#I should have drawn him in his scarf but I really wanted him to have a red bow l

[smellroy]

🎄🎁Merry Christmas

From myself and my cats! (Pretend this is a card I sent all y’all in the mail)

……hoping this isn’t too late uhhhhhhh….i started it a week ago and meant to finish it today but I was busy 😭😭. I hope y’all had a wonderful Christmas!!!!!!!!

(And more detailed simple version….pretend it’s the front of a postcard lol)

[xxgoldie]

lighter x reader, alcohol (lighter is drunk, nitro-fuel is alcoholic here), otherwise just pure fluff

thinking about lighter, stumbling up to you, the smell of nitro-fuel on his breath (and his shirt - he'd definitely spilled some on himself earlier, though with how unstable he was standing, you were hardly surprised). a bit of a party atmosphere had developed around steeltusk's bar tonight, and lighter had definitely had more than he should have. you had barely joined the gathering for a few minutes, relaxing a bit further from the bar, but as soon as he'd noticed you, he had made a (very wobbly) beeline for you.

"(Y/N)."

his hands went to your shoulder, using you to stabilise himself, even though his weight made you stumble a bit too.

"hi," you laughed, a rare sight to see the champion so discomposed, though he was looking into your eyes with a slightly nervewracking seriousness through those shades.

"we should get married."

it took you a couple beats to process his slurred words. heat rushed to your face, one you hoped, if someone noticed, you could blame on the one drink you'd had so far. you searched his face for the punchline, or any sort of elaboration. all you found was a similar searching - he was waiting for you to answer. he was almost pleading with his eyes, swaying a little from the alcohol - this was absurd.

"you are so drunk," was all you could muster, chuckling in disbelief. lighter collapsed against you, arms wrapping around your neck and head on your shoulder, and you swore you heard a very uncharacteristic whine leave his mouth.

"you don't want to marry me," he pouted - just how many drinks had burnice given him, that lighter lorenz, infamous red scarf of the sons of calydon, was pouting?

"hey, i didn't say that," you comforted him, instinctively petting his hair in a way he seemed to enjoy. and it wasn't a lie - it was something you had dreamed about several times, but... "i just feel like you've skipped a few steps here, you know? we're just friends, lighter. and you really are very drunk."

he picked himself up from your shoulder to look at you again, but he was so close this time, the tip of his nose barely an inch from yours, his full bodyweight still leaning on you. for the first time, you really realised the position the two of you were in, and so publicly, the crowded bar not far away. but you couldn't quite get yourself to focus on them, not when there was so little space between you, and his stupid handsome face took up your entire field of view. the musky scent of his cologne cut through the smell of nitro-fuel and it made your thoughts brain spin even more, so you waited for him to say something. you doubted you could come up with any more coherent thoughts.

"what's step one?" he said eventually. you frowned, not sure what he meant. "what?" "you said I skipped steps. what's step one?" "to marrying me??" "yeah."

once again, you had to pause to process. was this his weird, misguided, honestly really cute, way of confessing to you? there was no way - but there was a sincerity in his gaze that went past alcohol. the best answer would probably be 'ask me on a date when you're sober', but he was too pretty to be considering best answers, and your mouth moved faster than your brain did.

"probably this," you muttered, then pulled him forward by the scarf, closing the distance between you. even drunk, his reaction time was instantaneous - you were the one to initiate the kiss, but his hands were around your waist so quickly it surprised you, pulling you somehow even closer into him. it was clumsy but full of heat, and you could feel his mouth form a victorious grin against yours.

when you eventually pulled away, though, your gaze was immediately drawn away from his to the rest of the sons of calydon, who were whooping and cheering from the bar.

"yes! i told you it'd go well, lighter!" caesar called, shooting you a wink. Lighter only responded to her with a thumbs up, his head returning to rest on your shoulder again.

"did you tell him to do that?" you yelled back, head still reeling from the kiss.

"so what? neither of you were gonna take the leap sober," she replied, and you realised she wasn't behind his words - not intentionally, anyway.

"he proposed to me!"

a round of shocked laughter from the gang, except for lucy;

"he WHAT?"

i truly had no idea how to end this. but like. i love lighter so so much but i especially love him being dorky and down bad. wc: 757

[snowmeow03]

I suddenly realized that as a pegasister, I have never formally drawn ponyplates (hoofplates??) in my way, so suddenly (literally 3am in my time zone) I wanna give it a shot.

I thought about Gaster's cutting, and in theory, since he's not a skeleton anymore, shearing his fur is obviously the best choice. But I feel that it doesn't capture the vibe of him “ripping apart his own body", so in the end, I chose to let him cut his horn. Hmm, maybe the body part full of magic is a must to create baby ponies.

Theoretically speaking, it's more reasonable for both of the brothers to be unicorns, but when I pictured Papyrus, I see him more as a pegasus. Well perhaps there're some pegasus in pony Gaster's family tree. But there's kind of a problem that Pegasus can already fly, how can I show the "special" of Papyrus? So, like, why not make Papyrus only have one wing! Perhaps another one was chopped off by Gaster to prevent him from escaping or something. Sans, I really can't imagine any way to disguise his blind eyes as well as showing his unique eye sockets, I mean, since he's not a skeleton anymore (again). In the end, I chose the latter between fidelity to the character and making sense, although this made them a bit less recognizable (sadly)

I hesitated for a long time about the cutie mark. Gaster’s was more straightforward, I needed to came up with something that is related to science but can also reflect the fate of "doing experiments", so I settled on this thing (funny enough, I still don’t know what it’s called, even though it’s probably common knowledge...?). In fact, I also want to express an abstract concept of "recording", including recording the timeline, "recording" the changes in Dreemurrs' and the underground world, and "recording" Radic's actions? Unfortunately, I really can't find a way to reflect the fate of falling into the core on it! The cutie marks of the brothers is much more difficult because they do not have a very specific hobby/lifestyle (like science for Gaster) to represent themselves, which is complicate - if I have to pick, I think their representative items are scarves and socks (...!) - although Papyrus loves puzzles, using puzzles as cutie mark cannot reflect his most important principles and personality, and Sans is even more difficult to handle. In short, their representatives are very abstract, and I find it so hard to summarize their very selves with a single mark on their flank! At last I tried to consider after combining the characteristic of "brothers", positive and negative. I always feel that Gaster's red scarf represents his kind heart, inherited by Papyrus along with the scarf itself, so it naturally occupies a place in his mark (unlike socks to Sans, lol). Sans' mark is more abstract, those things can actually be seen as dissipating dust or as a part of lost head, representing, uh, some obvious things...I guess? I actually even considered using the shapes of the souls Gaster gave them, representing Gaster himself who plays a huge part in their lives, but well it's a little bit tragic if you think about that, their lives should be less of him (in the sense of experiments), so I didn't do that in the end.

I also considered about the clothes. Well...Different from monsters, ponies normally don't wear clothes, in this situation it'll be weird if Gaster specially made lab clothes for the brothers to wear, so I l just let them go naked. Once again, the recognizability has unfortunately decreased...! (also about Sans' clothes, I don't think ponies actually "need" pockets...right?)

Yeah and about the plates, I literally cannot figure out where the plates should go, Gaster was trying to make sure the brothers suffer as he wanted to cut ties with them (at least that's what I thought), so they can't be anything like horseshoes. Tags on the ears are great, but still a little bit off, and I can't think of any "plates" fits both settings of pony and handplates... So I ended up going with brand marks (actually I set this for Dreemurrs in alterplates as well). As for the placement? I think they shall be the lower half and it'll be too screwed up if they were on the cutie marks, so hind legs it is. I don't think ponies wear pants, so I made the brothers wear leggings.

btw I think the brothers got the cutie marks right after Sans yeeted Gaster into the core (welp)

[quakiebaka]

⚖️BEHOLD, One and All!🪄

Troupe Gramarye's Apollo Justice and Prodigy Defense Attorney Trucy Wright!

Swap AU art of my recent favorite duo of all time! First time drawing them and it was an absolute joy to have them be the first thing I've properly drawn in months. Ace Attorney has a grip on me dear lord,, I should draw them more.....

[ Timelapse/ramblings under the cut ]

Trucy

trucy was so difficult to pose/design :sob:

her right hand is a reference to edgeworth's thinking sprite :)

you can see i almost gave her a jabot like edgeworth's but decided against it since the neck area was getting too cluttered

(which is why i switched the neck scarf around instead. its very iconic to her)

why edgeworth? because I am an "uncle miles -> papa" truther. aka narumitsu.

trucy's dress shirt is color picked from wright's aa5+ vest! her outfit overall is very inspired by his.

I considered taking away trucy's gloves but like her neck scarf, it's a part of her i cant take away

Apollo

was originally gonna just draw polly but it escalated quickly

went with valant's troupe gramarye long sleeve outfit bc I felt it suited apollo better

small little thing I noticed about the gramarye's is that thalassa's the only one without the neck flap things for the cape. so this is my slight little nod to trans apollo because i didnt want to draw the flaps. its a win-win

obvious ace of spades card is obvious turnabout trump reference. also phoenix's other cards

had to switch apollo's left hand to the front because the cape was in the way and i didnt wanna deal with cape physics/folding

other ramblings! AA4+ spoilers!

I like to think that trucy got very inspired by wright once she got taken in by him and that kickstarted her desire to become a defense attorney early on. she wanted to help out as much as possible with income. she also doesn't like magic that much anymore because it reminds her of her bio dad, which is really upsetting. kristoph takes this as an opportunity to mentor her since phoenix really can't take her to help with his cases, so this is how she takes apollo's place. turnabout trump is her first case.

as for apollo, i have no idea how he gets to becoming a magician since im still confused by his multiple backstories!! too many ideas that contradict the story. uhhh, let's just say he gets the rights because somehow magnifi finds out about him (prob through thalassa before the shootem) and apollo gets the rights sent over to him as a kid (apollo doesnt really question it) and he just. never told zak or valant about it. so zak still thinks he has the rights to pass it down to trucy. but trucy didn't even pursue magic so it all worked out anyway? hooray!

[monayen]

Hello! 👋 I love your Luther fics, you write him so well 💖 I have a bit of an odd request for him if you don't mind.

Could you do headcanons of Luther with a S/O who is aroused by his inhuman nature please? Like they're turned on by the fact that he is a cryptid and could potentially be dangerous if he wanted to. Maybe size kink stuff could also factor in? Anyways I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

➷ Paring - Luther Von Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - slight biting, size kink

a/n - this is an incredibly old ask, i am SO sorry i took forever on this,, im trying my best to do the older asks so if you’ve been waiting pleasedontkillme. anyhoot I LOVE LUTHER!!!!

Luther interests you immediately when you first lay your eyes on him

His big, wide eyes almost look small on his long face. Thin lips drawn into a line as he stares back at you. His brown pageboy haircut sways a bit in the light breeze, and you realize that you’re eyeing a stranger at the park

He notices immediately, walking up to you and making you realize how tall he is. At least 6’1, but you’re sure if he wasn’t hunching ever so slightly, he’d seem bigger

“You’re staring, you must like my new scarf.” He says, his voice smooth. It’s not as deep as you expected, almost monotone

He gestures to his dark green wooly scarf wrapped around his neck, noting the several rings adorning his long fingers. You also notice that the scarf is the only warming item of clothing on his body. Which is weird, considering its late fall in Canada

You nod, trying to break his gaze to not let nervousness overcome you. He’s interesting, and you think maybe he likes you with the round blush below his big, unblinking eyes. Swallowing any anxiety you’re sure he can sense, you hold out your trembling hand

“Would you like to get dinner?”

Time passes, and you realize very quickly just how special Luther really is

His house looms, halls leading into rooms and rooms that seem impossible to keep track of. He introduces you to his younger brother, Randal, who bombards you with questions you can barely register before Luther scolds him for overwhelming you

Very quickly, you say it’s alright– you’re just trying to think of a proper response. You’ll get back to him on who your favorite Joker is, it’s been a while since you’ve seen the movies

Your response to his brother seems to please Luther, liking how you don’t blow him off or get weirded out by his… big personality. His brother does mean a lot to Luther!

Then it’s his catmen, two almost twin like men with cat ears and drawn whiskers. You watch as they follow him, listening to him when he asks them to bring you a cup of water after you mention you’re thirsty

He’s the man of the house, he says. Responsible for all his family. It can be hard, he continues, but he tries his best. He’s only human after all ♡

Human, you think, totally

When Luther talks, you pay attention to the sharpness of his teeth. Mouth large as he bites into a sandwich, and you can only imagine him biting into your shoulder with those jagged teeth, long arms wrapped around you as he pulls you onto his lap—

You fantasize about being completely dwarfed and overpowered by him. The idea of being helpless and at the mercy of his inhuman strength is something that makes you shiver 

You also love the way Luther casually invades your personal space, always standing too close, his presence overwhelming your senses. His proximity makes your heart race, aching to feel his large, cold hands on you 

“What are you thinking, schatz?” He says, and maybe he didn’t mean to slightly open his second set of eyes, but he does… and you notice

Perhaps you should question it, but you’re sure it would be rude to bring it up to Luther. He’s not typical, nothing around him is as human as he thinks it is. For as long as he tells you he’s been around, you’d think he’d have it down by now

But it's okay, you think he’s cute the way he is :)

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hii!! i haven’t stopped by in a while😭😭 how are you doing? i’m so happy it’s almost autumn. it’s literally the marauders’ monthh

could i request a bookshop meet cute with remus? tysmm! <33

-🎀

hii my lovely 🎀! always so nice to hear from you and dw ofc, i've been very off and on anyway i'm good! just reveling in the best season of the year 🍂 how are you! loved this request; bookish remus is the best remus; hope you like it 🫶 wc: 1.3k, fluff

bookshop meet cute with remus

The breeze hits you just right as you turn the corner, and the feeling of the cool air on your skin is simply reinvigorating. “Fucking hell, I hate this place. Summer shouldn’t be over already!” you hear a fellow pedestrian lamenting to their walking partner. 

