, and both he and Sun let out a sound of surprise. By the time he blinked away the blindness. Moon was already walking towards Cygni.

He intended to storm right past him to get to his friend first but forgot he had locked himself into place, so instead he almost stumbled forward. By then Moon had reached the crouched-down Cygni, who thank fuck looked the same as he always did, kneeling in front of him and offering his hand.

“Hey…bud. I’m so sorry about that. I would have fixed it sooner if…. I would have! Honest. But you are back to normal now, nothing to worry about, see”

He had finally unlocked himself and was walking towards the pair, trying to reign in the new flow of boiling anger. He stopped short when at the last of Moon’s words he saw Cygni’s eyes grow smaller again. Followed by a hastily

“Yes Lord”

Everything in the daycare froze at those words. He could hear a quiet thud where Sun had fallen from the air back to the ground in surprise. Only the music kept playing on its merry way.

“Buddy…I…”

Moon reached towards him and then to everyone's shock, Moon’s hand was slapped away as Cygni stood up with a heave.

“D-don’t you ‘Buddy’ me, we are not f-friends”

Cygni kept heaving out shaky breaths, his eyes were trembling and he was ANGRY. He stared at the sight, feeling a lot of things at once. One of them was oddly proud. Cygni held a lot of his feelings back. Afraid of being hurt once again, so to see him express some of it. Finally letting go of some of the walls was good.

Yet at the same time, his servos clenched at the sight. Because there was a lot more than anger here. Pain, a lot of hurt, bigger than he had ever seen. The way he held himself reminded him of those early days, Just after he got him out of the cell.

When Cygni thought he was alone, he saw him on the camera feed. Holding himself, trying to calm himself. It was always brief…but it had been there.

There was Worry too, what had caused him to call Moon of all people ‘Lord’? That was not a mistake he had made before, not as far as he was aware. He had gotten it, even Sun had gotten it once or twice. Having rays and towering over Cygni when he was panicking could do that.

“W-what…? What are you talking-”

“NO!”

As Cygni shook his head he took note of how Moon had sounded hurt, the selfish part of him felt very satisfied by that even though he knew that Cygni would come to regret it

“SUN is my friend. NOT you. “

Moon held his hands up trying to splutter up a response but Cygni was merciless and ploughed on.

“You LAUGHED….you didn’t even CARE to check on me! H-how many times has SUN told you he doesn’t like being changed but you did so anyway and you still laughed! And then…And then when someone finally notices I am not fucking okay. The person I live with, my best fucking friend, you accuse him of lying?! Of being overprotective?! What the actual fuck?! “

He felt his glow click on for the briefest of moments. He was still not used to people defending him. He stepped closer to the arguing pair ... or well, Cygni giving Moon a well-deserved dressing down. Cygni let out a hollow-sounding laugh that sent chills down his spine.

“You always do this! You don’t know me, you never even try to. You judge one of the most important people in my life and accuse him of things he has not done to me. Just because he did them to you, and not even caring he is trying to be better. How about instead of meddling with my personal life, you try and fix your relationship with your brother like you said you would, Instead of being too cowardly to confront your own fucking feelings and just hope that not talking about anything fixes everything! “

He heard a wince from Sun behind him, and he finally reached Cygni placing a hand on his shoulder. Not looking at Moon, he knew that he couldn't help but be smug if he saw him devastated, the anger celebrating at him finally getting some kind of consequences for his actions. But that wouldn't be right.

Cygni was angry and lashing out. He would come to regret the harsh words no matter how true they were. If he appeared happy at them ... .Cygni would be so disappointed. There were more important things than his anger anyway.

“Cygni…let’s go home….before you say something you’ll regret”

Those angry eyes snapped at him, he braced himself to be yelled at. This was unknown territory. A little while ago those eyes had been searching his own with a desperation for comfort. Now they seemed to be looking at something to destroy.

The yellow rings were burning with a fire he had never seen, it felt cold and uninviting, Yet as he squeezed his friend's shoulder gently he couldn’t help but find it beautiful too. He was proud of the anger, proud of him finally acting on the backbone he knew his friend had. It was a strange mix of emotions to be so concerned yet so proud.

He was gonna calm him down, Be in his corner yes, but not let him do stuff he would hate himself for. After another minute of silent staring, there was another nod, and he gently began to lead Cygni towards the door. Keeping his hand firmly on his shoulder.

Moon hadn’t moved at all, made no sound or given any indication to stop them. So he was surprised that Cygni stopped when they were right next to him.

“Thanks for the fucking nightmares I am gonna have, asshole”

It was quiet and muttered bitterly, his own eyes widened at it, and he gave another gentle push. The way Sun held himself when they passed indicated he had heard it too, He had kept his eyes on his friend mostly, So he saw the moment the angry eyes met Sun’s and he saw some of that ice-cold fire, ebb away.

“S-sun…I…”

Sun waved him off and said with a sigh

“I get it. Believe me, I do”

Sun started towards his brother for a moment before looking back at them, with a tiny smile

“Raincheck on shopping and movies? Just let me know when you wanna hang out okay? I make sure Moon won’t be there, I think you need some time apart from him”

Cygni gave a small curt nod.

“Thanks…Sun…Sorry…for”

Cygni glanced back, eyes getting more conflicted by the seconds.

“Don’t apologize for something that was not your fault, I’ll check in on you tomorrow,”

Then Sun walked towards his brother, and Cygni just stared at the floor. He signed, not really knowing what to say to make it better, so he gave another encouraging nudge and they walked out of the daycare, where he set up a portal.

Just as he placed it he saw Earth at the top of the stairs looking down at them. Her eyes full of worried concern for the both of them. Cygni seemed to be stuck in his own head and didn’t notice. Earth made a phone gesture next to her head.

“Call later?”

She mouthed, and he gave a short stiff nod. Before stepping through the portal into the bunker they called home.

The daycare theme cut off as the portal closed leaving them in the dark greys of the hallway. He glanced at Cygni who was still looking down, arms shakingly by his side. He glanced down the hall. Should he encourage Cygni to lie down in his room? Or maybe he should set him on the couch where he could keep an eye on him.

That was maybe the smarter idea, Cygni normally made him something to drink as he let him stew in his own thoughts. He could make his favourite tea. That at least could cheer him up a little…or maybe distract him. For now, he just wanted to make Cygni feel good.

He was about to steer his friend towards the living room. Only to stop short, Cygni was still looking down, but he could clearly see the large droplet of oil falling silently off his faceplate. He felt his shoulders slack and his heart break. How Cygni always cried so silently was a mystery, even if he knew why.

Gently he squeezed the shoulder he was holding,

“Come on let’s-”

His words died in his throat as Cygni’s head shot up. Because he wasn’t seeing devastation or sadness. No Cygni’s face was contorted in a full painful rage. He had let go in surprise, and it was a good thing too because the next second Cygni had swung his fist at the wall.

The sound of the bang it caused echoed through the bunker. Bouncing off every surface, and ringing in his audio receptors even after it faded.

“Cygs..”

He whispered worryingly and his friend let out a choking laugh or cry…something painful and bitter.

“I-I thought I was doing b-better…but I am still afraid of him…it took less than a fucking second and I was trembling and scared like I never left at all!. “

There was another punch he made a move to reach out and stop him, but Cygni stumbled back from him. His servos ached, voice box locked as he saw the raw turmoil on his friend's face.

“I am just as weak as I’ve always been…I had to be rescued again…What if you had been gone already? How long would I have been stuck like that…feeling trapped like that…reliving everything again”

Finally, he managed to find his voice, because this was something he knew for certain.

“Sun would have noticed…he…he is your friend, and he would have”

The devastation did not lift from his shaking eyes,

“Just proves I…would still have to be saved. Fuck it felt so awful…to be changed again. You knew my Lord used to do that to me for fun…I would be dusting the bookshelves and then, poof, I could be a girl, or a bird or a fucking pig, and still expected to keep working”

The laugh Cygni let out was dry and chilly, everything about this whole interaction had him frozen on the spot. Never had he heard Cygni speak with so much venom of his former master. See him so angry and devastated at the same time.

“C-can you believe he kept me like that for days at the time Eclipse?…. Stuck in a body not my own, sometimes turning all my metal into organs, and then just watching, like I was a rat in a lab, letting me roam the place trying to do my jobs for him….but it didn’t matter…it didn’t matter if I did good or bad”

Cygni raised shaky hands to his rays, they hovered just above them. Not grabbing them like Sun or even himself would. Hands curling into fists instead

“He’d take me to his lab to torture me after he was done with watching me….just for his amusement…to see what would happen, to use it on other subjects after he was done with me. He made sure I would always feel all of it, every Single Second He did everything you can think of. He ripped off whatever limbs I had. Arms, legs, even my rays, tails if he gave me one. The sensors would burn. Or he would stab me, let me bleed out, My eyes getting plucked out, no matter if I was machine or organic.”