You can’t relate. You smile to yourself, reveling in enjoying the change of season. 

The warm air of the bookshop contrasts delightfully to the outside air as you walk in, unwrapping yourself from your big scarf. It smells like coffee and long nights filled with fantastic words in here, and you take a deep breath.

You start browsing, intrigued by the new titles, drawn to your usual favourite sections. It’s not long before you’re balancing quite a few books, content to live in the imaginary world where you actually get them all for a little while longer.

You find a similar one to one already in your stack but that you want more, so you try to maneuver the previous pick from the middle of the stack to put it back. And of course your tower topples. 

You bend over to start picking up the books and bump into a display table, which really should’ve been arranged a bit more stably; I mean, come on, it’s not like you moved it that much. But, a stack of books on it comes tumbling down, and to your great embarrassment, they fall by someone’s legs. And, god, when you look up from your crouch at the person now looking down to see what just happened, you go from embarrassed to horrified. He’s beautiful. And staring down at you. 

You should really say something at this point, but words — usually your friends, betraying you now in your moment of need, how dare they — don’t come out. 

“You alright?” he asks gently, and of course, his voice is mellow and mellifluous.

“Umm,” is all you manage to muster. 

He crouches down and starts stacking the display table books. 

“I always wonder at how these wonky arrangements don’t get toppled more often,” he says lightly, probably trying to make you feel better. You give him a strained smile, and he returns an adorable grin that makes you really wish you knew what his full smile looked like. 

“You’re going to have to tell me which of these were yours and which should go back on the table,” he chuckles. “Oh, right,” you finally speak, and you get a small smile in return. “Um, that one,” you point. “And these.” You start collecting them. 

He just nods and keeps organizing the books. When he grabs a couple of the ones you were holding, he stops to read the blurbs.

With his eyes on the books rather than on you, you snatch the opportunity to really look at him. The first word that comes to mind is “warm.” The shades of brown of his messy hair, his focused eyes, his cosy jumper, it looks so warm. He looks so warm, and you feel it in your chest. 

He looks up at you, and you start, worried he’s noticed you staring. If he has, he doesn’t let on, just grins at you. “You know I read somewhere once that seeing someone reading a book you like is like a book recommending a person instead of the other way around,” he tells you. He lifts the book in his hand, shows you the cover before handing it back to you. “This happens to be one of my favourite books,” he says more softly, almost conspiratorially. 

“Oh,” you say, and you really wish you’d remember how to speak soon. 

“Hm,” he affirms. “Please tell me it was part of your selection and not the table’s. Otherwise, I’m going to have to insist it change categories, so you can at least consider it.” “No, yeah, it was mine.” Okay, good. At least when he asks questions, you give actual answers. 

“Brilliant,” he smiles. His smile is what’s brilliant. “So you’ve probably not read it yet?” “No,” you say softly. “I envy you your first time.” 

“I’m excited,” you whisper. 

The books sorted, you both finally stand up again. He’s finishing returning the display books when he notices your scarf still on the floor. 

“Oh, here,” he says, grabbing it. But your hands are full, and you’re not sure how to grab it from him without dropping everything again and making an even bigger fool of yourself. You both do an awkward little dance of trying to figure out how to accomplish the seemingly very simple task of his handing you your scarf. Finally, with a chuckle, he straightens it out and brings it over your head, adjusting it over your shoulders. He doesn’t get too close, but he did have to move closer to put it on, and your heart is beating very fast at the proximity. You were right about the warmth, and you’re sure your cheeks are reflecting it, but there’s not much you could do about it. When he takes a step back, you wish he hadn’t.

A few seconds go by, and when you still don’t say anything, with a bit of an awkward air but a warm smile nonetheless, he says, “Alright, well, I hope you enjoy the book.”

“Thanks.” 

He nods and slowly starts to turn to go. You’re so nervous, but your heart is screaming at you not to let it end there just because you can be a bit shy. 

“And thanks for helping me,” you add a bit too quickly, simultaneously praising yourself for your bravery and scolding yourself for your awkwardness. He turns toward you again. “Yeah, no worries,” he says, and he lets out a seemingly relieved breath. 

You chuckle nervously. He does too. 

“I’m Remus, by the way,” he says, extending a hand. 

You go to take it, but realize your hands are still busy holding the books. 

“Oh, right. Obviously,” he says, realizing and looking a bit embarrassed himself as he brings his hand down.

He’s looking at you like he’s expecting something, and you don’t know what it is. Until you do, a few too many seconds later. “Oh!” Too loud, yikes. “I’m Y/N.” Too soft, over-correcting. You cringe at yourself. “Hi, Y/N.” Okay, maybe getting to hear your name in his voice has made all the awkwardness more than worth it. “Hi.” 

“That’s a lot of books,” he says, nodding toward your arms. 

“Yeah, I, uh, well, yes, I can’t get them all. But I hadn’t gotten to the choosing part yet.” “That part’s always painful,” he says. “Fun, but painful.” “Mhhm.”

He’s slightly swaying back and forth; his hand comes to rub the back of his neck. For the first time, you think that maybe he’s nervous too. 

“Well, you’ve helped,” you say. He lifts his eyebrows in question. “Well, I can’t take your favourite book out of the running now, can I?” He chuckles.

“That would be quite tragic.” 

“Quite.” 

Another awkward silence. But you’d suffer through as many awkward silences as would let you keep talking to Remus. Remus, what a lovely name. So fitting.  

“Um, have you read any of these other ones?” you ask, lifting your stack. “Maybe you can help me choose?” Wherever this new found bravery was coming from, you thanked any gods that were listening for it. When he smiles at you, it hits you like a wave that this man is probably going to pull a lot more bravery out of you yet. “Um, yeah, I’d love to take a look. I probably haven’t read them… but it sounds nice to talk about them anyway?” “Yeah, it does. Sound nice.” 

“Great.” “Mhhm.” “Do you want to go sit down and look through them?” “Mhhm.” 

“Great,” and that brilliant smile. That smile you hoped you’d get to see many, many more times.

[wisteriadumster]

Blizzard ❥ Arthur Morgan

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ ⋆ sex ⋆ making out ⋆ p in v ⋆ m! & f! orgasm ⋆ sweaty lots of sweat ⋆

WC➻❥1775➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ you and Arthur are headed back to colter to find some things that various gang members had left behind. A storm begins to pick up so you go to one of the old lodges to stay out of the storm and stay warm. While by the fire you admit to Arthur that you want him, and he lets you have him.

A/N➻❥ sorry i havent posted i really just really didnt know what to write for a fanfiction

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

Do not steal or translate my work!

 You were riding deep in Ambarino with Arthur. Riding back to Colter in search of a few belongings other gang members had left behind. “I think a storm is coming, the snow is falling harder.” Arthur rode beside you, the outline of Colter in the distance. “We’ll camp there then,” you responded and tightened the scarf that laid on your head. 

 You slowed your horse's pace with Arthur’s, riding to the stables that the gang had used just months prior. “Should we wait out the storm and look later?” You opened one of the pens for your stallion. “It’s getting worse by the minute so I think that's wise.” Arthur blew hot air into his cupped and gloved hands.

 You entered one of the cabins, wood still left over. Arthur started a fire as you searched Dutch’s old room. You dug around, looking for a pocket mirror that Molly had left behind. “Fires goin’ if you want to warm up.” Arthur leaned against the doorframe, watching as you close a drawer.

 You sat by the fire with Arthur, staring at the flames. “How are you, deputy?” You laughed at the fact a man like Arthur managed to become a deputy. “Oh shut up,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “it’s all for Dutch, ain’t nothin’ serious.” Arthur looked at you, slightly annoyed by your teasing. 

 “Since this storm isn’t clearing any time soon, can I admit something?” You watched as Arthur placed another log into the fire, Arthur didn’t answer, he didn’t care what you did or didn’t say. “I want you.” That piqued his interest, “‘cuse me?” He looked at you, unsure if he had misheard you. “I, want, you.” You were obsessed with how good he looked in that coat, “and what would you do if ya had me?” He played into your words.

 “Well first I would make you sit down.” You stood up, untying the scarf that covered your head. Arthur moved to his seat and sat down, “then I would build up to the moment.” You hiked your skirt up and sat in his lap, your hands cupped his face, and your lips hovered by his. “That’s only if I had you,” you teased, Arthur’s chest slowly rising and falling in the intimacy of the moment, “then I give myself away.” He whispered and kissed you first, you accepted it and rolled your hips in.

 You were so drawn into the kiss, your lips were squished together. You explored each other, Arthur’s lips exploring past your lips as he trailed down to the tenderness of your neck. You brought your head back, tightening those muscles his lips kissed. The feeling of his lips gently touching and sucking your neck was something you had never experienced but you yearned for it to never stop. A moan slivered out your lips in pleasure, Arthur smiled against your neck.

 “Aren’t I supposed to have you?” You push his shoulders back, you look down, already missing his lips. “Can’t I want you too,” he looked up through his eyelashes, his eyes piercing yours with a lust you were already addicted to. “Well if you can get me,” Arthur processed your words as you got up and disappeared into his old room.

 “No where you can go now,” Arthur smirked as you stood in the middle of the room. “First outlaw catch as a deputy.” You smile at the tease once again, “quite a memorable first catch.” He responds, watching as you slowly removed layers, regardless of the frigid temperatures, and raging blizzard. Arthur came close as you got to your thick dress. He looked down as the dress slowly fell down you, exposed skin getting a wave of goosebumps. Arthur dropped his gunbelt and satchel, letting them hit the floor which was becoming a pile of clothing. He removed his neckerchief, his gloves following behind. His hands went to remove his now unbuttoned coat, “keep it on,” you put a hand on his. He obliged and dropped his hands, staring as you stood in your undergarments.

 You stepped over the mass of clothing and kissed him, his unbuttoned blue shirt exposing his warm chest. His rough hands had a tight grip on your hips as he pulled you into him, holding you tight as your lips reconnected, locking themselves into a consuming kiss. Your hands traced Arthurs torso, going down his body's natural lines of his fitness. Arthur’s hands moved up your body, following your body’s shape as he held your waist before he trailed back down to your hips and then your ass, gripping it hard. A hand continued down and raised your thigh up, he rubbed up and down it. 

 Arthur pulled back, “stay here.” He disappeared, leaving you to shiver as he rose commotion in the main room. “Arthur?” You shouted in confusion, “come out Darlin’.”

 Arthur had pulled the mattress and blanket from Dutch’s room and set them on the floor where the chairs had been, there were also fresh logs in the fire. “Oh wow,” you were surprised by the set up, it felt so romantic. “I figured you’d get cold in just that, or when you’re out of it.” Arthur was sitting on the mattress.

 You began to crawl up from the end, crawling in between his legs. You were over him, now straddled on his hips, his hard cock pressing into your thigh. Your lips were brushing together as he pulled the straps of your underwear down, pushing the fabric down your body revealing more skin. Arthur let out air as he stared at your breasts, mesmerized by the sight. He kept pushing, leaving your undergarments scrunched at your hips. You got off Arthur, looking down at him, there was a slight smirk curling at his lips as he watched. Following the shape of your body as you pulled the clothes off, he kept his eyes on you as you tossed your underwear behind you.

 You returned to your spot, laying a trail of messy kisses down his body, starting at his lips and down to his abs. You stopped at his waistband, you ran a hand on his leg, going over his hard bulge which made him jitter at the touch. You undid his button and curled the waistband down, his union shirt blocking you. “After building up to the moment, I’d have you take control.” You whispered along his body as you came up, “oh really?” His whispers were seductive, you felt an arm graze you as his hand went to unbutton his union suit. “Really,” you whispered against his lips, grinning as you let them linger and connect as Arthur prepared himself. A hand went up the back of your thigh, the tips of his fingers touching your inner thigh, it made you twitch. 

 He held your ass as you pulled away and slowly, with his guidance, let his dick enter. It was smooth going into your absolutely drenched pussy. Arthur tensed as you let a gasp out, both adjusting to the feelings. Your hands went up Arthur's chest as you supported yourself, Arthur held your breasts, his thumbs circling and arousing your nipples. You began to rise and lower, Arthur went to your waist, helping to support you as you started to ride him.

“Fuck,” you moaned as you both began to gain momentum. Arthurs grip was getting tight as your pace quickened. “Darlin’,” he groaned in pleasure, captivated by your deep eye contact. You bit your lip as his tip hit the right spot. 

 You were both starting to sweat, the fire was blazing and surely contributing to the uncomfortable feeling that wasn’t in either of your minds. Your back arched with movement, your hips beginning to move in circles for added pleasure, both of you enjoyed. Your stomach was beginning to tighten with your on-coming climax.

 Your grinding was synced with Arthur’s thrusting, who was breathing heavily, sweat beading at his hairline. Your palms were pushing into Arthur’s ribs as your breathing quickened and your moans grew louder. “Oh, fuck!” You screamed as his thrusts began to quicken and hit that spot. “Don’t stop,” you managed in between a moan, your hands came in, your nails scratched Arthurs chest.

 Your legs tightened, your chest following behind. Suddenly with one final and intense thrust you both relaxed and mixed your moans with groans. You collapsed onto Arthurs chest, your legs twitched and quivered as your orgasm descended from its high. You laid on Arthurs panting chest, you were breathing just as hard and fast. Your hair was soaked with sweat, your body laying on Arthurs sweaty body. You were surprised he managed to keep his jacket on, you were hot, you could barely imagine how hot Arthur was. “Jesus,” Arthur mumbled as he came out of a haze.

 You came up, now sitting just above his hips. You leaned in and went for a gentle and caring kiss, your lips caressed each other before they linked. “I didn’t think I could be so hot in a blizzard,” you smiled against his lips. “Neither could I Darlin’.” He agreed, his hands wrapped around your back as he held you close. 

 “Quite a catch deputy,” You pulled back and sat up, a stupid smirk on your face. “I hope this didn’t teach you a lesson, I’d like to catch you again.” He played into the joke, “oh I’m sure you would, Deputy Morgan, or is it Deputy Callahan.” You giggled, looking at the attractive man under you, he was even hotter covered in sweat after sex. 

 “Should we go searchin’ for what we came for?” You were tracing his body again, “the storm is calming, but I don’t want this to end.” His hands were caressing your breasts and waist. “Oh this is just the beginning,” you winked and stood up, running to change.

 “When can I put my deputy skills to work again?” Arthur pushed back his own sweat-soaked hair and put his hat on. The cold air was cooling you fast now that you weren’t by the fire. “I guess next time I do something bad, like not contributing to camp.” You flirted with your eyes and you pulled your dress on. “Oh we wouldn’t want that,” Arthur came closer, buttoning his shirt as he came. You put your arms through your jacket, Arthur put his hands on your waist. “Meet me outside, then maybe I’ll catch you stealing that isn’t yours.” He teased, referring to you getting lost gang member items. “I’ll be on the lookout for something shiny.” You grabbed your gloves and scarf, ready to follow Arthur out of the lodge.

[captn-trex]

angel of small death

Howzer x F!Reader / Twi'lek!Reader 

word count: 10k / 24k

part one | part two | part three

description: after the rise of the Empire, Howzer finds his position on Ryloth to be precarious at best, but his attention is drawn from his troubles when he finds himself captivated by a new politician’s arrival

warnings/tags: NSFW 18+ !!! strangers to lovers, mutual pining, a little bit of political stuff, fluff, smut, dirty talk, fingering, pinv sex, soft dom!howzer, praise kink, title kink? edging? oh my I'm so bad at tagging smut

a/n: for the full effect, listen to jeff buckley’s ‘everybody here wants you’ at the beginning. did I give reader lilac skin just because of this song? yes. yes I did. don't ask me what's goin on with the smut ok, idk either. wkfjh why am I scared to share this I just want to hide in a hole forever now. also sorry about the poem. (whole thing in one is on ao3)

masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3

Ostentatious. That was the word Howzer would use to describe Senator Orn Free Taa's estate.

High ceilings, gaudy silver curtains and a vivid blue carpet that ran throughout the marble halls. It resembled the more imposing areas of the senate bureau, but devoid of any of the charm. Thankfully, the room that Howzer would have to be standing at attention in for the duration of the evening was slightly less over the top, though no less opulent with its golden chandeliers and dark wood floor.

The people, however, left much to be desired. Extravagantly dressed Senators and other people of political importance shared sparkling drinks in fancy glasses, talking, laughing and dancing with each other. Every smile he saw seemed false, an act that should be genuine reduced to a political play. He couldn't help but think that you didn't fit in here, but then again, you weren't here. Howzer hadn't seen you since yesterday, and with the celebration already in full swing, he didn't presume that he would.

The lavish party was supposed to be a celebration, an important day in Ryloth’s history, but with the way the people in front of him went on, and how the discussions of late had been, Howzer couldn't help but let indignance rise in his gut. Not a single one of these politicians cared about Ryloth. They didn't care about its past or its present, and they certainly didn't care about its future.

It was sickening. The wealth that surrounded him was unmistakable in a particularly vile way. It was all a distraction from what was really going on, the corruption that was embedded within the people who held the power.

Any negative thoughts spilled from Howzer's mind as soon as his eyes caught the figure standing at the top of the grand staircase. He was pretty sure that his heart actually stopped beating at the sight of you.

You had forgone you heavy robes in favour of a silky dress that hung from your figure and perfectly framed your body, a thin scarf that laid over your neck and draped down your back, and a headpiece adorned by pearly beads that dangled around your face and down your lekku. The thing that caught Howzer's attention the most, however, was the colour of your dress. It was teal, the exactly shade that decorated his armour. He couldn't help but think that you looked incredible in his colour, perfectly complimenting the hues of your skin.

He watched as you gracefully descended the stairs, one hand sliding along the rail, the other holding your dress so you wouldn't trip. You were a vision, like an angel descending from the sky, and suddenly Howzer didn't care at all about whether or not he was allowed to have you.

At the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by a small crowd that had gathered during your entrance. Howzer had been too enraptured by you yourself to notice, his mouth still hung open a fraction as he watched you navigate through the people demanding your attention. He wasn't surprised in the least, you were the most gorgeous being here by far.

As you made your way across the room, seemingly zeroed in on something, or someone, Howzer saw that your dress was backless, plunging down to your lower back, the only thing covering your skin being the thin, almost non-existent scarf that hung from your neck. He had to bite into his lip to save from letting his jaw hit the floor.

You made your way over to a Pantoran woman dressed in maroon, whose eyes widened comically upon seeing you, throwing her arms around your neck and almost knocking you back. Your laughter carried across the room, entering through Howzer ears and bouncing around in his head, the most delightful thing he'd ever heard. The woman handed you a drink, clinking your glasses together as you beamed at each other.

Your back was to him as the two of you caught up, and he couldn't help but trail his eyes down your body. He wondered what it would be like to be able to touch you, how your skin would feel as he ran a hand down your spine. It felt like you were taunting him, begging him to lose his composure. Whether you meant to or not, it was working.

Howzer was so lost in admiring you that he missed the way your friend nodded to him, catching him in the act. You turned, your eyes searching for a moment before your gaze settled on him. It froze him in his place, his eyes locked with yours. You swirled your drink gently in your hand, offering a small smile to him before turning back to your conversation, but not before Howzer managed to catch the blush that tinted your cheeks.

You continued to talk with your Pantoran friend, until she got called away by someone else, leaving you by yourself for the time being. Howzer was itching to go over and talk with you, just be close with you in any way he could, despite his previous words about how forbidden it was. Before he could make up his mind, another man had slid up next to you, a wry smile on his lips and a playful glint in his eye that made Howzer's stomach turn. He watched on as the two of you settled into a conversation, mostly him doing the talking. You gave him the time of day all the same, much to Howzer's chagrin.

“What's your name trooper?”

Howzer couldn't help but jump slightly at the unexpected voice to his left, and he swivelled his head around to the source. The Pantoran woman that you had been chatting to before was stood next to him, a curious expression on her face.

“Howzer, ma'am” he replied firmly.

“Please, drop the formalities�� she waved him off with a smile, and he was reminded of the first time that he talked to you, “I'm Riyo”

The woman stuck out her hand, and Howzer shook it firmly with a small smile of his own.

“Now,” she spoke, something mischievous sliding across her face, “are you going to go and talk to my friend, or are you just going to stare at her all night?”

Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, instantly feeling his face heat up under the scrutiny of the small woman.

“I— uh, Senator, I don't know what you— I wasn't— I wouldn't—” he stumbled through a number of phrases before Riyo cut him off.

“Howzer” she caught his attention, a small smirk on her lips as she noticed his cheeks darkening by the second, “you can drop the act with me. I saw the way you were looking at her, and I know she wants you to go over”

Howzer frowned, “she told you that?”

“No…” she admitted, “but I've also never seen anyone else make her blush”

Howzer felt his heart skip a beat. The idea of him being an exception in being able to break your composure made his blood run hot all of a sudden. He cast his eyes back over to you, locked in conversation with the same man and listening intently as he leant back on the wall, head tilted towards you. When he looked back to Riyo, she gave him a knowing look.

“Just don't wait forever” she instructed with a hand on his shoulder, and Howzer nodded to her before she turned away.

A determination set into him as his eyes found your form again. A somewhat dreamy sigh passed his lips, taking in the way you stood with your weight rested on one leg, your hip jutting out just a little as you brought your glass to your lips. Howzer adjusted his grip on his helmet, watching the way your throat bobbed as you took a sip.

Your eyes momentarily left the man in your company and slid over towards Howzer from behind the rim of the glass, and he had to suppress a smirk when you discreetly rolled your eyes, no doubt in mocking of the man who was still waffling on. It pleased him to know that he could hold your attention from across the room, when the same couldn't be said for someone stood right beside you.

After a few minutes of entertaining the man’s conversation, you interrupted him with a point of your finger, excusing yourself. Howzer’s breath stuttered at the prospect of you making your way over to him, but instead he watched as you walked towards the opposite side of the hall and slipped outside, cracking the door just open enough for your frame to fit through.

Howzer cast a glance around the room to see if anyone was looking his way, then surreptitiously followed in your footsteps around the edge of the large room. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of you leaning your elbows against the stone railing at the edge of the deck, looking out over the expanse of the Senator's gardens. He had to admit that the view was stunning, but the sight of you leant forwards, your dress pooling at your sides and exposing more of your skin to the moonlight, was a far more alluring sight.

Your head turned to the side as you heard the door shut, your lips quirking into a half-smile.

“Captain” you nodded to him in acknowledgement.

“Ma'am” he replied, a small smirk winding its way onto his face.

A breathy laugh left your lips, you head shaking slightly, “I'm not— you shouldn't call me that”

Howzer shrugged, “you look the part”

You chuckled, your expression pleasant as you turned your body to face the other way, resting your back against the cool stone. The headpiece that you wore caught the light of the moon perfectly, contrasting with the warm glow from indoors, and once again Howzer couldn’t help but compare you to the beautiful paintings he had seen. His features were then weighed down by a seriousness, and he spoke more softly, more sincerely.

“You look beautiful”

Your lips lifted a little as an amused hum reverberated in your throat, and you looked to your feet when your cheeks flushed with colour, turning your face from his in an attempt to hide it.

“Thank you” you replied, “as do you”

Howzer's lips lifted into a genuine smile at the unexpected compliment, albeit somewhat of a deflection from his own.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked, moving on quickly.

Your eyes lifted back to his, and you paused for a moment, dropping your head to the side before answering, “not really”

“How come?”

You shrugged one shoulder, your smile rueful, “not my scene”

Howzer nodded, glancing inside at the outlandishly dressed party guests and the splendour that surrounded them, but when his gaze found you again, he could have melted. You positively shone in comparison to all of them, something so authentically positive and genuine surrounding you.

“I was thinking that I might leave, actually”

“Without a dance?” Howzer raised a slightly teasing eyebrow.

You laughed gratuitously at the idea, “I don't want to dance with any of these philistines”

Howzer chuckled, taking a moment to peer inside once more. No one was looking out, no one was paying attention to anyone but themselves, not concerned with things going on outside the walls of the ornate room.

“Would you dance with me?”

You cocked your head a little, a dubiousness written into your furrowed brow, “you know how to dance?”

“More or less” he shrugged, placing his helmet down on the railing, following up by taking off his gloves and tucking them into his belt. He held his hand out with an inviting smile, “can I have this dance, m’lady?”

You chuckled lightly and tentatively took his outstretched hand, letting him pull you towards him, “it's ‘could I have this dance’, for next time”

“Next time?” Howzer asked with a raised eyebrow, his other hand coming to rest at your hip.

You tried to suppress a smirk as the pair of you began dancing to the medium tempo, “in case you find yourself dancing with another member of the Senate, of course”

“Of course” Howzer grinned, “though I can't imagine I will”

He brought your hand up and gently spun you around in time with the music, pulling you back towards him so you were almost chest to chest. Your eyes bore into his as his hand slid to the small of your back, gently brushing your skin. As the dance went on, his hand pressed further against the warmth of your skin, bringing your body closer to his. He wished that he owned any other outfit but his armour, so that he could really feel what it was like to have you pressed up against him, but he'd settle for a gloveless hand against your back for now.

There was something in your gaze, something troubled despite your smile. Howzer didn't know if he was diagnosing the problem correctly, but he spoke up anyway.

“What you did yesterday was really admirable” he mumbled, earning a sigh from you that made your whole body slump towards him, resting your forehead against his chestplate.

“I'm afraid of what's happening to this planet, to the galaxy”

Howzer nodded, his hand sliding up to gently rub what he hoped were comforting circles between your shoulder blades. You continued to let him lead you through the dance, moving your feet in tandem with his despite your collapsed posture.

“I know” he spoke quietly, “but… you can't give up”

Your head lifted from his chest, your eyes slightly wide and startlingly close to his. He felt as if he could see his own soul reflected back at him in that moment, and it startled him a little, as much as it was intoxicating.

“I feel like giving up” you told him, but he just shook his head.

“You can't. You might be the best chance that Ryloth has under the Empire” he replied, his arm wrapping further around you as he slowly let the dance draw you both from the light spilling through the glass door.

“but I can't do anything, as long as the Senator is here” you said desperately, your brows pinched and mouth twisted in a frown.

It was strange to see you so defeated. Howzer had only known you to be quietly confident and seemingly hopeful in a particularly composed way, but now you had been beaten down by the truth of the matter, and for whatever reason you were looking to him for help.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, “will he not go back to Coruscant eventually?”

Your eyes dropped for a moment, then found his again with slightly more conviction, “I suppose so, but—”

“No buts” Howzer interrupted with a growing smile, “just do what you can, right? isn't that what you told me?”

“Yeah” your lips curled up in an appreciative smile, “I can't believe you remember me saying that”

Howzer gave you a small frown, “why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know, I guess I'm used to people just ignoring what I say”

It was a disquieting thing to hear, and Howzer quickly realised it was probably one of the most vulnerable thing you had ever told him.

“Well they're fools” he said assuredly.