Every time he came up with something to say, Cygni kept going, saying stuff that made him feel shattered all over again. The knowledge that the one that caused this beautiful bot all this pain was a version of himself. That at some point in time…he had the same idea as him…to rule the world like that. Would he have hurt Sun the same… destroy someone so completely?

He was scared of the answer.

But he knew one thing for certain, if he ever would come across the so-called Lord Eclipse he would do his best to make him pay for what he had done to his best friend. Tear him apart limb by fucking limb. To make him feel every bit of pain he had caused this beautiful sun model that had so quickly become one of the most important people in his life.

Yet he had to table that anger somewhat as Cygni continued on

“When he was finally done, be it days or even weeks later, he would fix me with that stupid star …and the worst part…the absolute worst.”

Those shaky eyes met his, eyes wide, Horrified, Sad, and so, so angry.

“He’d tell me…’See you are back to normal now, nothing to worry about,’ like it was some game, that if I made so much as a complaint about it…he’d turn me back just to do it again. “

His heart which already felt shattered was now getting stomped on. He was no stranger to what the lord had done to his friend. Cygni had let things fall in casual conversation that were absolutely horrifying.

Now for the first time, he saw on his friend's face the same horror he always felt. It made it all a hundred times worse. Because maybe…a small part of him had hoped…that Cygni had truly been ignorant about the wrongs done to him. It was not something he one hundred per cent believed

But…it was a calming thought, that he at least be protected mentally in some twisted sense. Yet the ugly truth lay before him now, the one that he always knew. Cygni was fully aware of how messed up his situation was. That things were not right,

Staring at the black oil-stained cheeks of his friend. He decided to do something instead of staring helplessly, he finally stepped forward and hugged his friend tightly, squeezing him like his life depended on it.

“That’s horrific, “

For a second he felt Cygni freeze, and he wondered if he had made a mistake before two thin arms came up around his back and held onto his shirt very tightly.

“I…I hate him so much…Eclipse…so fucking much “

The words were barely louder than a whisper, but it felt so much louder.

“You mean your lord right?”

He asked just as softly, and he got a nod against his shoulder, hands tightening he could feel the blunt fingers against his casing through his shirt. He was surprised Cygni had kept his claws sheeted. Something in his chest tightened and released.

Never, in all the months he had known Cygni, had he ever spoken about his feelings for his former lord. He could see it, clear as day. Seeing the fear of showing it even more. This…this was good. He was so fucking proud of him for finally saying how he felt. His mind was racing, he needed to say something, anything to make it clear that this was something good, that these feelings were valid and he wouldn’t be punished for them.

“Yeah, he would be better off death if you ask me”

He grumbled out angrily, before mentally slapping himself as Cygni’s rays retracted. Because that might be too much for now. Cygni’s hands spasmed against his back, reeling back the anger that he let escape. He’ll deal with that later when his best friend isn’t a trembling mess in his arms. He was about to apologise only to be cut off.

“Is it bad that I agree?”

“No”

He didn’t even think before giving his honest answer. If anyone was allowed to feel hatred towards that so-called Lord, it was his best friend. He finally, slowly, loosened the tight grip he still had on him, so he could pull back and look him in the eye.

“You have every right to be angry, to want him dead, gone and buried after everything he put you through. I am certainly not judging you for it,”

He gently kept rubbing Cygni’s arms up and down in a hopefully calming motion. More paint flaked off as he reached his wrists but he tried to ignore it, as he stared into the rings of his friend's eyes. Whose gaze was looking something between, hopeful and lost. Still scared, and also that anger still burning deep even as the sorrow started overtaking more and more once again.

“Wanting him dead, or being happy if he was dead. It doesn’t make you as bad as him. Trust me….I would know the difference”

He saw a tiny bit of fear leave his friend's eyes. But there was still so much, he didn’t know where the threads of all those emotions began. Or how to untangle them, He was gonna be here though, to help him through it the best he could. Even if it was just a single thread at the time.

“T-thank you…Eclipse…”

His systems hummed pleasantly at the thanks, and he pulled his friend close again.

“You’re welcome…”

They were quiet for a few moments, as he gently ran his hands over Cygni’s back. The other's grip had loosed and was now leaning with more of his weight against him. He didn't budge, afraid to ruin the strange sense of calm that had fallen over them. Things weren’t okay, not by a long shot. It felt like they had gone through the worst of the storm that had overcome his friend. So he counted that a tiny win

“Eclipse?”

He hummed letting know he heard him, one hand trailing up to pet the side of his faceplate, trying to gently coax the rays back out once more.

“D-did i…Did I overreact with Moon?”

He sighed deeply. That was a question, wasn’t it? He didn’t think so. He thought the bastard got exactly what he deserved. Yet he also knew that was his own anger and hatred for the lunar animatronic talking.

“...I think he got what he deserved…”

He started slowly, as he felt Cygni go still again. But he didn't want to lie, not just because Cygni would be able to tell, it just felt wrong.

“... I also think most others wouldn’t agree with me. “

He continued on slowly, Cygni carefully pulled back one more to look him in the face

“What do you mean?”

He sighed deeply once more, looking over Cygni’s shoulder as he tried to find the words

“You know my feelings towards Moon, I think that he got away way too easily with what he did to me, and others for that matter. I have told you repeatedly that I don’t like how he treats you. So to see him being faced with the facts and seeming to realise that he is wrong…and that fucking hurts him…yeah...I think that is deserved. “

He glanced at Cygni’s eyes for a second, the yellow rings were staring intently, not judging yet, just listening to him speak.

“While I also think you pointing out that he isn’t working on his relationship with Sun is very valid. I think most people would say that that was a little too far, as it isn’t much of your business. “

He watched as Cygni’s eyes turned sad, and he fought through the way his chest clenched

“And I think you are one of those people who think that…”

There was a slow nod. He let the words sink in for a bit, gently stroking the tips of the rays that were visible, Then he continued on.

“I think as well, that you shouldn’t blame yourself too much, I can’t imagine what you must have been feeling, being transformed against your will. Getting all those memories of what your lord did brought back to the forefront of your brain. Then Moon, saying something so similar to what that bastard did when he was done…”

His voicebox shut down with a click, he didn’t want to say it. The images that went through his head at the descriptions Cygni had given. It was a wonder his friend was still alive.

“Torturing me?”

Cygni's voice was soft, and a little sad. It made him almost fucking choke up. The fact that he said it so easily is what really did it to him. He coughed past his own static

“yeah…I don’t blame you for lashing out. I don’t think you should either. Maybe apologize when things have calmed down a little. If that is what you feel like you should do”

There was a frown on his friend's face, something sad and he could see a spark of annoyance.

“...Maybe this sounds mean ....but I feel more bad for dragging Sun into it then Moon…at least right now. I am…mad at him... For not listening to me, for ignoring you. Right now I do not want to see him…I think I will be mad at him for a while as well”

He gently nuzzled against the top of Cygni’s head

“And that is okay, “

He saw the tiniest of smiles flicker over his friend's face and he felt a little lighter at seeing it.

“Come on…let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll watch something stupid on tv or something”

Cygni gave a nod, as he let himself be guided to the bathroom.

A little while later both of them were laying on the couch, Cygni exhausted from all his emotions, hadn’t lasted through more than one episode before falling asleep. He had been tugging the blanket a little tighter around his friend when he noticed that he was trembling once more, and then he let out the tiniest whimper, almost too quiet to be heard. Grimly he thought back to the last thing Cygni had said to Moon.

Thanks for the nightmare indeed

He didn’t hesitate as he gathered the sun animatronic in his arms. He held on even as the whimpers and shakes increased. Stroking his back, arms rays as gently as he could as he whispered soft comforting words. He would fight the nightmares as best he could. Even if it meant staying up all night.

As the shivering died down against his casing again, not fully gone, but at least subsided. He looked down and his best friend's faceplate scrunched up in a pain that he couldn’t fight. He fought the urge to kiss his forehead or his rays.

Because he would, he would fight dimensions to keep this bot safe in his arms. Would be there to see every part of him heal. Even if that entailed him drifting away from him and finding his own strength. Find people other than him to love and trust. He just wanted him to be happy. Happy and safe.

As he stared across the bunker that had become a home, he whispered soft promises that would never be heard. Too afraid to say out loud, filled with too much of his own strong feelings for this bot that had captured his mind, heart and soul.

He was gonna keep him safe, even if he got hurt doing so.

It would be okay.

[mumms-the-word]

In the Company of Wolves

Characters: Solas x fem!Lavellan Summary: Solas spends part of the evening at Halamshiral admiring Iren and pondering the similarities between an Orlesian masquerade and ancient Arlathan. When he's not being grim and fatalistic about it all, he's imagining a few naughty things he would like to do with Iren, should the evening give them a chance. Basically it's a whole lot of Solas pining and pondering and wishing, at least for one night, that he were not the Dread Wolf after all. A/N: Some of this is inspired by information we learn in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, but does not contain any Veilguard spoilers. Also, tried something new with verb tenses and flashbacks. I haven't decided if I like it yet, but an attempt was made! AO3 link if you want to read it there! MDNI 18+ even though most of the smut is relatively tame (teasing and such, you know)

Solas cradled a glass of wine in his hand, lifting it to his lips as he watched the Orlesian nobility wandering past. Each one was dressed in their finest silks and brocades, buttons and buckles gleaming, feathers floating, jewels sparkling. There was more wealth in one antechamber or narrow hallway here than in whole towns and villages around Orlais and Ferelden. And as was the fashion, the requirement of Orlais, every single one of them was masked, their faces covered with thin plaster or porcelain, paper-mâché or paint, imitating lips and noses and mustaches and carefully plucked brows. Faces upon faces. Falsehoods upon falsehoods.