You huffed a small laugh as he spun you around once more, “If you say so”

“I mean it” he spoke seriously, pulling you back against him and holding you close by your waist, “I've never— no one ever gave me the time of day to… just talk, before you. No one saw fit to educate me about anything, or talk to me like a human being”

Your brow creased as he spoke, “I'm sorry”

Howzer laughed, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “That was supposed to be a compliment, not me looking for sympathy”

“Oh” you chuckled in a self-deprecating manner, the dance dying down to a light sway, “right, well… you're welcome I suppose. Though I hope you do know that what you just described is the bare minimum”

A scoff left his lips, “so that's the only reason you talk to me? Human decency?”

“Well, no. I—” you stuttered out, diverting your gaze, “like I said before, you're a good man”

Howzer just hummed in response, unable to help the way his smile almost split his face in half. Inside the walls of the mansion, the instrumentalists finished playing their song, a small round of applause following, and you stepped away with a particularly timid expression, as if the intimacy of the moment had finally caught up with you.

“Well, I think I'll be going now” you said softly as the band started up again.

Truthfully, Howzer didn’t want you to leave. Even if it wasn’t in such a troubling way as the previous times, he wasn’t going to watch you walk away from him again.

“Allow me escort you back to your quarters, ma’am” He suggested with a mock sincerity.

You gave him a hesitant and withering look, and his smile grew even more, “you should probably stay here, no?”

Howzer confidently shook his head, “I am tasked with protecting the people in this party. Should one wish to leave, it would only be proper to ensure they get home safely”

He watched the way your bottom lip caught between your teeth to bite back your smirk, your eyes narrowing a little as if to try and read his thoughts. It made his resolve crumble a little, your presence almost deriding him.

“I suppose that makes sense” you mumbled finally, and Howzer smiled in satisfaction.

“Lead the way ma'am” he gestured towards the set of steps that led back towards the front of the estate, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you started walking.

“I thought you agreed not to call me that” you muttered, false annoyance in your tone.

Howzer shrugged a little, “maybe I just want to”

He held out his hand to you once again at the top of the stairs, all four of them, and you scoffed while slipping your hand into his to let him assist in your descent. He knew he was pushing his luck, trying to be so affectionate with you after he had shunned you for doing the exact same thing only a few days prior, but he couldn't help himself.

“Thank you” you said quietly, taking back your hand to clasp both of them behind your back.

The pair of you made your way back up through the large courtyard of the Senator's mansion, stately trees lining your way and casting you into darkness. You settled into a comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the people inside the party dwindle into nothing as you made your way through the city.

The dark engulfed you both, the only light being that of the moon and the stars that were littered through the sky. A gentle breeze sent leaves scattering over the floor, tickling at Howzer’s skin and lightly ruffling his hair. He could smell your perfume as the breeze drifted it his way. It was sweet, understated and gentle but with a noticeable presence. It matched you perfectly in that way. He looked over from his place beside you, and couldn’t help but stare in awe.

In many ways, you were the antithesis to him, a reflection of everything he wished he could be. Much of it was given away in your footfalls; where his were the inelegant scuff of boots against the cold stone of the cobbled street, yours was the tapping of your delicate heels, sounding more akin to a steady drip of water into a lake. Where Howzer was all hard edges and military barbarism, at least in theory, you were made up of soft contours and political courtesy.

He was beneath, you were above. He was the soil, you were the sky. He was inferior, and you were fundamental. All that was true to the places you held in the galaxy, but when he stood next to you, he felt whole, as if your idiosyncrasies fit together to create a one picture, one he didn’t know he recognised until he had laid eyes on you for the first time. Although, as much as you were different, you held a similar space within your own lives, echoing each other’s values. You were both bound by duty, a duty which kept you both from seeking true happiness, and yet, watching you stroll through the moonlight felt like exactly that: happiness.

You halted outside the door to your dwelling, turning back towards him as you opened it up. You observed him for a moment, eyebrows twitching as if thinking something over.

“I'm going put the kettle on” you told him, leaving a lengthy gap to let the words hang in the air for a moment, “would you like to join me for some tea?”

Howzer was agreeing before you had barely got the words out, and you gestured for him to enter with a smirk that you failed to hide. The space was a lot more modest than he was expecting, but he realised then that he probably viewed you as being more important than those who organised your living arrangements. There was a kitchen to one side, a homey looking sofa on the opposite wall, a small dining area between them, and two doors off to the side which he could only presume were the bedroom and refresher. It was humble, especially as compared to the mansion you had just left.

Howzer watched as you pinched the fabric of your scarf between your fingers, pulling it off. The sheer fabric slid over your smooth skin like water over glass, and Howzer was positively mesmerised. It was such a simple action, but he was coming to understand that anything you did was a little more than appealing to him.

“Make yourself at home” you smiled at him as you glided over towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaning on the counter to take off your shoes.

For a moment he just watched you move around, almost desperate to reach out and feel your skin against his once more. He forced himself to look away, to try and do as you said and make himself comfortable in the space. He placed his helmet on the table, and noticed that the flimsibook he so often saw you with was open, your stylus laid in the centre of it.

He didn't mean to look, he knew that he shouldn't, that it was private, but when his eyes skimmed the page and he saw his own name, his heart stopped in his chest. He picked it up, unable to help himself, and ran his fingers across the page as he read from it. It was poetry. All this time, the writing that you had been so intently working on were poems, and it seemed that he was a recurring character.

Howzer was floored. He couldn't believe that such sweet words were written for him, someone made for such violence, and by someone like you no less. He turned page after page, and his name appeared a number of times, but upon reading further, even when he wasn't mentioned by name, it was obvious that it was him you were describing.

Instances from your time together, the day at the lake, descriptions of sitting opposite him under the whiptree, and as far as just passing by him. He noticed that they were dated, and as he flipped backwards through the pages, he found one dated under the day you arrived at the senate bureau.

eyes meet, a flicker of recognition,

birthed from nowhere, you’re unknown.

a quiet understanding, but no words,

a warmth that reaches to me.

It feels like a promise,

a vow to fulfil in time,

to make this notion true, not just a stolen glance from the nameless.

From the very beginning, you had felt exactly the same as him, recognising that pull that he had as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Howzer felt his breath go short, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as his blood ran hot through his veins. He looked over to you, leaned against the kitchen counter and tapping a rhythm against it as you waited for the kettle to boil. He called your name, and you looked over to him inquisitively, but your face instantly dropped as your eyes darted between the book and his face.

“I didn’t know you wrote poetry” he stated, the first think he could think to say.

“You weren’t supposed to” you said quickly, your embarrassment obvious as you strode over to him in a few steps and snatched the book from him, shoving it into a drawer when you made it back to your original position.

Howzer could see the deep blush that set in across your cheeks, and he gave you an apologetic look. He hadn’t meant to embarrass you, he only wanted to convey how much it meant to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, just—” he found himself at a loss for words, “it’s beautiful”

“It’s…” you glanced over to him with hesitation, shame still colouring your cheeks, “it’s private”

For a moment neither one of you moved, watching each other carefully to see if the other would go on. You shortly began to look flustered, your fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress and shifting on the spot.

Letting out a long breath, you hung your head, “I’m so sorry Captain”

Howzer’s eyebrows shot up, taking a step forward on instinct, “you’re sorry?”

“Maker, this is so mortifying” you covered your face with your hands, “I don’t even have the words to explain myself”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that assertion, “I don’t know about that, seems like you might have quite a few”

You groaned in embarrassment as your body curled in on itself more, drawing another small laugh from Howzer as he made his way over to you.

He tentatively wrapped his hands around you wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. You looked up at him with a bashful expression, struggling to maintain eye contact as he slipped your hands into his.

“I—” he began, not entirely sure of the direction he was going, “I wish I had any of the sort of talent with words that you have, so that I might be able to express my feelings more clearly, but..” he paused, seeing the timidity begin to recede in your eyes, “perhaps I could show you instead?”

His eyes remained trained on yours as he awaited your answer, one hand skimming over your waist and running the silky fabric of your dress through his fingers, the other ghosting over your arm as it made its way up to hold your jaw.

You stared back at him with wide eyes, “I thought— you said it— that we shouldn't”

Howzer had never known you to trip over your words in such a way, and a smirk wormed its way onto his face as he shrugged a little, “I changed my mind”

He could feel some of the tension drain from your body, your shoulders relaxing, and you stepped into his space so you were chest to chest, your nose almost touching his. Your eyes dropped to his lips, tilting your head upwards so they were only a hairbreadth from his own. He could feel your breath warm on his lips, and he had to fight to keep from shivering at the sensation. Eyes finding his again, he could see more confidence in your gaze, and it sent a certain thrill through him that was hard to ignore.

“Then prove it” you whispered, lips almost brushing his.

Howzer closed the space between you, lips meeting with ardency as his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close to him. He moved his lips against yours with intention, taking his time in the hopes that it would convey every unsaid notion of admiration. Your hands curled around the top of his chestplate, pulling him flush against you, and he gripped you tighter, the fabric of your dress bunching up at his touch.

“You look so good in my colour” he mumbled against your lips, sounding as drunk as he felt at the intoxicating taste of your lips.

“I hope so” you returned, “I wore it for you”

Howzer groaned as he instantly deepened the kiss, pressing you back into the kitchen counter, and he felt you smirk against him. His hands explored your body, finally allowing himself the pleasure of indulging in the feel of your skin.

He suddenly became overwhelmed by desire, desperate to be as close as possible after your admission. You had worn this excruciatingly tantalising dress just for him, and he wanted to be the one to take it off of you. One hand cupped the back of your head as his mouth devoured yours, exploring every inch of you he could reach, and the other trailed down your body to grip at your hip. You raised to your toes to push back against him, matching his fervour, your arms snaking around his neck to bring him closer.

In a swift motion, Howzer hooked his hands under your thighs, placing you on top of the counter behind you and standing between your thighs. You threaded your legs around his waist, pulling yourself into him and earning a breathy groan at the feel of you pressing into his now uncomfortably tight codpiece.

Howzer had never felt a desire as pure as this one. He'd had encounters of a similar nature with other people, of course, but never had he felt this aching within his chest, the need to be close, not only physically, but to be tethered together by your very souls.

Becoming impatient and overwhelmed by his own state of mind, Howzer’s hand ran down your leg and found the hem of your dress, which had ridden up a little by that point, and lifted it so he could slip beneath. His fingers danced along your skin, skimming your inner thigh as he made his way towards the apex in a swift motion.

A shaky breath passed your lips and fanned over his as his knuckles came into contact with your clothed sex. He teased you for a moment, ghosting over the fabric with featherlight touches, but a heavy sigh gave an indication that you were just as impatient as he was.

“No need to be so gentle, Captain. I told you, I'm not made of glass” your voice was thick with desire, breathy but confident.

“I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore” he pressed his forehead into yours to peer into your eyes as his first finger hooked into your underwear slowly.

“Maybe I want to” you whispered, and though initially a little stunned, his lips formed a particularly rakish grin at the implication. He took what you had said at face value and sped along the process by pushing your underwear to the side, his fingers sliding between your folds.

“Fuck” he breathed out slowly, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, “how are you so wet already?”

His voice was hoarse, genuine perplexity and pleasant surprise colouring his tone.

“Didn't you read my poetry?” you asked, a contented sigh passing your lips, “you look very good in this armour, Captain”

Howzer chuckled, and he heard your breath hitch as his fingers grazed your clit.

“So good you had to match, apparently” he breathed out, his lips against your ear and drawing a shudder from you.

He continued his teasing, every motion in response to the way you reacted to his touch. Dragging his teeth along your earlobe, he heard a whimper sound in your throat, and as you were about to reply to his previous comment, he sunk two of his fingers inside of you. Howzer could feel his knees almost give out at how easy it was to slip his fingers past your entrance, and your breath escaped you in a sharp and unsteady exhale.

“Fuck, so… good” you finally replied, struggling to get your words out as his fingers set a steady pace within you, watching every twitch that played on your features as you responded to his efforts.

Your face was twisted in pleasure, brows pinched and teeth digging into your bottom lip. It was as if you were an instrument, him the air, or the strings, that allowed you to sing. Your soft moans were the melody, the most beautiful one he had heard, and the fact that it was him pulling it from you only made it sound sweeter.

“You're right, mesh'la” he spoke against your lips, detaching the meaning you had intended from your previous words, “you're so good, taking my fingers so well”

A small whine left you, and Howzer attached his lips back to yours, swallowing the sound. His thumb brushed over your clit as he wound you up, and you let out a delighted moan into his mouth.

“Tell me how it feels, baby, tell me how good I make you feel” he rasped, the fingers of his free hand digging into the flesh of your thigh.

“It— fuck” you were interrupted as Howzer's fingers found a particularly deep spot within you, curling and hitting a place that made you unable to speak, “it feels so good, Captain”

“Yeah?” he asked, adding pressure to your clit so you could only nod in reply, “you like calling me that, huh?”

A small ‘yes’ slipped from your lips in a whisper, looking up into his eyes, and Howzer could see something shy swirling within them. He wasn't going to have that.

“Yes, what?” he challenged, and watched with pride as the timidity receded and a flicker of desire took its place.

“Yes, Captain”

Howzer smirked broadly, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he looked down at the positive alluring sight of you at his mercy.

“Good girl” he praised, and felt the way you clenched around him in response. He was quickly coming to understand exactly what it was your body wanted from him.

He felt you getting close to finishing, your chest heaving and breath short and uneven as your walls tightened around his pumping fingers, but before you could reach your peak, he pulled his fingers from you completely. A sharp whine slipped from your lips at the loss, but Howzer just gave you a teasing simper.

“Not yet, mesh'la. I'll let you know when you can come” he spoke lowly, nothing but pure lust dripping from his tongue.

He could tell his words were having an effect on you. You were breathless, looking up at him through your eyelashes, and the sight alone was enough to set his skin alight in an entirely new way, his cock throbbing beneath his armour. A hand found its place on your cheek, needing an affirmative before continuing.

“How's that sound? You think you can follow my orders?” he asked, his tone reverent despite the meaning behind the words.

“Yes sir” you breathed out, and Howzer couldn't deny the way the sentiment set his insides alive.

He kissed you deeply, taking a moment in the flurry of desire to see to the fact that he cared for you deeply, and he wanted you to know that. His fingers traced your jaw, winding their way behind you head in a soft brush of skin against skin. He kept his touch light as he drew a path up to one of your lekku, and gently brushed his knuckles over the sensitive area.

He felt a shiver ripple through you, and you drew away from him with a shaky breath. Your eyes were a little wide, and he worried that he'd pushed your boundaries, but then your fingers hooked into his belt and you yanked him towards you.

“How do I take this off?” you asked, fumbling with the clasp.

Howzer laughed, your actions so sudden that he couldn't help himself, “here, let me do it”

He shooed your hands away, unclipping his belt and then going about removing the rest of his armour as quickly as possible. You just sat atop the counter, one leg crossed over the other and watching him with a fascination. He caught your eyes, and a smirk broke out over his face.

There was an understanding between you, a sense of affinity and trust that had been there since the beginning. Howzer didn't believe in fate — his time in the war had only taught him the certainty of everything being up to chance and luck — but something about the way you looked at him, the way his eyes found yours and things made sense, it felt that it had been brewing for a long time, since before you had met.

Once Howzer was just down to his blacks, his armour scattered about the floor that surrounded him, he pulled the top from his body, and your hands were on him before he could continue. You pulled him towards you, tasting his lips again, and he melted into you, his hands running up your thighs.

Your hands travelled over his chest and took a path downwards, your fingers brushing against his muscle and the hair that peeked above his blacks before they wrapped around his hardened length. An unbidden groan left his lips at the action, grinding himself into your hold and gripping the flesh of your thighs as you palmed him through the material. He could feel himself crumbling under your attention already, and he couldn't wait a second longer. He needed to feel you around him.

His thumbs hooked into the waistband of his blacks and tugged them down with his underwear, stepping out and catching the way you bit your lip at the sight of his cock springing free. He bunched your dress up around your hips and slid your underwear from your body with an urgency, placing himself between your legs once more and resting the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. Your breath stuttered at the sensation, and he looked up to meet your eyes once more.

You were so beautiful. He'd always known it, but a newfound appreciation of your beauty now washed over him like an icy tidal wave, waking him up and making him feel entirely more present and aware of what was happening. One of his hands lifted to caress your face, looking deeply into your eyes and feeling that connection, the tethering of souls that he desired.

“You're incredible” he breathed out, and your lips curled up into a genuine smile.

“I think you're pretty incredible too, since were being honest”

Howzer wasn't entirely sure how to respond to the compliment, but shortly a smug expression took over his face, “oh I know, you wouldn't write words like that otherwise”

You rolled your eyes, a huff leaving your lips, “cocky”

He dragged his tongue along his lips with a devilish grin, “you have no idea”

He sheathed into you, and heard a gasp get caught in your throat as he slowly filled you out. Your fingers gripped onto his shoulders as he bottomed out, and Howzer couldn't find it within himself to move. He pulled you close, your foreheads together and eyes closed as your bodies were flush with one another, his cock buried deep within you, basking in your warmth. He pulled out slowly, a careful procedure, and then sank back into you with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck” he choked out, running a soothing hand up your side, “you feel so good baby”

Howzer set a steady pace at first, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but soon found himself speeding up, the sensation too intoxicating and your nails biting into his shoulder making his vision hazy even as he opened his eyes. The melody of your moans was more colourful, inflections and articulations that he hadn't heard before, and the sounds alone were driving him closer to the edge by the second.

His speed was punishing, driving into you and hitting deep inside with each thrust. His hands gripped your thighs to ground him, feeling almost drunk on the feel of you. He was mumbling acclamatory words against your lips, unable to concentrate enough to speak properly, and especially when your lips were on his neck. It made his head spin, more arousing than he realised, and he felt positively high. You were invading his senses like a drug, and he was so lost in the moment that he was only brought back by the feel of your walls clenching around him. Despite his body's wishes, he pulled out of you completely. You let out a whine in protest, and he ran a finger over your pouting bottom lip with a chuckle.

“Not yet, pretty girl”

He brought his fingers to your core again, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge. He watched you squirm, both satisfaction and frustration written into your expression, and your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and slid up, tangling in his hair as you guided his lips back to yours. You pulled gently, earning a groan from his throat that echoed in the space around you. Howzer returned the action, running his palm over the base of your lekku.

You whimpered against him, and pulled back fractionally to speak a desperate plea to let you finish. Instead of heeding your wishes, he took his fingers away from you, and a breath escaped you as your forehead came to rest on his chest. Your legs wrapped around his waist again, drawing him closer so his cock came into contact with your dripping core. He groaned deeply, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in you again.

“Where's your bedroom?” he mumbled out, and your head raised to look at him.

“Door on the right” you answered in a quick breath.

Howzer hooked his hands under your thighs and wasted no time in heading over towards the room. He smashed his hand into the door panel with an urgency, making you chuckle against his skin as you littered kisses up his neck and along his jaw. When he found the bed in the darkened room, he placed you down gently, laying you down beneath him. He took the opportunity to explore your body with his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses where your dress would allow, and nudging it aside when he wasn't satisfied with how little skin he could reach.

He then pulled back and tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you, “don't you think you’re a little overdressed?”

Your lips lifted into their own smirk, “you think so?”

Howzer chucked darkly, his lips meeting the skin of your neck as he drew a path of kisses along the underside of your jaw. He paused for a moment, feeling you shudder at the feel of his hot breath against your ear.

“Be a good girl and take this off for me” he spoke lowly.

You pushed him away with a trembling breath, and he rolled off of you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as you stood. You slipped the straps of your dress from your shoulders, and the silky material of the dress folded easily, sliding from your body and pooling at your feet in one graceful motion. Howzer’s mouth dropped open, his hand reaching for you and tracing his thumb along your hip bone as he took in the sight of you in a state of undress.

“Kriff cyare, look at you” his tone was nothing short of worshipping, adoration and infatuation laced into his tone.

One side of your lips quirked up at the compliment, and however much he hadn't really spoke his mind, he knew you understood. He gripped your waist and pulled you back towards him, tugging you down and placing his body back on top of yours, caging your head between his splayed palms. He shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the sight of you beneath him and taking your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his and pressing it into the bed.

“You ready pretty girl?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw.

You nodded, your breath leaving you as he positioned himself at your entrance once more.

“Hm, doesn't seem like you really want it” He spoke coyly, slipping his length through your slick folds as he dragged his teeth along your collarbone.

You were whimpering, squirming beneath him, and he knew he had you absolutely wrapped around his finger in that moment. It was exhilarating, the idea that ordinarily you were a quiet and poised government official, strong in your resolve and far above him in station, but now you were beneath him, begging for more, hanging on his every word and under his command.

“Please, Captain” you breathed out, your tone so lustful that Howzer could have crumbled.

“Please what? You have to tell me what you need mesh'la” he rumbled against your skin, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Please, I— I need you to fuck me Captain”

You sounded desperate, and it drew a low groan from Howzer's throat, “that's more like it”

His forehead met yours as he slid inside of you again, filling you completely in one thrust, the dulcet sound of your moans mixing filling the dark room. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hand gripping his tighter as he pounded into you. He wasn’t entirely sure that he was actually going to last much longer with the feel of your walls clenching around him, but he was determined to have you hanging on until the very last second.

The feeling that it gave him, the intimacy of it more than anything, was euphoric. He had never felt so close to another person, so understood and frankly loved, whether or not it was the case. The two of you were connected in a way that he couldn't comprehend, but could only feel, an energy that bound you together and created a space where only the two of you existed.

He felt your walls tightening around him once more, and kept his pace up as he spoke, “ah, ah. You don't come until I tell you to, remember?”

“Yes, Captain” you whimpered, your eyes screwing shut.

“Hey” he said more gently, slowing down as his hand caressed your face, “look at me.” Your eyes opened once more, and a smile broke out on his face naturally, “there you are pretty girl”

He bumped his forehead with yours as he resumed his punishing pace, his eyes burning into yours and yours burning in kind. He could tell you were only just hanging on, doing everything in your willpower to not come undone until he let you, and he just felt grateful for the trust you had in him to allow him to have such a power over you.

“You take me so well baby” he whispered, his voice reverent and gentle as he buried his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, “made for this cock”

His breath stuttered as he felt himself getting close, not able to hold on for much longer, and your whispered pleas told him that you were right there with him.

“where do you want me?” he asked, his voice strained.

You were breathless as you replied, almost relieved, “inside”

Howzer groaned deeply, stilling inside you and trying to control his body desperately, “I'm serious cyar'ika”

“I'm protected” you assured him, “please Captain, I want to feel you”

That was all Howzer needed to resume his shattering pace, his hands holding your hips firmly in place as he pounded into you and finally spoke the words, “come for me, baby”

You were easily pushed over the edge, and Howzer rode you through your high until he came undone with a harsh grunt, spilling his seed deep within you. It took more than a moment to come down from the pure bliss of fulfilment, and when he did, his eyes opened to look down at you, still panting, and you were doing the same. He let out a breathy laugh, grinning at your spent expression.

He slipped out of you, sitting back on his heels to catch his breath, and watched the way his seed spilled out of you, making his teeth sink into his lip. His eyes found yours once more as his hand gently kneaded your thigh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What?” you asked, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

“You're just—” he breathed out deeply, “you're so beautiful”

You grinned at him, sitting up on your elbows, “thank you”

You looked confident in saying it, and his heart sang with affection. He pressed a kiss to your knee and stood from the bed, “don't move, I'll be right back”

He left the room and entered what he rightly assumed was the refresher, and returned with tissue in hand. He helped you clean up before crawling over you again, cupping your face and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

You hummed contentedly, your own hand caressing his face, outlining the scar on his cheek, “will you stay the night?”

You looked so hopeful in asking, but Howzer sighed, “I can't be caught leaving here tomorrow”

You chewed on your cheek, looking away for a moment, “just for a little while then?”

He smiled, “alright, a little while”

He settled beside you and pulled your body flush against his, placing a kiss to your forehead as he held you close. Your face was buried in his chest, breath tickling his skin, and he couldn't think of a time when he had ever felt as contented as this.

“Howzer?” you called softly.

“Hm?” he rumbled, his arms tightening around you.

“What— um…” you stammered, and he pulled back to look at you.

“What's up?”

You didn't look nervous perse, he didn't think you capable of it, but you looked a little apprehensive to say whatever it is that was hanging onto your tongue.

“What does this mean?” you asked quietly.

Howzer smiled, his fingers brushing against your cheekbone as he looked down at you adoringly, “it means whatever you want it to”

You tilted your head at him a little, “well what do you want?”

“I only want whatever you'll give me, however much that is”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you lifted your head to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, “I just want you… in every way I can”

“Then I'm yours” he smiled in return, “in every way”

It was first light when Howzer awoke the next day, the sun only just breaching the horizon and casting a blue glow through the curtains of your bedroom. He was pressed up against your body, curled around you and keeping you sealed in a warm embrace with his arms.

He wished that you could stay like this forever, the both of you comfortable and locked together, hidden from the unblinking eye of the outside world and the realities that weighed on your minds at any other moment. Here, there was no Empire, no politics, no power — just peace.

Howzer nuzzled into your neck for just a second, pressing a lingering kiss to your throat, before he pulled away from you completely, leaving the room to get dressed into his previously discarded armour. If he had taken another moment he was sure he'd never leave.

He dressed quickly, slipping his blacks on and putting his armour back in it's place. As he adjusted his pauldron, he looked back towards your bedroom door. He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but he also didn't want to wake you. You would be getting up soon enough, but he wouldn't deny you even a few minutes of rest with the state of things in the senate bureau, so instead he opted to write a note.

He found your flimsibook and a stylus in the drawer where you had stuffed them the night before and opened to the next blank page, next to the end of a very long poem that was seemingly about justice, based on the heavy use of the word. He wasn't going to pry by reading it once more, so he just wrote a quick note down, to let you know that he'd make some caf for you. His language wasn't as flowery as yours, and he almost felt embarrassed for it, but he wasn't exactly trying to be very poetic. He set a batch of caf on to brew, then slipped out the front door as quietly as possible.

The air outside was fresh, the scent of morning dew and the ever-present lavender invading his senses, though the distinct lack of people around was strange. Howzer was never usually out of the barracks this early so it was unusual to be able to hear the birdsong, which was usually covered by the sound of people talking, milling about, on their way to work. It was nice, perhaps he'd make an effort to get up earlier in the future.

As he made his way towards the square, he was ambushed by a pair of troopers, exactly the people he was trying to avoid in not going back to the barracks.

“Where have you been?” Teddy asked him with a taunting edge, knocking his elbow as the two of them walked either side of him.

“Yeah, you weren't in your bed last night” Oscar smirked, “which begs the question: whose bed were you in?”

Howzer rolled his eyes, playing off their questions, “I was stationed at the Senator's estate last night”

Oscar let out a loud laugh, “as if you slept in the Senator's mansion”

“We're not that stupid, sir” Teddy gave him a knowing look, “well, maybe Oscar is, but come on, wh—”

“Hey!” Oscar reached around his Captain to push Teddy away.

“You two are such children” Howzer shook his head disapprovingly, though a small smile still managed to worm its way onto his face.

“He started it” Oscar grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Did not” Teddy grinned, rubbing his arm.

“Anyway” Oscar said pointedly, “you didn't answer the question. who'd you go home with, Captain?”

Howzer scoffed, “I’m not discussing this with you loudmouths”

“Don't worry sir, I'll cover his ears while you tell me” Teddy suggested, causing Howzer to chuckle.