It was as familiar as it was foreign. Had he come here alone, had there not been any threat of Corypheus and his Venatori conspirators, he would have been content to watch and observe. Smile to himself at the frivolous concerns of a nobility that cared more for their appearances than anything else and stand unseen and quietly amused at how seriously they conducted their clandestine affairs in half-hidden alcoves and darkened stairwells.

In this sea of masks, it was all too easy to believe they were little more than mindless animals, prettied and painted up to appear as intelligent creatures. If he wasn’t careful, everything would seem as a dream, each person drifting by as no more than a blur of meaningless color. Not real. Completely beneath his notice.

But then she would appear again, sweeping quietly through the hall, and the world would sharpen into focus again.

Iren. His vhenan.

She stood out among the crowd as easily as a single star in a void of night. Whereas everyone else here was dripping with color, turning about the room in their jewel tones, vibrant satins, and complex patterns, she was dressed simply and elegantly in a white dress of soft linen and breezy chiffon that left much of her sides and all of her arms bare. A brushed gold collar and matching thin belt gave the dress shape and held it close to her body, preserving all the necessary modesty that the court required, though her bare arms and sides had already been the subject of several scandalized whispers. Solas alone had overheard a handful of remarks here in this hall where he lingered, so he could only imagine the talk that went on in the ballroom proper. The court was undecided on which was the most offending detail, the sight of her bare skin or the dark red vallaslin she wore so boldly on her face, a vallaslin that also adorned her back and curled gently beneath her collarbone, faintly visible even beneath two layers of chiffon over linen.

She was ornamented lightly with gold in the same brushed finish as her collar and belt—a golden armband around one bicep, a set of simple thin bangles around both wrists, earrings that threaded thin chains between her earlobe and piercings that sat halfway up the line of her pointed ears. And of course the thin ring she always wore in her lip, the gold indenting her bottom lip and drawing the eye there every time. She had painted her hands with dark henna, a pattern of swirls that matched the markings of Sylaise on her face and darkened the tips of each finger to a shade of dark rust red. Crowning it all was a gold headdress of sorts, shaped in curving lines to form a pair of halla antlers that stretched back from her head.

She looked like a long-forgotten goddess among distracted mortals, a being from an ancient empire whom nobody could remember. She appeared simultaneously as a creature out of place and a being that rose above as something more.

She looked like one of the ancient elvhen.

No. He smiled to himself. Even among the nobility of ancient Arlathan she would have stood apart. There, the nobility had been just as opulent and colorful. More so, in fact, when Arlathan was at the height of its power. Iren, in all her simplicity, wearing only white and gold, would have appeared not as one of the Evanuris, but as something set apart. Something not even they would know what to do with.

He doubted she knew the effect her appearance had on those around her. She had wanted simple and she had gotten it, for better or worse. For here, simplicity was an outlier. Here, simplicity was rare.

Simplicity meant every eye was on her now, rather than passing over her.

As she drifted by him again, offering him a small smile that he returned as she made her way toward the gardens, he recalled how nervous she had been in the days leading up to this ball.

She paces his rotunda restlessly as she frets over the ambassador’s choice of fashion and uniform. “She’s talking about corsets and laces now, Solas.”

“Oh? Has our ambassador already selected your outfit for the evening?”

“She’s working on it.” She stops with a sigh, resting a hand on a stack of books that stand on his desk. “I requested her to go as simple as possible, but I’m not sure she understands what that word actually means.”

He laughs at that and takes her hand from his books, raising it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Lady Josephine can be reasoned with, after a fashion. She will honor your wishes if you communicate them clearly.”

“I just want to be…comfortable,” she says. But he knows that isn’t the word she wants to say. She wants to be helpful. She wants to heal hurts and move on. She wants to be invisible. She wants to be herself. It is, in part, why she is so drawn to Cole, and so protective over him. If she were a spirit, she would be Compassion.

But she is flesh and blood, and the Inquisition needs an Inquisitor. Who better than the woman who heals the sky and who stops the pain of every conflict ravaging the land?

He gently pulls her in close for a soft kiss. “Whatever you wear, you will be beautiful, my heart. You always are.”

And she was. The light of hundreds of candles illuminated golden light over her warm, dusky skin as if to cast her in polished bronze. The dark red of her vallaslin and henna added an enchanting, otherworldly effect to her natural beauty that these Orlesians, in all their paints and powders, didn’t know what to make of.

So as with anything they did not understand, they warped fear and curiosity into scorn and hostility.

Primitive. Rabbit. Savage. Knife-ear. Witch. The nobles used these words so carelessly, as though the sight of her bare skin and unmasked face were an open invitation. Like wolves, they surrounded her, thinking they scented blood, ready to sink their teeth into her flesh and tear her to shreds. They saw the halla antlers that adorned her head and thought her a prize beast to fell in a hunt.

She had predicted that.

He steps into her rented room in the city of Halamshiral, nodding quietly to the assistants who are putting the final touches on her face. A subtle dusting of shimmering powder on her eyelids, a line of dark kohl around her eyes, and a dark red stain on her lips, just a shade or two darker than that of her vallaslin and henna. Iren sees him in the mirror and dismisses the assistants with a smile.

“What do you think?” she asks, standing as the others file out of the room, leaving them alone. “I doubt I’ve ever worn this much finery in my entire life. This part in particular seems a little excessive.”

She touches the golden horns that curve and curl back from her head, an elegant mimicry of halla antlers to remind the court of her proud Dalish heritage. Her dark hair has been carefully arranged to cover the headbands that keep them secure on her head, the rest of her long tresses left to fall loose down her back and over her shoulders. He clasps his hands behind his back and smiles.

“You wear them well,” he says. “And the court will certainly have opinions about them.”

“Of course. I can’t wait for someone to call me a halla rider and think it’s a compliment. I’d almost rather they just insult me outright.”

Her eyes drift away from him, toward a painting that hangs on one wall. A group of Orlesian nobility dressed in the fashion of the age long since passed, gathered as a hunting party, their bows drawn. At their feet and beside the fine horses, sleek gray hunting hounds lead them through the forest. Their prey, a white halla with silver horns.

“They hunt them for their pelts and antlers, you know,” she says quietly. “In Orlais, a single halla is worth a fortune. Dead, of course. No point in capturing the creature alive.”

He says nothing. He is all too aware of the destructive tendencies of a people who would rather attack first than seek to understand, to appreciate, to learn. After a moment, Iren purses her lips, playing idly with the bangles around one wrist.

“I wonder what they will think of me.”

“They will think you are simple and easily defeated.” He smiles. “And like the stubborn, clever halla, who has no doubt felled many an arrogant Orlesian hunter, you will prove them wrong.”

She had said nothing to that, but he had seen how she entered the main ballroom, how she had navigated the first hour of the masquerade. As they thought, the nobility here watched her with predatory stares, eager to pounce on a single mistake. They tittered behind their fans and perfumed the air with cruel whispers. They murmured ridicule just low enough to sit at the edge of one’s hearing,

She had acted as though they hadn’t spoken, keeping her back straight and her chin high as she entered the ballroom on the Grand Duke’s arm. She had curtsied to Empress Celene, walked a confident circuit of the ballroom, and made it out into the hallway where Solas had taken up a place in one corner. It wasn’t until she had slipped her hand in his that he noticed the tremor in her fingers, the fine trembling tension that sang in her body as her blood thrummed with adrenaline and fear. On the surface, she had kept all of that hidden away.

He was the only one who knew how terrified she was.

“You will be fine, vhenan. And I will be here if you need me.”

But she didn’t need him. Or at the very least, she had no need to rely on him as a wounded man might rely on a crutch. She was, above all, adaptable and clever, and she had a natural grace and elegance that made her seem nearly at home among the more civilized Orlesians. They still derided her, of course. But they found very little purchase for their barbed words and veiled insults.

He watched her through the window as she perched on one of the railings that lined two sides of the Winter Palace garden, only a few feet away from him. The only things separating them were clear glass panels, but she didn’t look his way. She sipped from a glass of wine and pretended to find something interesting in the statuary of the fountain, but he knew she was listening for secrets. Feigning indifference or boredom to lure others into a false sense of security, where they may let slip something vital within earshot.

But then, as he watched, she lifted a hand and traced one finger against a spot on her neck, beneath her hair.

Ah. He smiled again. Perhaps her mind was not as much on the mission as he thought.