“Don't you two have somewhere to be?” He asked as they came to a stop in the town square, an eyebrow raised and looking between them.

“Ugh” Oscar huffed, rolling his eyes, “I suppose”

“Best be off then” Howzer nudged him forwards.

Oscar was mumbling under his breath as he walked away, and Teddy leaned toward Howzer fractionally, his tone amused, “Don't worry sir, I'll keep him in line”

“I know you will, Teddy” Howzer chuckled fondly as he stepped away, “I'll see you later”

Teddy gave his Captain a quick salute and ran after his brother, throwing an arm around his shoulders on approach. Howzer turned away with an affectionate smile and the threat of a scoff leaving his mouth at their antics.

Howzer had barely been keeping it together all morning, and he had no idea how you could act so nonchalantly, as if nothing had transpired between the two of you. It wasn't discussed that your escapades from the previous night would be kept a secret, but it was assumed. That didn't stop the way the edges of Howzer's lips curled into a smirk upon seeing you enter the room.

Today you were dressed in a corseted robe, paisley designs adorning the silky sleeves and collar, and it was noticeably a light blue-green colour; teal. Howzer shook his head at you and had to bite back a smirk, he could tell you knew what you were doing. You had greeted him with a simple ‘Good morning, Captain’ but it had made his blood run hot with memories of the previous night filling his vision. He had never been so thankful for his codpiece.

He watched as you and Cham discussed something in his office, your voices too far away to hear what. He caught little words here and there, but nothing that really indicated the subject matter. It made him laugh, really. You would both probably discuss it with him later, so there was no need for the hushed tone you employed, but neither of you knew that. Perhaps you did, but your sabacc face was too good that he couldn't tell.

The arrival of a new Imperial officer, a vice admiral, had been the talk of the day. The man was so self-important and petulant that Howzer was sure he was making up for something, though in truth, he hadn't been paying all that much attention to him. He hadn't been paying attention to anyone but you.

You had met his gaze only once since first saying good morning, and it was driving him crazy, particularly as the one time he did catch your eyes, you had sent him a maddeningly sultry smirk. Howzer felt like all the self control he had left within him was hanging by a thread, ready to snap.

When the time was right, he pulled the thread, and let it break, finally getting you alone and dragging you behind a non-descript door that ended up being some kind of supply closet. He instantly pushed you up against the wall, attaching his lips to yours with a desperation that made you smirk against his mouth.

“Someone's eager” you chuckled as his lips left yours for a moment.

“Shut up” he mumbled, kissing you deeply in between his words, “what do you expect when you walk in wearing this?”

You smirked broadly, “I thought you'd like it”

He suppressed a groan as your teeth dragged along his lip, “you're trouble”

Howzer's hands roved over your body, mapping the shape of it and burning it into his brain. He ran his tongue over the seem of your lips, begging for entrance that you allowed in an instant, and the soft sigh that left you made his knees weak.

A shuffling of feet outside the door made the both of you freeze, eyes opening and locking as you listened intently. It sounded as if there was a group of people passing by, their discussion so benign it could be about anything.

You smiled up at Howzer as their voices receded, and he returned the gesture, his arms snaking around your waist and holding you tightly.

“Thank you for the caf” you whispered.

“It was no problem” he whispered back, a hand cupping your cheek.

“But next time, wake me up” you said, somehow ever quieter.

The promise of a next time made his smile widen, and he knew now that he wouldn't deny you anything you asked for. He bit his lip as you looked up at him through your lashes, your gentle expression making his chest feel tight with admiration.

“Alright” he murmured.

He dipped his head and nudged your chin up with his nose to latch his lips onto your neck, and that wonderful sighing noise left your parted lips once more.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here” you insisted, your voice breathy and full of a certain neediness despite your words.

“Tell me to stop” Howzer spoke, his warm breath over your collarbone, and you moaned softly, prompting him to repeat himself, “go on, tell me to stop”

Your breath was short, but you found your voice enough to speak, “no sir”

“That's what I thought”

Howzer placed an armoured leg between your thighs to pin you to the wall, and a less gentle moan slipped from your lips.

“Shhh” he cooed, shifting his leg further up just to tease you, and you struggled to suppress another noise, “do you think you can stay quiet for me, baby?”

You stifled a noise as he bit into your neck, giving him his answer.

“Good girl”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565 @heidnspeak @mae-lou-ron @burningnerdchild @orangez3st

[jinkoh]

now playing: the boyz - christmassy

sunwoo x gn!reader

11th fic for my anniversary event | requested by anon

wc: 1.1k, fluff, established relationship, proposal, this whole fic is just sunwoo being a sap honestly

a/n: i assume most of y'all will celebrate on the 25th, but to those who--like me--celebrate on the 24th and to those in time zones were midnight has already passed: merry christmas~

event masterlist | tbz masterlist

December is a time that always feels special to Sunwoo. Of course, it’s a time of the year that feels special to a lot of people, but Sunwoo likes to believe it’s extra special to him. Because in December, right about this time three years ago, Sunwoo met you for the first time.

It was freezing and he was in a rush to get to class, the Christmas spirit not having reached him quite yet. But then he stumbled into you, with your cheeks and nose red from the cold and your eyes glowing with a sense of wonder he couldn’t really relate to at the time. That was about to change though, because you enchanted him from that moment on. He remembers how fast his heart was racing when you spoke to him and he remembers how much his fingers trembled when he typed his number into your phone. He can also still recall all the lectures spent zoning out, scribbling silly things about you into his notepad instead of paying attention. There was just something magical about meeting you, and even now the magic hasn’t faded. In fact, with every day that passes, he finds himself more smitten with you. Because ever since he met you, every day has been feeling like Christmas on and on. Even without carols and Christmas lights just being together makes life feel christmassy. It’s embarrassing to voice any of those sappy thoughts—Sunwoo likes to think of himself as a bit more cool and collected than that—but then again, he is also a romantic at heart. 

And because he is such a romantic, he is now trudging through the snowy streets, bustling with people hunting down their last christmas gifts, to meet you at the corner he first ran into you three years ago. He has his old notepad clutched to his chest and he still isn’t sure if he should really show it to you, worried about looking uncool in front of you, worried that it isn’t good enough, that it isn’t the gesture you’d want. But he decides to trust that you will understand the sincerity in all of this and he knows you don’t care that much for pricey gifts or putting on a big show.

When he spots you at the end of the street, fewer people around this part of town, he halts for a moment. You’re wearing the same scarf as that time, and your cheeks are just as red again, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. He takes a deep breath and then he approaches you, your eyes lighting up the second they fall on him.

“Sunwoo,” you wave with your cute, warm mittens and it makes him smile. “Happy anniversary.”

“It’s not our anniversary,” he says, but you roll his eyes at him.

“Yes, it is,” you pull  him close by the collar of his thick coat to leave a peck on his lips, “it’s the anniversary of our first meeting.”

Sunwoo kisses you back, his body feeling warm and fuzzy at the knowledge you remembered it too. “Yeah,” he says, “You’re right.”

A satisfied smile spreads on your lips before your gaze wanders to the notepad in his arms. “What’s that?”

“Notes I took back in college.”

You raise an eyebrow, “In college? Why would you need them now?”

“I wanted to give them to you.”

“To me?” You let out a confused laugh, “Why?”

“Go and find out,” he says as he hands it over and then he adds, “Happy anniversary, y/n.”

Your expression turns a bit more serious, unsure what to expect as you open the pages. At first, it’s actual stuff from classes and maybe the one or the other doodle created to overcome boredom. But then, as you reach this very day three years ago, you find your name scribbled on the edge of the page. Then there is your name next to his, a messy heart drawn around both of them. I really like you, it says a few days later. With every page you turn, you grow more flustered. “Sunwoo, what is this?”

“I told you, notes from college.”

“Yeah, but—why is it—are they about me?”

“It was kinda hard to get you out of my head at the time,” he says with a shrug that’s supposed to look nonchalant, even when nerves are getting the best of him right now. “Actually it still is.”

“Are they all from back then?”

“Yeah,” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat, feeling the small velvet box in his right palm. “Well, almost all of them. There is also one from today.”

You almost seem in a hurry to read through the pages now, unable to hide your impatience to get to today’s note. Sunwoo doesn’t mind though. If you ever want to look more closely, the notepad will still be around later. And if he’s being honest he is just as impatient for you to get to the important part as you are. When you’re finally turning the last page he takes a deep breath and then pulls out the little box from his pocket, waiting for you to read the words before he gets down on one knee.

“Sunwoo—what—,” you stutter, clearly flustered and your eyes shimmering with tears as you look up from the page, only to find him kneeling before you, snow seeping into the fabric of his pants but he doesn’t mind.

“I know this isn’t a big movie-worthy gesture—but it’s always during this season that I start to wonder how many times we’ll spend it together—and it’s always during this season that I come to think that it feels endless—that I’d like it to be endless. Does that—all of this sounded better in my head—but even now when I look at you it feels like Christmas on and on. I’d like it to always feel this way, I’d like there to always be days like this, days with you. So, y/n l/n,” he takes another deep breath before he repeats the words that are written on the last page, “will you marry me?”

You nod almost violently, not even waiting for him to put the ring on your finger before you fling your arms around his neck, getting your knees wet in the snow as much as he has. “Yes,” you agree as you bury yourself in his embrace, “Yes, yes, yes!”

All the tension is slipping out of him as he hugs you close, deciding the ring can wait another ten minutes because holding you is that much more important. He is full of warmth and happiness and wonder, and he can’t help thinking that it really does feel like Christmas on and on.

event masterlist | tbz masterlist

[ddagent]

uhh new prompt.. (feel completely free to ignore me just screaming “more!!” for each ficlet ;D) KGB-handler!Sergei verse: Margo is sick and he really doesn’t want to leave her alone.

Thank you for the nudge on this one! Despite me initially disliking S4 during my first watch, I have become rather obsessed with this era of Margo/Sergei. [You can find the first part here.]

Outside of Margo Madison's apartment, Sergei Nikulov waited. Every day for eight years he had sat in this car and waited for her to emerge. He would then follow, ensure she was taken care of, that her cover remained intact. Officially, it was meant to be Stepan who watched, Stepan who followed. Sergei, as her handler, was meant to check in weekly ahead of Margo's monthly check-in with Roscosmos. But ever since she had arrived in Moscow, bitter and bleeding from being caught in the explosion at JSC, he had felt himself drawn to her.

She had been a broken bird, locked in a cage. He knew what it was like to be broken, too.

So, he waited, as he did every day. Margo would go to the bakery, then the newspaper stand. She would go the library in the afternoon and find new books to read, engage with recent scientific journals and make pencil notes in the margins that she would have to hastily erase. Occasionally, she would go out for dinner and Sergei would take a seat close – but not too close. But today, Margo did not emerge. The minutes ticked on; the dial in his decrepit car moved forward. Minutes turned to hours and she did not emerge.

Something was wrong.

Locking the car behind him, Sergei slipped into Margo's apartment building. He had a key, as her handler, though his mentor had taught him to pick locks early in his career. Opening the door to her apartment, Sergei sought out signs of trouble: broken glass, upturned furniture, dark stains on the carpet. Nothing. Just a continual sniff, sniff coming from the bedroom. He approached cautiously, a floor board creaking underneath his feet.

"Didn't they teach you how to knock with the KGB?" came a nasally voice from the bedroom.

Sergei opened the door. Margo Madison was still in bed, with a red nose, damp eyes, and a defeated expression. "I did knock. No one answered."

"Liar." Margo sneezed into a tissue. She glared at it as if it had personally offended her. "Make yourself useful; get me a cup of coffee."

"Of course."

Sergei was always one to follow orders. He found the pot of coffee in one of the cupboards, set the kettle on the stove to boil. He removed his coat, scarf, and hung it on the rack near the door. Then he headed back into the bedroom for the water bottle he knew Margo slept with to keep warm. She gave it to him without question. When the coffee was ready, he poured two mugs and brought them both out to her. He sat on a chair he pulled in from the living room and nursed his own mug.

She did not look well. He resisted the urge to feel her forehead, no doubt clammy with sweat. "I should call a physician."

Margo shook her head. "Nyet. It's a cold, Sergei. I get them every year." She sneezed again and lay back, frustrated, against the pillows. "Thank you for the coffee. But as you can see, my cover is intact, I haven't defected back to the United States. You can go now."

Sergei should leave. There was no reason for him to stay; he had satisfied his requirements as her handler - Margo was alive, if not well. He should return to the car outside and observe. But what was the point of observing through brick and concrete, when he could watch over her just as easily here? Not just watch over her, but take care of her. In the handful of discussions they'd had over the years – growing in number as they'd grown in age – Sergei had quickly determined that no one had ever really taken care of Margo Madison.

He wanted to be that someone.

"If this is more than a cold, a physician will need to be called." He tugged off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves. "You will not do this. So, it is necessary for me to stay." Sergei paused. In the bed, swaddled in sheets and blankets, he caught a slight smile pick up at the corners of Margo's mouth. "What do you need?"

She wet her dry lips. "Can I have some toast?"

He smiled. "Of course. Then I will bring your book in from the sitting room, if your head is fine for reading."

Margo gently shook her head. "It hurts too much. You could play something, though. Or we could–we could talk?"

Sergei swallowed at the prospect. He then shrugged, as if it was just another task required of him by the Soviet Union. "Whatever is needed."

Sergei had intended to busy himself in the kitchen while Margo read, preparing soup for her to eat to soothe her throat and regain her strength. But her desire for conversation was one he was eager to satisfy. So, Sergei prepared her water bottle, buttered some toast, and left briefly to call his youngest sister from the payphone down the street. He begged her for the soup their mother kept in the freezer for emergencies. Firm instructions were given; it would be a risk for his sister to even come within a block of Margo's apartment. But Margo needed sustenance and there was nothing better than his mother's soup.

Later, as they ate together, Margo complementing his mother's cooking (as always), Sergei realised if such a day occupied the rest of his days, he would be a very happy man. It was much later, as he tucked Margo in to sleep off her cold, that he realised how far he had fallen for the former NASA engineer.

But there was no going back. Just forward. Just out.

[clovermarigold]

Mk Oneshots: Raiden x waitress Fem. reader

Note: I am SO sorry for this image

You had been working at the tea house for a few months now, after your father insisted you find new work outside of the family business. You honestly should have seen it coming. It was well known in the village of Fenjian that you were the unluckiest person to walk the face of the earth. 

You had nearly driven your family’s rice farm into bankruptcy after accidentally tipping off a cart down a hill that crashed into your season's silo and allowed the entire harvest to be eaten by mold. To make things worse it was anything but your first offense. You had worn a new scarf your mother had made for the new year. Unfortunately, this scarf was very long, and very flammable. The fire nearly destroyed three people’s houses that year. The final straw for your father had been when you had gone into town with your sister to chaperone her and her betrothed. Well… previously betrothed.

The two had insisted on walking one of Fengjian's few gardens privately without you present for a few minutes. You had insisted that your father would not want the two to be together unsupervised but promised to give them some time alone and watch them from afar. However, upon entering the garden and leaving to watch them from atop a hill. You attempted to pick a plum from one of the trees. This backfired when the tree turned out to be half rotted, and upon jumping and pulling. The tree knocked down and rolled down the hill, hitting your sisters engaged. His family was outraged, he was hospitalized for months, and they called off the engagement. 

This string of bad luck has earned you a less than favorable reputation in Fengjian. Madam Bo had been the only one in the village who was willing to take you in. Claiming that, “wild women are often too much for small minded people”. While you don’t think she would lie, you don’t doubt that the fact she could have you work without pay played a role. Though she likely regretted her decision when she had to pay for all the plates you broke.

Kung Lao sighed at his friend, this had been the fourth night in a row they had gone to Madam Bo’s for dinner. Usually, they preferred to go once a month, due to her high prices. But lately Raiden had been dragging him out. On one hand, he shouldn’t be so upset about it, after all, Raiden was the one paying. But on the other hand, it was painful to watch his friend swoon at one of the waitresses, never actually doing anything to woo her. 

“Again? Is your wallet ok?” Raiden only smiled as they entered the tea house, “If my wallet is feeling any discomfort, it’s only because you insist on eating the entire menu every time we come”. “Ah, Raiden, Kung Lao, welcome back” you said, almost stumbling over, hair a mess and visibly ruffled. 

Kung Lao groaned at the sickening sweetness of Raiden, “Thank you, we are gratuitous for your hospitality”. Sitting in their usual spots, it was obvious Raiden was distracted. “I’ll make you some tea," Raiden watched as you walked away, never once looking away, until Kung Lao caught his attention “Well, that was embarrassing”.

“What?” Raiden asked obliviously. “This” he gestured to him, “You. For the last four nights we’ve been coming here. And for the last four nights, you’ve done nothing”. “I hardly consider–” a loud crash sounded as the teahouse’s attention was drawn to you on the ground clutching your hand. Raiden was quick to run over, “Are you alright?”. “Ah, no. I spilled some of the hot water and dropped the pot. Madam Bo is going to kill me” you said as he helped you to your feet. “I’ll handle Madam Bo. Let’s get you some ice for that burn”.

“Really Raiden, it is unnecessary,” you insist as he pulls you to the counter making you sit down, “Your health comes first, and Madam Bo would agree with me”. “Agree with what?” as if her name was spoken thrice, she appeared from the back room, the faint smell of nicotine telling you she had been on her smoke break. “Ay, not again” you winced at her scolding. “I swear you will be the death of me” she said, walking behind the counter and scooping a handful of ice into a rag to make an ice pack. “I’m sorry Madam Bo, I’ll work off the price of the pot–” Raiden interjected, “I’ll cover the price of the pot, Madam Bo”.

You looked stunned at Raiden, “No! I couldn’t possibly have you do that for me”. “Please, it’s the least I can do–” Madam Bo held up her hand to cut both of you off. “Neither of you will be paying. It was an accident, one that left you injured, I might add. I would not make you pay for that more than you already have, my dear. And you” she turned to Raiden, “You have made me proud. Taking care of her is no easy feat. I can tell you that much”. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she side eyed you, “Go dress your wound and finish your shift early”. “Thank you Madam Bo” you gave a small bow before rushing off to finish waiting for your last tables. 

“You know, you would spend less money on others belongings if you actually spoke with her” Raiden raised a brow in confusion. “She’d break more of YOUR plates if you would actually make any moves on her” Raiden’s mouth opened and closed as he looked for words, “I.. I don’t know what you're talking about”. Madam Bo only rolled her eyes before choosing to lean against the counter next to Kung Lao and light a new cigarette. “You know those are bad for you, right?”, “You want to stay my favorite? Stop talking”.

Finishing the two of their meals, Raiden laughed as Kung Lao palmed his sore and overstuffed stomach, “You were hungry”. Kung Lao only groaned in discomfort, letting out an obnoxious belch. The sound of the check being laid onto the table drew Radien’s attention to you smiling down at him. 

Thank you“” Raiden said with a smile, grabbing the check. But looking down at it only had the words, ‘My shift ends in ten minutes’. Looking up, you were already gone, leaving Raiden stuck with a starstruck expression, jaw dragging the floor.  Standing, and leaving him alone with the bill, Kung Lao walked over to the smoking Madam Bo and reluctantly handed over a number of bills. 

Raiden could care less. He had a date. 