She turns to look again in the mirror of that room in Halamshiral. Her eyes are on the halla horns she wears, contemplating his words about proving the court wrong. He comes up softly behind her and wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Beside her, he looks pale and sharp, his indigo eyes darkened by the falling evening light. Still weak. A shadow of what he had once been. A humble disguise he didn’t even have to fabricate.

He focuses on her instead, admiring the curve of her brows over her dark brown eyes, the shape of her lips when she purses them faintly as she considers the two of them in the mirror.

He presses a slow kiss to her bare shoulder. “You will be the envy of all the court, ma vhenan.”

Her lips flicker with a darkly amused smile. “No, I won’t. Even with all this finery, I have no doubt I’ll be the most underdressed guest at the masquerade.”

He hums into her skin as he brushes another kiss against her shoulder. “But you are beautiful. You are enchanting. I doubt even the empress herself could compare.”

“Only to you, perhaps.”

To that he says nothing. Instead, he carefully moves aside the long, dark hair that trails over her shoulder, pushing it back to bare her throat above her golden collar. From his place behind her, he has easy access to the space just below and behind her long, slender ear, and it is there that he kisses now, lathing his tongue against her neck before gently taking her skin between his teeth in little nips. She relaxes against him, nearly melting, listing her head to one side to give him better access.

“Solas…” His name is a sigh, a breath from her lungs.

“Relax, my heart,” he purrs against her throat.

One of his hands finds purchase in her skirt, slowly and carefully drawing it up until his fingers brush against warm skin rather than cool fabric. He brushes his fingers up the inside of her thigh, inching closer and closer to her heat, only to smooth his touch back down and away. Teasing and tempting, the game they play, have played, since that first kiss in the Fade. She shifts, parting her legs to give him better access as she leans back against him, but he ignores the invitation. They don’t have time for what he wants, what he has planned. It would have to wait. For now, though…

He flicks his gaze back toward the mirror, watching her eyes flutter closed as his fingertips brush featherlight against her inner thigh again, close but not quite where she wants him. He sees himself in the reflection, too, his lips pressed against her skin as he sucks a dark mark onto her throat just below her ear. He watches them both, his gaze hungry, intense, while she relaxes back against him with her head to one side. The halla antlers curve back over their shoulders, glinting in the warm evening light. As the last of the daylight falls, shadows creeping into the room, his pupils reflect gold-green, a predator’s gaze in the dark.

If they had a few moments more…

A knock at the door brings him back to his senses.

“Are you ready, Inquisitor? We are gathering outside at the carriages now.”

The ambassador’s voice. Iren shifts as if to draw away, but Solas wraps an arm tighter around her, determined to finish what he started with the mark on her neck. “Y-yes,” she calls. “I’ll be down in a moment!”

He listens for the telltale sound of a latch being thrown at the door, but instead they hear footsteps drawing away. Satisfied, he finally lifts his head, brushing her hair away to admire his work.

There, just below her ear, a red love mark almost dark enough to match the red of her vallaslin and henna. By the end of the night, it will be bruise purple. A semi-permanent mark of his own making. One more adornment to add to her finery.

He smiles and rearranges her hair to cover the mark, hiding it from view. A secret, just for them.

Back in the garden, she seemed to catch herself and dropped her hand in her lap, idly rubbing the fabric of her dress between her thumb and forefinger. She had chided him when she caught a glimpse of the mark in the mirror. But her hair hid the bruise, so long as she kept it over her shoulder, as she did now. No one knew it was there, except for the two of them.

She turned her head again, following the sound of some whispered secret or another. With her dark profile set against the white and blue of the Winter Palace, he was free to admire the curve of her aquiline nose and the plump shape of her lips. Strong features. Regal features. You would not have found them among the nobility of the ancient Elvhen, who favored delicate noses and pointed chins, large eyes and small mouths. But the ancient Elvhen had not made her.

She was a product of this world. The world he had been forced to create and had hated with each step in its hollow realm. Millennia of elves fighting, surviving, fleeing, dying, carving out an existence in a world that should have been their ready inheritance, all funneled down to the happy accident of her birth, her creation. Solas hated the Dalish for the same reasons he hated the Orlesians—their arrogance in thinking they knew the world, knew their own history, better than any outsider might. But for all that he disliked the Dalish, they had done one thing right.

They had made her.

She was so beautiful. But that wasn’t the only thing that had drawn him in. She was kind and empathetic; she felt every emotion too deeply, raw and ragged, even as she was forced to suppress it all to maintain her solid facade as the Inquisitor. And she was stubborn, too, as immovable as a rock in a churning sea. She didn’t stop until a task was complete and someone got the aid they needed, whether that be healing a wound, clearing out bandits in a fortress, or saving a wayward druffalo. She sought wisdom and guidance when she needed it, but once her mind was set, there was no persuading her.

But she wasn’t reckless. If anything, she was patient, selfless to a fault, watching everyone else and planning ways to help them, often at the expense of herself. He recognized these traits easily. He shared them, or he had once, when the world was different. When the Evanuris ruled, and these traits were what he had aspired to. Kindness. Patience. Resilience. Selflessness. She bore these traits better than he ever had.

His stare must have been more piercing or intense than he intended. She turned her head, as if feeling the weight of his gaze, and their eyes locked through the panes of glass that separated them. He offered her a light toast with his goblet, a smile playing on his lips.

To your hunt, ma vhenan.

A hint of a smile flickered on her plump lips. She pretended not to notice his toast, turning her head away again. But then she gathered her hair carefully over one shoulder, bearing her neck toward him. Bearing the side that was, as of yet, blemish free. He saw her dark eyes flick back toward him, trying to gauge his reaction in the corner of her eye.

An open invitation, or a tease. Solas suppressed a smirk.

He wasn’t certain whether it was the wine or the atmosphere or some other terrible influence that was weakening his resolve, but the sight of her skin, offered so freely, tempted him almost beyond his control. He longed to pull her aside into some hidden shadowed corner and make a mark to match the one she already wore beneath one ear. To guide her away, his hand on her hip, fingers brushing over her bare waist, while the eyes of the court followed them and whispered about how dreadfully forward the Inquisitor’s elven serving man was being, to touch her so openly and boldly. Then to find a private corner away from all else and press her back against the cold marble of some column or wall, inhaling her surprised gasp as he closed the distance between them for a kiss, slipping his hands through the opening of her dress to the smooth planes of her back.

If this were any other party, if they were there for any other reason than to stop a madman’s agents from threatening chaos over an entire nation, he might give in to such fantasies. It would be all too tempting, once he had her there in those imagined, stolen moments, to lose himself to her henna-stained touch. To guide her fingers to the buttons of his coat and press in close, hiking her skirts up just enough to slip his thigh between her bare legs and leave her with nowhere to go, save closer to him. Her sex against him. Her perfect breasts heaving against him. Her panting breaths mingling with his.

They’d have to get rid of the halla antlers, of course, if he was going to make such ample use of the wall to satisfy them both. Pull them free from her hair and toss them aside as he caught the skin of her neck between his teeth again. A halla caught in the jaws of a wolf…

His smirk faded as the thought, unbidden, bitter, sarcastic, invaded his fantasy. What was that old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you? And now the fantasy was ruined, as reality crashed down around him. A reality of his own making.

Not that she had any way of knowing the irony. Here, she thought the Orlesian nobility were like wolves, crowding around her on the hunt for blood. If she had any idea who he was, who he had been, would she bare herself so openly to him? Would she look at him the way she did these days? With nothing but tenderness and care, and perhaps more than a little hunger of her own? No. If she ever truly knew…

There was no one here to warn her save himself. And he could not. It would risk everything, ruin everything, and it…it was too soon.

Even so, he could all too easily imagine the whispers that would follow her if his secret was known. Old Dalish warnings and snide comments from the ancient elvhen, allies of the Evanuris, mingled together in his mind.

See how the Dread Wolf stares at her, so lurid and open. See how his great, fanged jaws salivate for a taste of her flesh. Cavort not with wolves, young elvhen, lest you fall prey to their charms. For He Who Hunts Alone may devour you, if you let him draw close, and then where will you be?

He tightened his grip on his glass of wine and then, after a moment, set it aside. This masquerade brought too much of the old Solas out of him. All this courtly intrigue, this heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex, it all felt so familiar that he could easily conjure the sort of talk the elvhen would have said, had said, about him.

Some things never changed. The scorn was the same, it was only the words that differed. And here, just as it was then, the powerful preyed on the weak and boasted their victories prematurely, while others lay in wait for their chance to usurp, to upset the balance, to rebel and create change.

Like his Inquisitor, he supposed. For all his wine-muddled thoughts about wolves and halla, predators and prey, Iren was ultimately neither. Though she wore the halla antlers for the sake of costuming and carried herself with the elegance of nobility, and though she was on the hunt for agents of the Elder One to stop his plans before they even began, she did not fit so easily in these categories. She was neither halla, nor noble, nor huntress.

She was what she had professed to be from the start, when she had first introduced herself to him. A shepherd guarding her flock. A Dalish Keeper in training.

Therein lay the true irony. He should have seen it from the beginning.

“I am surprised you offered to stand watch,” he says, approaching her as she sits by the campfire in the midst of the Ferelden Hinterlands. After only two weeks of knowing her, she remains a mystery. Beautiful. Gifted in magic and in healing. Quiet, but stubborn. She is the bearer of the Anchor, a gift that should never have been hers, but which she has learned to use with surprising rapidity. But as with so many others in this world, she still seems a little unreal. Unfinished. Unrefined.

Yet he can’t help but be drawn to her, at least a little. The warm tones of her skin, the soft fall of her dark russet hair, the ring she wears in her lip that never fails to draw his gaze. The way she tilts her head, listening closely to his words when he speaks. The way her eyes flash with surprising anger when someone attempts to dissuade her from a path she has chosen to take. There are hints of cleverness within her he wants to see more of, despite knowing that what he ought to do is keep himself distanced and aloof.

At his casual remark, she looks up at him, the glow of the firelight warming her dusky skin. “Pardon?”

“I would not have expected one of the Dalish mages to be accustomed to the task,” he says, by way of explanation. “I suspect most of them sleep comfortably while their hunters do all the watching…and lose all the sleep.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” she says, smiling dryly. “In my clan, the Keeper, the First, and the Second each take one of the three night watches with the hunters. The Keeper always takes the first watch, then the First takes the middle watch, and the Second the third watch early in the morning. In Clan Lavellan, there is always a mage awake and relatively alert every hour of the night. Just so you know, the middle watch is the worst.”

He tilts his head. These Dalish clans never do the same thing twice, he’s found. “Fascinating. And what do you keep watch for? Bandits and wolves, like your hunters do? Or are you there to watch for demons?”

Her dry smile is still on her lips, but it shifts. “Any of it. Among other things.”

She twists a thick sylvanwood ring on her first finger, carved to depict a wolf flanked on either side by delicate elven figures. The elves face away from the wolf, as if marching toward a destination not depicted on the ring. He recognizes the scene instantly. A depiction of the Betrayal. Or at least, how the Dalish remember it.

It was a gift from her Keeper to guide her on the way to the Conclave, she had once told him, the first time he had noticed the ring. A reminder of the people she left behind. A people she hopes one day to return to and eventually to lead.

“Anyone can watch for bandits,” she continues. “But we were meant to watch for something else. Someone else.”

She twists the ring on her finger again. He knows the answer even before the name crosses her lips, a title he will never be able to escape, not even in death.

“Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf. It is our job to keep him from leading our people astray.”

If she only knew…

No. It would shatter her. She would be left ashamed and embarrassed, or worse, betrayed. He would lose her in an instant.

He would never be able to tell her the truth. No matter how much he longed to. No matter how much he saw in her the traits and strengths and the determination that he himself had once exemplified in his early days of rebellion. If this were another time, another place, perhaps then he could bring himself to trust her with the truth. But those days were long gone. Elvhenan was gone. He had destroyed it.

How different would things be, would things have been, if she were there in the days of the Elvhenan empire? Would she have sided with him in rebellion, or clung to Sylaise as a devoted follower or slave? He doubted sincerely that she would be content in slavery, content to sit idly by while people suffered the whims of the powerful and the corrupt. If she had been born in the time of ancient Arlathan, if she had been part of his rebellion against the Evanuris, if he had been drawn to her in the days after Mythal, would she have been able to find a better solution that he could not see at the time? Would her wisdom have shown her better paths?

Would he even have listened?

That was the real question, and he knew the answer. He wouldn’t have. He hadn’t listened to the friends he’d had. And even now, seeing what world he had created, he wasn’t entirely certain that if he had the chance to go back and correct his mistakes he would choose any differently.

All this, to stop powerful tyrants and would-be gods…

“Solas?”

He blinked, drawn from his brooding thoughts by the sound of Iren’s voice. She stood now just a few steps away, waiting for him to see her. And as before, the world crystallized with her at the center. Everything made a little more real.

He softened his brooding expression as best he could. “Ah. My apologies, vhenan. My mind was…elsewhere.”

She fought a smile, but he could see it twitching at the corners of her mouth, her lip ring glinting in the candlelight. Unbidden, his thoughts were drawn there, focused and warm. He wanted to catch the ring between his teeth and tug gently at her lip while his hands pulled her flush against him. He wanted—but then she smiled, amused, and he realized how brazenly he stared at her mouth.

“I can guess where your mind was,” she murmured. “But…later. We still have work to do.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice even further. “No matter how much I might wish otherwise.”

“Indeed,” he breathed. Better that she thought his mind wholly distracted by her than to suspect him of other treachery. And, if he were honest, it was all too easy for his mind to turn, again and again, to the subject of her beauty, in praise of her figure, lost in fantasies of what he would do if he didn’t fear the consequences so much. He cleared his throat gently. Back to work. “How goes your search?”

“Something is happening in the servant’s wing nearest the ballroom,” she said, keeping her voice quiet, lest anyone try to overhear. “It has me worried about the elven servants…”

“You think they are involved?”

“I think they’re being killed, and that worries me.” She gnawed at the corner of her upper lip a moment. Then she forced a little smile, as if they were once more flirting, their words meaningless and shallow. “Can I interest you in a distraction soon?”

“You are already a distraction, ma vhenan,” he said softly, taking the risk, despite all the eyes and ears potentially turned their way, of taking her hand and lifting it for a brief kiss. “But I understand your question. I would be very interested. And I am ready whenever you are.”

“Good. The door in the next room, down the stairs, to your left. I’ll have it unlocked soon. Meet me there in a few moments.”

“As you say.”

“And…Solas?”

“Yes, vhenan?”

She hesitated, the first obvious sign of reluctance or even doubt he had seen in the time since they’d entered the grounds of the Winter Palace. Her hand was still in his. In her hesitant silence, she gave his fingers a fierce, firm squeeze, as if she were nervous and seeking reassurance.

“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re here with me. That’s all. I don’t think I could do all of this without you.”

And just like that, he remembered just how mortal, how fragile she was compared to the elvhen, the Evanuris, compared even to himself, weakened as he now was. This was not Arlathan. She was not one of the People. She was Dalish, part of a quickened race of elves who forgot everything and clung to legends and fanciful stories as if they were true history.

And he loved her. His foolish bleeding heart couldn’t help but love her. Try as he might to harden his heart, to remain callous, distanced, cold, neutral, he couldn’t. With her hand in his, drawing strength and courage from his touch, her warm brown eyes earnestly seeking his to convey not just gratitude, but love, her plump lips holding the hint of a smile meant just for him and no one else, how could he do anything but love her? As she was. Mortal. Dalish.

Real.

He wished he could be anything but the Dread Wolf in that moment. That he could be nothing other than an odd, wandering, elven apostate, a scholar of the Fade. That he could set everything aside and be what she needed him to be, nothing more, nothing less. That this night would end with a victory, in some form or fashion, and her hand once more in his as he led her to a private room to celebrate. No more danger of the Dread Wolf leading the Dalish Keeper astray. Just a man in love with a woman and proving his love with searing touches and whispered words. He would give anything to be just that, to be the man she believed him to be.

She saw the best in him. He wanted so dearly to live up to her vision.

Perhaps, for tonight, he could try.

Let there be other wolves. For one night, let him be as he began, simply Solas, and as he wished to become, a man devoted to his heart’s desire. His Inquisitor. His Iren.

He lifted her hand to his lips for another kiss, reverent and slow, a silent response to her remarks. Then he let her go, watching as she slipped her hand reluctantly from his and drew away; watching as the eyes of Orlesian nobles and elven servants alike turned to follow her as she left the room.

She had nothing to fear from them. She had already faced worse than an Orlesian court. Like so many other obstacles she had already faced and overcome, she would find a way forward, a way to help those who needed help, a way to stop the Elder One from sowing chaos. She would succeed, one way or another, because that was simply what she did. She could handle a few predatory glares and poisonous whispers, in light of all that.

She would be fine. She had grown accustomed to the company of wolves, for better or for worse, whether she knew it or not.

But for tonight, he would not be another among them.

[genericpuff]

The LO TV show isn't happening, and here's why.

Now, before I begin, courtesy to /u/Princess_Space_Goose because they're one of the driving forces behind these observations concerning stuff in the entertainment sector and they were the first ones to make a comprehensive post about it over on reddit shortly after we got into it in the Discord and compiled everything we knew. But I also REALLY wanna talk about this and I'm surprised to see I haven't yet. They've covered reddit, so I'm covering Tumblr LMAO

Disclaimer: Long post ahead. Much of what I say below is speculation but there's a lot of damning evidence to support it. Take it with grains of salt.

Rachel has vague-posted about the show a couple times over the past few years, but very sparingly so, always stating that it's "in the works" without anything to actually show for it. This would have been fine back in 2020 or even 2021 (the pandemic did bring a lot of television/movie development to a crawl) but we're over halfway through 2023 now.

So where's the show? Who's running it? What is it gonna look like? Which streaming service is it going to be hosted on?

We literally do not know any definitive answers to these questions because nothing has been revealed and at this point in the game, that's basically a death sentence. LO has been on a noticeable decline in stats over the past year, while we obviously can't access the backend numbers (and neither can Rachel as far as I know because WT guards them with an iron fist which is a whole other topic for discussion) it's still very clear by the comic's rating slowly but surely dropping and the like count average lowering (obv the like count isn't indicative of view count but if the ratio has remained the same, that means if the like count lowers, the viewership is likely lowering too). There's also been certain behavior from WT over the past year that hints at the comic not doing well, such as its VERY aggressive ad campaigning which often undercuts other series on the platform that are far better than LO and deserve the spotlight, but lose it anyways because WT just wants to keep its golden goose on life support even after its heart has stopped beating.

So the fact that we don't know the answers to these questions still after 4 years is NOT good. We don't know anything and while that was excusable 3 years ago, at this point, it's more indicative of the project being at a standstill or dropped completely, and what we dug up and discussed in the ULO Discord (and what was later posted to reddit) proves it with some very telling information dissected from LinkedIn and other sources.

So far, the only people we know connected to this project are Rachel Smythe (the creator of LO) and Stephanie K Smith (the appointed showrunner). Showrunners are the lifeblood of television series, remember this. Here's a little bit about her:

Lore Olympus still doesn't have a network, this means it has no definitive spot to air, which is not good at this point, because the network is what primarily funds these projects. Think of "Netflix shows" - they're not necessarily made by Netflix, they're made by studios that Netflix funds and as such they're given the Netflix branding because Netflix is their proprietary distribution network and benefactor. So LO has no network or streaming service funding its production. All of her other credited works have affiliated networks/distributors, but LO doesn't.

"But what about Jim Henson Company?" Jim Henson Company bought the rights to LO in 2019 to produce it, that doesn't necessarily mean they were onboard to fund the entire project. Again, these studios need networks to back them, not just for monetary purposes, but with the promise that their project will have a place to go when it's finished, whether it's Netflix, HBO, etc. Think of it like a movie theater - the movie theaters aren't the ones making the movies, but they have deals with the studios to air those movies with the agreement that both sides will be making money.

Jim Henson Company is a production studio, not a network. Not only that, but they're primarily for-hire for puppetry/animatronic projects, they're not the same kind of studio as, say, Laika, or Disney, or Warner Bros. Much of their work is done on the backend, creating animatronics and puppets for kids' productions, monster movies, etc. Currently they're working as the animatronic designers for Five Nights at Freddy's, but that movie isn't a JHC movie, it's a Blumhouse production, which has hired JHC to create animatronics for them.

So, the fact that they were the ones to buy out LO for production rights is... very odd. Because for starters, they don't tend to buy out production rights like major studios, they're typically for hire, but they're also not an animation studio. Any animation projects they've worked on were for concept art and design, such as Word Party, but the folks at JHC primarily specialize in conceptualization and practical effects. That's their whole shtick, it's what they're selling, it's what they get hired for.

That's all early stuff though, stuff we've been speculating on for ages. What came to light recently that spurred on this whole essay was discovering this one section on Stephanie K's LinkedIn:

There are a couple things we can glean from this. First, we know this has to be LO even if it isn't being named, because LO is the only one that was bought by JHC.

This also confirms that LO did end up with a distribution network, specifically HBO Max.

But it also confirms that Stephanie K Smith, the showrunner, is no longer on the project, either due to willingly quitting or being removed. According to the time stamps, she left in April of this year.

This is especially not good because without a showrunner, there's no leader. Showrunners are essential to these projects. So without a showrunner, and without any sort of announcement of a replacement, LO's television show is a ship without a captain, a car without a driver, a Hell's Kitchen without a Gordon Ramsay.

There's mention of an "animated presentation" but as mentioned in that reddit post above, that's not necessarily a pilot, it's more likely it was this. Which can't even really be called "animation", it's just video editing, rigging and tweening, but I digress.

There's a lot more in that reddit thread that dives into some of the details of Stephanie K's stuff, including the HBO Max affiliation and how that potentially connects to the Sydney Sweeney trailer, but ultimately, all of these breadcrumbs add up to one of two things:

LO's television show is in severe development hell which it likely will not come out of for quite some time, especially right now with both the writer's strike and streaming services gutting their animation connections.

LO's show isn't happening at all but with LO's numbers declining and its audience growing more fed up with the series (look no further than the comments on Instagram about LO's recent Eisner win, people are PISSED) Rachel and WT are trying to do as much damage control as possible by dangling a carrot in front of the audience they have left in the hopes that they'll stick around long enough on the promise of a TV show happening to keep siphoning cash and views. After all, there are two things many readers are still sticking around for - the SA plotline, and the TV show, and both of those things are being unnecessarily dragged out in the vaguest way possible with no real resolution in sight.

Neither of these are good, but I think what's even more telling is that, since that post was made on reddit, Rachel has attended SDCC and taken part in a new interview from Girl Wonder Podcast, and when asked about the show, all she had to say was this:

"Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty."

IDK if the "naughty" bit is referring to the show or just her revealing info about it, but the fact that NOTHING was shown at SDCC is just. Y'all, I'm sorry, but the show is not happening. If you're gonna show off previews for television ANYWHERE, it's SDCC. It's like the E3 of comics and entertainment media. So the fact that she's STILL VAGUE-POSTING ABOUT IT EVEN AT A MAJOR EVENT WHERE IT'S COMMONPLACE TO REVEAL TRAILERS AND PREVIEWS OF NEW PROJECTS, like... it's just not happening. Jim Henson Company bought the rights to produce LO as a TV show in the summer of 2019. Since then, we haven't seen a SHRED of news, if you google "Lore Olympus TV show" it'll still be the same 2-3 articles from 2019 talking about JHC buying the rights and that's it. If you do further sleuthing, all you'll find is Rachel saying "yeah it's still happening but I can't say anything!" which means fucking nothing at this point. The only 'hope' I have left is that they'll announce it at NYCC which has Rachel in a top billing spot in its advertising, but I'm really not holding my breath at this point.

Animated productions take a while, sure, but LO wasn't the only comic bought for TV production in that late 2010's/early 2020's era. Heartstopper was bought in 2019, and it made it to Netflix by April 2022. And it was live action, a medium SEVERELY affected by the pandemic, unlike animation, which wasn't affected as much because a lot of animation development can be done from home. What did affect the animation sector was streaming services like Netflix gutting their connections to animation studios and putting animated projects on the chopping block... which also doesn't bode well for LO.

It's 2023 now and we still don't even have anything beyond those initial announcement articles and Rachel making empty promises. It's not happening. Don't fall for the "it's coming soon but I can't say anything" nonsense. It's far less genuine now than it was 3 years ago and it has nothing to support those claims that it's actually in development, and ironically far more to support mere speculation that she's lying or doing damage control.

And, if it actually is happening, on a shred of belief in that being a possibility, then it sure as shit isn't being marketed well. Knowing how to build hype in a product is an entire course of knowledge. Marvel is practically the king of building hype, they're why people sit until the very end of the credits now in the hopes of seeing an after-credit scene, even in movies that aren't made by them. LO's numbers are bleeding right now, so to not show anything at even the major events like SDCC is a blatant misfire. Almost like there isn't anything to show in the first place.

You can take all of this evidence as you will. Some of it you may dismiss as "overthinking" or whatever have you. And a lot of it is speculation based on the crumbs we've picked up along the way.

But let me pose you this as a final thought: how can it be a good sign when everything being asked about the show, by fans and critics alike, comes down to "Is the show still happening?"

The best time to reveal proof of the LO television show was 3 years ago. The second best time is now.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's Small Paradise Date

⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Date which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡

[Released Date: 1 FEB 2024]

[This date was translated with the help of Google translate ~]

[Section 1]

Some stuffy and warm air flow disrupted my sleep. I stretched and yawned, fumbling to turn off the air conditioner before slowly opening my eyes.

The sky was already clear, and the faint light leaking through the curtains was blocked by the broad figure in front of me, outlining undulating contours.

MC: Shaw…..

I couldn't help but reach out and poke his shoulder.

MC: Are you awake?

Shaw [sleepy voice]: …..Mm.

Shaw didn't turn around; instead, a nasal-toned response drifted over gently.

MC: When did you wake up? Shaw: Twenty minutes ago. MC: How come you woke up first and didn't even call me? Shaw [in a cold indifferent tone]: Wouldn't it be better to wake up naturally? MC: ……?

Seeing him continuously speaking with his back turned to me, I poked him in confusion.

MC: Shaw, are you on your phone? Why are you maintaining that posture for so long? Shaw: Nope.

...If I can't hear the indifference in his tone now, then I must be a fool.

But this early in the morning, I haven't even had the chance to annoy him, right? I couldn't help but pout.

MC: Can you turn around? It's awkward to talk like this.

Shaw [sulking×1]: Isn't this the distance you wanted? MC: ...When did I ever want this kind of distance? Don't casually slander people…..ugh!

Before I could finish speaking, the next moment, a shadow had already descended heavily upon me, rendering me immobile.

MC: Wha-what are you doing...? Shaw: What do you mean, of course, it is to judge you.

His breath tickled my forehead, making me instinctively wrinkle my nose. This action seemed to be misunderstood by Shaw as resistance, so he chuckled coldly.

Shaw [continuation×2 + sounds a little bit hurt]: I'm asking you, last night I pulled you into my arms twice, and you struggled free twice. What's the meaning of that? Shaw [×3]: Do you despise me? MC: Of course not!

I suddenly felt incredibly unjust. Just as I was about to argue with him, a vague memory flashed through my mind, causing my words to get stuck in my throat.

Last night, I did feel his hands assertively wrap around me.

And then, in a half-asleep state, it seems like... I subconsciously struggled to free myself a couple of times.

Thinking about this, I awkwardly tugged at the corner of my mouth.

MC [testing the water]: Uh, yesterday doesn't count, right? Shaw [in a cold threatening voice]: Why doesn't it count?

My mind raced as I quickly searched for reasons to justify my actions from yesterday.

MC: Because the air conditioning was set high yesterday, it was a bit hot when we were cuddled together... MC: And, um, your arm was a bit too firm and uncomfortable to rest on, so I... um, made a technical adjustment!

Shaw [sulking×4 + feeling hurt]: You mean, you feel uncomfortable when I hold you to sleep?

[T/N]: Call me insane but I'm in love with his sulky and pouty voice *bangs my head on the wall*

MC: I didn't say I felt uncomfortable, it was...well, my body didn't listen to me in my sleep… Shaw [×5]: Oh, so it was just your body instinctively moving away from me.

MC: No! Shaw, why are you like this…

Seeing the situation escalating, I didn't know how else to explain myself. Shaw had already cut me off.

Shaw [smirks]: Okay.

Shaw squinted his eyes halfway and interrupted me.

Shaw [someone is holding a grudge]: It's really my problem that I didn't take your feelings into consideration.

Shaw [finally made up his mind]: I'll pay attention next time.

As the restraints on me loosened, Shaw turned to get off the bed. I quickly sat up and grabbed his arm, blinking at him with a hint of guilt.

MC: Wait, wait, are you sure you're not just saying the opposite out of anger? Shaw: Am I that kind of person?

Shaw raised his eyebrows as he spoke, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

MC: …..?!

I stared at him in astonishment, and he responded with an innocent yet subtle smile.

Shaw [reluctantly accepts the current situation + plays the part of a wounded person]: It's just one night without cuddling. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future.

Shaw [lovingly]: Besides, today is Valentine's Day. Why would I quarrel with my dear and beloved?

—

[Section 2]

Something was off. Very off.

After getting up, Shaw went about his morning routine as if nothing had happened. He even "thoughtfully" brought me breakfast from downstairs.

However, my keen intuition told me — this guy was definitely still sulking.

MC: The worst I can do is stay still tonight… Shaw: What did you say? MC: I said, Tonight, you can pull me however you want, I'll definitely stay put!

Shaw: …… Shaw [sighs]: Why are you still worrying about what happened in the morning? I forgot about it. MC: Is that so?

Shaw didn't answer my question, he just raised his hand and pushed the soy milk on the table towards me.

Shaw: Only a three-year-old child loves to pry like this. Hurry up and drink your soy milk, we should go to the antique shop after you're done. MC: Huh, are we spending Valentine's Day at the antique shop today? Shaw: I was just planning to clean up there, but if you want to spend time there, that's fine too. MC: Why clean up today?

Shaw saw that I was still confused, and a familiar teasing smile appeared on his face.

Shaw [laughs + starts teasing her]: Tsk tsk, isn't there someone who dreams of getting rich overnight every day? How could you forget that today is also the fifth day of the Lunar New Year when we welcome the God of Wealth?

MC: !!Welcoming the God of Wealth! We need to hurry and set off, or else we'll be late, what if there's traffic on the God of Wealth's route?

I instantly got excited and quickly finished the soy milk, pulling Shaw towards the door.

With one hand being pulled by me, Shaw used his other hand to grab a couple's beret from the hanger and put it on my head.

Shaw [clicks his tongue + in a low, sulking, jealous voice]: ...Who knew in the eyes of a fool, the God of Wealth is more important than 'lover'.

[T/N]: MC WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!

—

The antique shop has been closed for less than half a month, and there was already a thin layer of dust in the room.

We quickly divided the tasks and started cleaning with our respective tools.

Before long, the various items in the store were shining with their appropriate luster and colors.

Shaw lit a stick of incense and respectfully placed it in front of the God of Wealth's altar. Then, he found a yellow paper from somewhere and spread it out on the table, picking up a brush to start writing.

Curiously, I leaned in to see what he was writing and followed along with his vigorous strokes, reading each word aloud.

MC: Inviting the Five God of Wealth to descend, humbly requesting... What is this?

Shaw: It's the invocation script for the Five God of Wealth. Shaw: Since we're welcoming the God of Wealth, we should do it properly. We need to specify our wishes, our address, the auspicious date... everything has to be written meticulously. Shaw [as a matter of fact]: Otherwise, how would the God's know who is asking for wealth? MC: Oh, I see. It's like how some people nowadays report their ID numbers when they go to burn incense! Shaw [chuckles]: That's what it means. MC: Then you quickly help me write it, may the God of Wealth bless us to win big prizes every day this year, and even pick up money while walking! Shaw: Why, the jackpot won last year wasn’t big enough?

Thinking of my experience of becoming an island owner and winning an RV last year, I raised my chin proudly.

Reference from his “Four season” event and “6th Anniversary” event!

MC: Hum hum, I am so greedy! MC: Besides, if I won a lottery, it will benefit both of us~

Shaw [in sync with her energy]: Alright, I'll help you write it. Let me keep benefiting from your good luck next year.

As I watched Shaw earnestly write down the whimsical wishes, a hint of sweetness brewed in my heart.

It felt as though some kind of power was truly born from his brush strokes, capable of conveying our intentions to the ethereal Gods.

We spread the invocation script in front of the God of Wealth statue, just after lighting the incense and making our wishes, when suddenly there were two knocks on the door of the shop.

We both turned around and faced Mr. Yan's smiling face. The other person held a pig doll in one hand and made a bow to us.

Lao Yan: Shaw, MC, Happy New Year!

[T/N]: Here Lao Yan calls them little Ling and little MC in Chinese but it doesn't look great in the EN version so gonna go along with just their names only.

Shaw [in a cheerful voice]: Happy New Year to you, old man. What's the matter? Lao Yan: There you go, just this matter in my hands.

Lao Yan had a look of helplessness on his face, and he patted the pig doll in his hand.

Lao Yan: I accidentally washed the doll my granddaughter sleeps with, and just bought her a new one as an apology, but the little girl doesn't want it. Lao Yan: She said this is not what she wants, she doesn't like it. Lao Yan: You young people understand these things better. How about you, MC and you, help me buy one? It's the big New Year, I don't want the little girl to be unhappy because of this.

Shaw and I exchanged a glance, clearly asking for my opinion. I pondered for a moment.

MC: If it's a doll to sleep with, then I know what kind to buy.

—

[Section 3]

Miniature floppy-eared rabbits, chubby ducks, and even anthropomorphic vegetables, insects...

As soon as I entered the doll store, I was dazzled by the dazzling array of dolls.

MC: Wow, this eggplant is so cute!! MC: This long-haired rabbit is so adorable!

I let go of the little rabbit plushie, then hugged a half-sized elephant plush toy, reluctant to let go, I rubbed against it contentedly.

MC: Shaw, this one is so soft to hold!

Shaw stood a few steps away, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

Shaw [elongates his tone]: So you like soft ones so much. MC: Huh? What does that mean?

I was a bit slow to react, and Shaw's jaw raised even higher.

Shaw [a hint of displeasure hidden in his voice]: I said, if you think it is comfortable to hold, buy it. MC [burst out laughing]: ….Pff.

— —Sure enough, you still care!

Unexpectedly, without me probing, this guy exposed his tangled thoughts that he had been holding in for half the day.

I found it somewhat amusing, unable to resist teasing him, I winked at him.

MC [starts acting]: Well, it's too soft for me. I prefer something with just the right amount of firmness when I hug it~

Shaw [shocked]: …..

Shaw seemed momentarily stunned by my comment, his lips parted and closed again, before finally tilting his head to the side in silence.

Shaw [clears his throat + pretends not to hear it and starts teasing her]: Okay, aren't you here to choose a doll for Lao Yan's granddaughter? Why are you discussing your own preferences?

Changing the subject again, how boring. I rolled my eyes and showed him the photo on my phone.

MC: I've found the one I want to buy for the kid. MC: I just had Lao Yan took a photo of the damaged doll. We'll buy the same model.

Shaw [having a hard time to believe]: Are you sure? There are so many new models here.

MC: Of course I'm sure. Didn’t Lao Yan say that this doll was for children to hold while sleeping? MC: It indicates that, in her heart, this is the softest and most familiar comfort toy.

I picked up the doll that was exactly the same as in the photo and gestured towards Shaw.

MC: No matter how good the new models are, they can't compare to the comfort of that one that holds a special place in her heart.

Shaw looked at the doll in my hand and nodded.

Shaw: You know a lot about this. MC: This is my experience. Didn’t you sleep with a stuffed animal when you were a child? Shaw: No  MC [happily]: If you have a chance, you can try it. Sleeping with a doll in your arms will make you feel at ease~

Shaw's expression once again turned peculiar, and he chuckled, then walked over to the shelf.

Shaw: I'm too lazy to try, but you seem to really want to relive the feeling of your childhood. Shaw: Why don't you choose a sleeping doll that you feel comfortable with and has moderate hardness and softness? Shaw [starts playing the role of a wounded person×1]: From now on, you will sleep with it in your arms, and you will feel at ease. Shaw [×2]: Well, I think this red panda one is pretty good… MC: Shaw!

Seeing Shaw earnestly selecting a plush toy, I quickly interrupted his soliloquy.

MC: I don't want this red panda.

Shaw turned his head, returning my gaze defiantly.

Shaw [continues with the act×3]: So, which one do you want? The rabbit, the shark, the giraffe, or maybe the eggplant, the bread? MC: Don't want any!

I reached for the nearby keychain, grabbed his hand, and slipped it into his fingers.

MC: I just want this "red panda", is that okay?

In an instant, a faint blush flashed across Shaw's face, yet he deliberately pouted his lips downward.

Shaw [carefully testing her by acting all innocent]: Weren't some people picky before? Why are they suddenly attracted to it now? MC: It's not like I suddenly took a liking to it now. I've been chasing after him for a very, very long time, planning to stay by his side for the rest of my life!

Shaw's throat bobbed heavily, and he looked down at his ring finger, then raised his gaze, staring longer into my eyes.

Shaw: Even if he's very rigid, very stubborn, and his actions are unreasonable, would you still want this uncomfortable little panda? MC: Yes. MC: Because he gives me the most comfort when he hugs, is that not okay? Shaw: Okay.

Finally, Shaw revealed his brightest smile of the day, and with a flick of his wrist, he firmly clasped my fingertips.

Shaw [in a really really good mood]: But I have to remind you, once you're bound to this little panda, there's no return or exchange.

—

[Section 4]

Even though I was bound to this "little panda," I still couldn't resist the adorable onslaught of the shop's merchandise and ended up buying several plushies.

After delivering the doll to Lao Yan's granddaughter, Shaw and I took the other plushies home.

After I got home, I happily placed the dolls on the sofa one by one, then sat among them and turned on the TV.

MC: This is the perfect sofa!

Shaw [feeling jealous]: ?How come it's perfect? They filled the sofa. Where's my place?

Shaw placed the cola on the coffee table, then discontentedly picked up a small dinosaur by its tail and placed it on the floor. He then squeezed in and pulled me into his arms.

Shaw [feeling satisfied with his action]: .....This is perfect.

The TV kept replaying the New Year's gala from a few days ago. I flipped through a few channels but couldn't find anything interesting, so I simply handed the remote control to Shaw.

MC: Is there anything you want to see? Shaw: No, TV programs are boring to begin with, and the Spring Festival ones are even more boring. MC: Shaw, you're holding a renowned TV show producer in your arms!

Shaw [acts like he just realized this fact]: Oh, how about watching a TV show produced by this well-known program producer?

Shaw, while saying so, actually picked up the remote control and switched to Loveland TV, where a variety show produced by [MC Company name] happened to be airing.

MC: Ah, don’t look—— ——

I let out a cry of dismay, trying to grab the remote control from Shaw, but he deliberately extended his arm to prevent me from taking it away.

Shaw: Why not let me see it? MC: It’s not that you are not allowed to read it, but will you read your final thesis in front of relatives and friends during the Lunar Year? MC: And when I saw the faces of these guests, I was reminded of those troubling things during the shooting again...

When Shaw heard what I said, his interest became even higher.

Shaw: I'm not interested in the show, but I'm very interested in the story that tortures you. Tell me?

What kind of person are you!

I hummed twice, slid down a bit, and rested my head on his shoulder.

MC: Just look at this middle-aged man wearing a pink tie. He was fine during rehearsals, but after the official shoot, he always likes to improvise... MC: And here, do you feel that the editing was stiff? It’s because the original challenge content was not what is being broadcast now… MC: One time, the host and the lighting technician got into an argument, and it ended with everyone's supper being spilled...

Shaw chuckled as he listened to me rambling on about my grievances, occasionally adding a comment or two to commiserate. Meanwhile, the program on the screen gradually came to an end.

This day was obviously no different from any other day, but I felt a fresh sense of comfort cuddling up with him like this.

Was it because he was listening to my worries while shooting? Or was it because the little misunderstanding in the morning was resolved?

Is it because we made a shared wish for this year together in the antique shop? 

Or is it simply because today is Valentine's Day, and our moods are just good?

I can't figure it out, and I'm too lazy to think about it. I just hope that this comfortable feeling can continue indefinitely.

Shaw: MC. MC: ….Hm? Shaw [carefully]: Do you feel comfortable like this now? MC: Hey, why are you thinking about the same thing as me?

I nodded contentedly.

MC: It’s so comfortable now. Your chest is so wide. I can lie down wherever I want~

Shaw [in a good mood + his lazy voice×1]: But didn't you notice that your hair keeps rubbing on my face?

MC: Ah? But I just moved down. Shaw [×2]: A bit further down. MC: Okay... like this?

Shaw clicked his tongue and wrapped one arm around my shoulders while using his other hand to pinch my face, moving my head to rest against his collarbone.

Shaw [satisfied]: This is more comfortable. MC: No no, I feel uncomfortable like this.

I adjusted myself with seriousness and then placed Shaw's hand on my waist before lifting my face to look at him.

MC: What do you think of this posture now? MC: You see, my legs fit perfectly on yours, and there's room for your arms too. MC: My arms can move too, and they won't block your line of sight either...

Shaw [chuckles sexily]: How come you sound like you're giving a product report?

MC: Of course, I have to explain clearly why this position is good! MC: Otherwise, what if we adjust into another awkward position that makes both of us uncomfortable? Shaw: Really.

Shaw lowered his eyes and stared at me. After a moment, he raised the corner of his mouth.

Shaw [HIS HUSKY VOICE FILLED WITH MISCHIEF]: But you seem to have forgotten to mention the biggest advantage of this posture. MC: Hmm? What advantages?

Shaw [IN A LOW SEXY WHISPER]: Kissing you is easy.

He lowered his head and easily captured my slightly parted lips.

The kiss was irresistible. The sweet breath blends into a thin mist, which quickly escapes between the lips and teeth.

I widened my eyes, and the next moment, a long leg firmly pinned down my attempt to move.

Meanwhile, that unreasonable hand firmly held my jaw, and each touch of his fingers along the side of my neck sent shivers down my spine.

Under his assault, the original position gradually collapsed. The plushies on the sofa also fell to the ground one after another in the melee, rolling around with the little dinosaur.

When our lips finally parted, I couldn't help but use my free hand to lightly pinch his arm.

MC: Why did you sneak attack again…

Shaw grinned triumphantly, his eyes filled with the satisfaction of a successful ambush.

Shaw [HIS SULTRY VOICE SKSKSK]: Calling it an ambush doesn't sound too good. Shaw [×2]: This is a lightning strike, specifically targeting the unprepared.

The protest I just uttered was swallowed back by him.

This time, it wasn't clear whose body pressed against the remote control. In the corner of my eye, the noisy scene on the screen flickered twice, then turned into a blank screen.

Suddenly, the room became exceptionally quiet, making each other's breaths and every friction of our clothes unusually clear.

The narrow sofa contained two violently beating hearts, and also contained the romance that only belonged to me and him in this peaceful evening.

My hand inadvertently brushed against his ring finger—where I had left a "trapped" mark during the day.

Now it was empty, but I knew there was no need for any ring to lock it down; this person belonged to me.

MC: By the way, Shaw…

I was immersed in the aftertaste of happiness, and suddenly remembered something.

MC: You said, now that we have adjusted the perfect sitting position, can we also find a sleeping position that is comfortable for both of us? Shaw [×3]: You're addicted to adjusting?

Shaw smiled and lowered his head, lightly nibbling on the tip of my nose.

Shaw [×4]: There's no need to adjust your sleeping position. I've already figured out how to deal with you. Shaw [DAMN HIS VOICE HERE WAS SO SEXY]: Tonight, set the air conditioning to 16 degrees. I don't believe you won't snuggle into my arms.

[T/N]: BYE BYE WORLD, IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOUUUU. Man PG do know how to quench our thirst🤭 damn I wasn't expecting the last part to be soooo hot🔥🔥

—

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