Taglist

~~~~~~

@themoon-shines

[judasiscariotsfemalehysteria]

I watched Judas (2004) and welp

So erm this was supposed to just be a couple sentences but ended up becoming a full-blown rant, please bare with me

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD AND BRIEF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE ⚠️

So basically it all started when Judas saw Jesus going bonkers in the temple and got really horny-

Then he decided to invite Him back to his place for some grapes (malewife mode activated)

Afterwards Caiaphas and co. abduct Judas (this happens a total of three times) and attempt to blackmail him

Caiaphas calls Judas ‘son’

Judas ignores Caiaphas and runs away with Jesus. They start play-fighting and end up wrestling on the ground

Jesus says “I want you to spend eternity with me“

Unfortunately the harmony is short-lived. Judas sees Jesus hugging Matthew and gets jealous

Pilate, Herod and Caiaphas regularly get together for tea and crumpets

Here Judas is basically the stand-in for Simon Zealots. We learned that his father died in an attempt to stir up a Jewish insurrection. Flower!child Jesus asks Judas why he’s staying despite their contradicting beliefs and he replies: “I’m drawn to you like a thirsty horse to a riverbed” 😳

Babygirl 🌸

Supportive mama Iscariot tells her son he should invite his new boyfriend over for Passover, then promptly dies

OMG THE KISS

Judas really just smushed their faces together 🥴

The cinematic choices here are really cool, Jesus is almost always surrounded by light Star Wars hologram lookin ass whereas Judas is consumed by shadow the edgelord

After turning Jesus in Judas instantly regrets it, and tries to get the apostles together to rescue Him. It doesn’t work (obviously) so he screams and cries his way through the trial before going to hang himself

His last thought is of Jesus asking him to join the Eternal Kingdom 🥺

JESUS AND JUDAS’ DEATHS PARALLEL EACHOTHER

The disciples take Judas down because they know it’s what Jesus would have wanted, praying for him as the screen fades to black

The end 🥲

Conclusion

Judas has the vibes of an early 2000s made-for-tv movie (which it is) so I got what I came for. Definitely a fun ride if you like JCS and want to see attractive people acting out a biblically-inaccurate rendition of The Passion in the style of Gladiator (2000) or Troy (2004). The language used is modern, everyone speaks in American or English accents. Pilate even uses the term ‘rabble-rousing’ Overall I give Judas 18 silver pieces out of 30, for being corny and anachronistic but homoerotic enough to satiate all the freaks out there like me

To think this all could have been prevented if Judas just took his iron pills

Bonus quotes:

“Don’t leave me, I thought I was special to you!”

-Judas

“I wish you could love yourself the way I love you.”

-Jesus

P.S. I’ve seen Jonathan Scarfe referred to as ‘the whinier Glenndas’ so please proceed with caution if you do plan on giving it a watch! Here’s the link:

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 9

For the duration of the week, Loki felt concerned about the twins after seeing them with Chris. It niggled at him almost constantly. The only time he didn’t really think about them was when he was with Claire. He had her take over some of the lessons quite a bit that week, partly so he could just enjoy watching her.

Having her scarf at home really helped him to adjust being around her scent, he didn’t rely on the vaseline quite as much as he had at the start. Though he was slightly ashamed to say that he even slept with the scarf next to him on his pillow, it seemed to calm him. He found he had the best sleeps he’d ever had with her scent nearby.

The whole issue with Claire using his gloves to masturbate with, of course, still remained high in his thoughts. So much so he decided to test something out one morning…

He arrived to the school wearing the gloves, making sure to keep them on as he went to his classroom. He deliberately arrived a little late, knowing that she would be there already setting up. When he walked in, he greeted her with a charming smile as always and she greeted him back.

However, he noticed her eyes were drawn instantly to his hands. He could’ve sworn that he spotted her cheeks turn a bit pinker before she turned away from him and began busying herself with writing up today’s work on the chalkboard.

With a big smirk on his face, he went to his desk to get sorted. He removed his gloves and tucked them into his jacket pocket, draping it over the back of his chair.

‘How’s Bat?’ Claire asked, eventually turning around to face him, her cheeks back to normal.

‘Asking after the cat before me? How charming.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Of course. She is the boss after all, isn’t she?’ Claire grinned.

Loki grinned back at her. ‘She is indeed. She’s good, apart from having an utter mad moment this morning at three am. Yelling and skidding around the floor, before ending it by jumping onto the bed and attacking my feet.’

Claire laughed. ‘Brilliant. I love hearing about Bat’s adventures.’

‘How would you like to see the star herself again this weekend?’ Loki offered.

Claire raised her eyebrow and her heartbeat quickened a little. ‘Oh? What’s the occasion?’

‘It’s my dad’s birthday on Saturday, I’m hosting a mini party. The rest of the teachers are invited, some of dad’s friends and colleagues from the hospital will be there, too.’

‘Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?’

‘Of course not. My dad’s been wanting to meet you, actually.’ Loki smiled.

‘Really? You’ve told him about me?’ She raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Of course. You’re my perfect assistant, plus he was delighted to hear that you knew about him and his work. Any chance to talk about that, he will lap it up.’

‘Well, if you’re sure, I’d love to come.’ Claire said excitedly.

‘Excellent.’ Loki grinned.

-

Saturday rolled round and Loki had everything prepared at his place for his dad’s party. He had the double doors open from the kitchen out into the back garden patio, where he had a fire pit blazing to keep everyone warm. As there was going to be too many people to have everyone inside the kitchen comfortably. He had plenty of alcoholic drinks laid out ready on the counter inside, along with a huge spread of food on the dining table.

Claire, Jessica, Michael and David all arrived together first after sharing a taxi. Hannibal and Matt were not long after. Severus didn’t want to go, as expected and Jeremy couldn’t make it. Then some colleagues and friends of Lucius arrived.

‘I should have known I’d find you with Bat.’ Loki grinned at Claire when he found her crouched down in the corner of the kitchen, petting Bat.

‘Of course. If I go missing, just look for Bat.’ She grinned back at him. ‘When is your dad arriving?’

‘Any minute now.’ Loki said excitedly.

‘Does he know about the party?’ Claire asked as she continued stroking Bat.

‘Nope, he thinks he’s just coming round for dinner.’ Loki grinned.

‘I hope he likes surprises, then?’ Claire laughed.

‘He does, nice surprises anyway.’ Loki chuckled.

Michael stood at the window, keeping an eye out, he spotted Lucius coming down the road so called at everyone to hide while Loki went to the door to let him in. Of course, as soon as Lucius stepped inside, he could smell everyone there, but it was still a lovely surprise.

When Lucius walked through to the kitchen everyone threw their hands up and shouted surprise!

‘I should have known you were up to something, Loki.’ Lucius laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

‘Did you really think I’d let your fiftieth birthday pass by without a party?’ Loki smirked.

‘True.’ Lucius laughed. ‘Thank you all for being here.’ He said as he looked around everyone.

Everyone began to mingle, Loki dragged Lucius over to meet Claire straight away, since she was the only person there that he didn’t know yet.

‘Dad, this is Claire, my assistant that I’ve told you about.’ Loki introduced, he wasn’t sure why he felt really happy about them finally meeting.

‘Ah, lovely to meet you. Loki has told me all about you.’ Lucius took her hand in his and briefly kissed the back of her hand before letting go.

‘So good to meet you. Happy Birthday!’ Claire smiled widely.

‘Thank you. Tell me, how are you finding working with my son? I hope he’s not too demanding.’ Lucius chuckled.

‘Oh he’s ruthless, makes me do all the work, I never get to rest. Beats me black and blue daily too, just the worst boss ever.’ Claire teased.

Loki mocked a gasp and put his hand over his heart. ‘I let you have that one hour off the other day!’

The three of them laughed, then Lucius had to go mingle with others but he made sure to talk to Claire plenty too, she had so many questions about him starting up the hospital and the school and Lucius loved talking about his work, even if he couldn’t tell her the full truth about it all.

Everyone had a good time, eating and drinking while mingling. Lucius, Loki, Claire and a few of the others were outside by the firepit.

'Then he realised that the only way to get' Lucius suddenly paused mid-sentence.

He turned around and spotted a shadowed figure in the dark. Claire felt shivers run down her spine as she followed Lucius’ gaze. Then the figure stepped forward out of the darkness, it was Chris. He had the typical smirk on his face as he walked over to them.

‘My invite to my own dad’s birthday party must have gotten lost in the post, hmm?’ He glanced to Loki, then looked back at Lucius. ‘Happy Birthday, dad.’ He handed him over a giftbag.

‘Thank you, Chris. It’s good to see you, son.’ Lucius gave Chris a squeeze on the shoulder, then he looked at Loki, who was close to combusting on the spot.

Lucius stepped closer to Loki. ‘Let’s try and get along just for one night, hmm? Please?’

Loki tore his eyes away from Chris and looked at his dad, his gaze softened and his shoulders sagged very slightly as he nodded in agreement.

Claire felt a little awkward but luckily Jessica came over and dragged her away.

‘If you try anything funny tonight, you’re out of here. Just because dad thinks there’s still good in you, doesn’t mean I think so too.’ Loki snarled quietly at Chris when Lucius went off to talk to one of his colleagues.

Chris put his hands up in defence. ‘No funny business from me.’

Loki really wasn’t happy having Chris in his home, especially uninvited, but he would deal with it for one night for his dads’ sake. He knew that Lucius still loved him, that he felt partly to blame for the way Chris ended up.

So, Loki gritted his teeth and bared it, inviting him inside to get a drink and food.

Claire had been petting Bat again inside, but when Chris and Loki walked into the kitchen, Bat went running over to Chris and started purring around his legs. Chris chuckled and crouched down to give her a scratch.

‘Can’t believe you’ve still got this little runt.’ He sounded surprised.

‘Of course, I do.’ Loki said in response.  

‘I remember the day I found her as if it was yesterday. She must be what, fifteen now?’ Chris stood up and Bat wandered off to look for her next victim to coax affection from.

‘Fifteen and a half.’ Loki said dryly as he sipped his drink, eyes locked on Chris to make sure he wasn’t going to do anything.

‘You found her?’ Claire asked Chris.

Chris grinned. ‘I did. Tiny abandoned kitten at the riverside, in a box. She was around six weeks old, completely helpless. I’ve never been a huge cat fan, but I knew Loki was. I got her seen by a vet, got some supplies and a little ribbon for her neck, then gifted her to him for his birthday the following week.’

Claire wasn’t sure why she found herself so surprised at hearing that. With their relationship currently, it was really hard to imagine.

Loki was reluctantly dragged away as a few of Lucius’ older friends wanted to find out all about how Loki was getting on with teaching.

‘Did you name her or did Loki?’ Claire asked Chris as she went to get some food from the table, Chris followed her over.

‘Loki did. I would have picked a more sophisticated name, obviously.’

‘Bat’s a cute name, she suits it.’ Claire shrugged and did her best to keep a little distance from him as she kept moving along the table, piling stuff onto her plate, but he ended up crowding her at the end of the table.

‘Not as cute as you are.’ He teased, leaning in close so she could feel his breath against her neck.

Her cheeks turned a little red as a bad shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t know how to respond to that, but she managed to back away a little and held her plate up on front of her, so she had something between them.

‘I need to speak to Matt about something. Catch you later.’ She said quickly and began walking away from him.

‘Not if I catch you first.’ Chris growled low, but Claire heard what he said.

She made a beeline for Matt and Hannibal who were sitting just outside near the fire pit.

‘What’s Chris doing here?’ Hannibal asked her.

‘Not really sure, I know he wasn’t invited and Loki isn’t happy at all, but he’s putting on a happy face for his dad’s sake.’ Claire said quietly.

‘Yeah, Loki looks like he wants to deck him.’ Matt said while looking at Loki, who stood just inside the kitchen speaking with a few people, but his focus wasn’t entirely on them as he just glared over at Chris, who spoke to Jessica and Michael.

‘They weren’t always like this.’ Lucius sighed sadly as he had overheard the three talking when he went to join them.

‘No?’ Claire asked.

‘No. Loki adored Chris when he was a baby, right up into his teens. He looked up to him. And while Chris didn’t like to admit it, he always had a soft spot for his younger brother.’

Claire smiled, but then it fell. She couldn’t imagine the two being that close, considering how they acted now. ‘What happened that tore them apart so much?’ She asked.

‘That’s not my story to tell, I’m afraid. Though even I don’t agree with some things Chris does, he’s still my son.’

Claire looked back over at Loki, then at Chris. What on earth drove them apart so much?

‘I’m surprised they can be civil enough at work.’ Hannibal commented.

‘They both like their job too much to let it effect that.’ Lucius said.

To everyone’s surprise, Chris managed to behave himself for the duration of the party. Claire made sure to stay away from him unless with someone else. She found herself sticking close by Loki for the night, especially when she began feeling tipsy from the wine.

When people began to leave later into the night, Loki noticed Chris hovering, often looking at Claire. Which of course worried Loki.

‘Is there a chance any of you can get Chris to leave with you? I’m getting worried with the way he’s hovering around and trying to get Claire on her own.’ Loki said quietly to Jessica, Matt and David.

‘I'm just leaving, leave it to me.’ Jessica patted Loki on the shoulder.

Jessica headed over to Chris. ‘Hey Mr, be a gentleman and walk a lonely woman home, will you?’

Chris rolled his eyes but to Loki’s relief, he obliged to walk her home. He said bye to Lucius before heading out, he tried to speak to Claire, but Loki managed to get her away from him in time. As soon as Chris left, Loki visibly relaxed.

‘He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?’ Claire asked Loki softly.

‘He does, but I had to let him stay, for dad’s sake.’ Loki sighed.

‘Well, I’d say that definitely makes you the better man, putting issues aside for the happiness of your dad.’ Claire smiled at him and put her hand on his arm, squeezing.

Loki swallowed hard at her contact, god he wanted more of her. He was so relieved that he managed to control himself better around her now, though he still found it challenging.

‘Thanks, Claire. I must say, having you here too has made this all the better.’ Loki admitted.

Claire felt her cheeks heat up at his comment.

‘Well son, thank you so much for this party. It's been really wonderful.’ Lucius interrupted.

‘You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed it and that everyone managed to keep it a secret.’ Loki grinned as he gave his dad a big hug.

‘Lovely to meet you, Claire. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.’ Lucius said warmly to her.

‘You too.’ She smiled at him.

Loki walked with his dad to the front door. ‘She’s lovely, Loki. I can see why she’s your soulmate. I wouldn’t worry too much about Chris, I’m sure he’s only toying with you.’

‘I’m not so sure about that.’ Loki grumbled.

Lucius squeezed Loki’s shoulder before heading out. When Loki went back to the kitchen, he realised it was just Claire left. She had started tidying up.

‘You don’t need to do that.’ Loki said as he rushed to take the plates from her.

‘It’s ok, I want to help. Can’t leave you with all of this mess since everyone else has buggered off.’ She laughed.

Loki’s heart melted completely.

‘Well, on one condition.’ Loki said firmly.

‘What’s that?’

‘You let me walk you home afterwards, since it’s so late.’

‘Ok, deal.’ Claire nodded.

[undermine-the-instinct]

Crush or Chance?

● Bard!reader masterlist ● Next part.... ●Warnings: None ● Wc: 5.9K

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us. So what be said for a fourth time?

(Or in other words, Kaveh met you long before you knew him.)

If he's being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. 

Or maybe it's something more like a bittersweet admiration, the same way you'd look at phoenix and think, this will end in flames.

The more he worked, the more clients he contracted the more dissatisfied he became. Functionality over art, structure over beauty, efficiency over soul. He felt like life was being drained out of him. And after a while, he started thinking; Why should I? What was the point? However great he was in the eyes of others, no matter what praises they heap onto him, he is but one person. What could he do on his own?

And how arrogant of him to hope to even try! What has he ever truly done? Even his Magnum opus; A palace that doesn't even belong to him and has buried him in a lifelong debt. He was never really ever going to amount to much.

 It was during one of these depressing bouts of his that he met you.

Bars are cesspools, collecting tears and drunken spurs, but also joy. Like his polar opposite you lit up the room, and he couldn't help but feel drawn. Your voice resounded throughout the space, and it stirred something deep in his heart. He felt like he had just found the answer to a puzzle he was grilling over for so long, and seemingly, for no reason at all. He was alive! He was in a bar! Shouldn't he be joining in on the merry?

And so he danced the night away. He sang and greeted old friends and he paid for all his drinks that night. It wasn't until the place was closing that he thought about the bard that stirred his heart and feet into action. But by then you were long gone. If it's meant to be I'll find them again, he thought, and began the trek home.

He didn’t get to meet you that night. He found you again though another day, dancing in the center of a crowd that had surrounded you. There was a man playing a fiddle, while another played on a flute. You were barefoot, a scarf around your waist trailing behind you in a ribbon of silk, a smile on your face. You weren't afraid to get too close to the crowd, you snapped fingers and captured a delighted stranger in your scarf, taking a child by the hand and twirling them around and around.

Mentioning art is the quickest way to end a conversation, is something that is generally known in Sumeru. But there was no conversation to be had here, there was only music and laughter, for the simple joy of being able to move. He felt like a bystander watching a moving painting.

Shouts sounded behind him, and as one the crowd turned back to see. Matra were approaching with scowls, a collective thunderstorm to usher the people on and disperse the crowd.

“Hey! You folks! You're under arrest for public misconduct and unsanctioned musical performance!”

“Uh, no we’re not!” with a last bow to the crowd, and a trilling sound from the flutist, you and your companions ran in opposite directions, gone like magpies in the wind. One second you're there and then you're gone. 

Kaveh wants to know what your name is. Who are you? 

“Oh, that pest? Just some runt from all the way in Monstadt,” a client frowns, deep and fissured.

“One of those traveling sorts, so let's hope that they pack up and get moving soon.”

“Have they been especially troublesome?” He scoffs at this and looks at Kaveh with wide disbelieving eyes.

“‘Especially trouble?’ Like you wouldn’t believe! You and I both know how the Akademiya hates those artsy types, and then this person shows up and decides to make a whole mockery of that. And for what? Out of spite? How childish.”

“I might have seen them around actually, at a few bars I've visited with some colleagues,” Kaveh supplies, refilling the man’s drink.

“They didn’t look like the sort to cause much trouble.” He’s a liar. As a matter of fact, that smile you wore back then spoke nothing but mystique and mischief. 

“Those Monstadt types always like to cause trouble. They had one revolution and think themselves all martyrs and rebels. Trust me, I’m older than you and I know. Remember that one girl who graduated from the Akademiya in two years? I even offered to sponsor that girl and look where she is now; working as a librarian in that grass field of all places,” he scowled.

“What a waste of talent. I’ve had enough of them, so let's hope this one hops over to Fontaine or something, they'd be welcomed over there I bet. Now, didn't we come here for something? The plans for my building, you got them?”

“Of course sir, right here…” This isn't the first time he's heard something like this, especially amongst his oldest clients. It's a shared sentiment, and it feels like something bitter and vindictive. He knocks back his own glass.

Kaveh doesn't know who you are, but he wonders; if you ever went to Fontaine, would his mother like you?

The next time he sees you is in a public garden. And he's late, he was supposed to be at a meeting with another client at least forty five minutes ago, but rushing along, the way you were just standing there caught his eye.

He can hardly see you above all the rolled blueprints and stuffed folders he's carrying, he forgot his bag and it was too late to go back and get it, but he could tilt his head back and get a clearer look at your form in the grass.

Standing in the shade and dappled sunlight of a great tree, barefoot and…posing. He followed your gaze to a book you had lying open in the grass, and saw a few poses and stands he half recognized, all hand drawn with notes in the margins.

You paid no mind to the odd looks or stares you were getting, the way that people gave you a wide berth of space, how some shook their heads and scurried their children on, the way that others would stop and stare before shaking themselves out of their reverie. Kaveh wasn’t part of either group, but he was still…watching you.

He must have been more obvious than most because you lifted your head just as you were stretching, tilting your head in question like a bird, an automatic smile on your face. Quizzical but warm. He tilted his head back at you, like the idiot he was, and your smile broke out wider. 

“Good morning to you too, stranger! What are you up to this fine morning?”

Him? You were speaking with him? He lifted up the filled blueprints he had in his arms, obscuring his face more. “Off to work. And, um, how about you?”

“Stretching! Or at least, pretending to.” You twirled a bit into your next position, so that you had your back to him now.

“You're not doing a very good job pretending.”

“Oh? Am I being too obvious?” There was mirth in your voice, amusement.

“You're doing an arabesque in a demi-plie, I think it's obvious.” You stumbled a little and whirled so fast to look at him that he wondered for a second if you could get whiplash. He was holding too many blueprints he could imagine it was hard to see anything other than his bob of his hair and his brows.

“...You know what an Arabesque is?” He shrugged carefully.

”My mother lives in Fontaine, and they are fond of performances there. I know a few terms.” He saw your expression fall a bit through the peeps of his papers, but you brightened up before he could say anything more.

“That's still more than most people I've talked to. What else do you know?”

Kaveh could see you, eager and open to a stranger like himself. He recalled the way the crowd clapped along with you when you were dancing in the street. The way you sang, loud and unabashed, like a thunderbird whose only job it was was to wake the world, to a prophecy now foretold. But he couldn’t tell the future, and he thought neither could you.

How naively brazen you are. How unapologetically bold. How lovely.

“...Aren't you afraid?”

“What?” Your face shuttered off into confusion but he went on.

“Sumeru isn't the most ideal place for musicians and artists. I’m sure you've felt the general attitude and atmosphere, so, what are you doing? Aren't you scared of the repercussions?”

“Repercussions?”

“The sages have the matra set on you. That's not a rumor-it's fact. Aren't you scared of what else they could do to you?’’

“Well yeah, of course I am? But what else am I supposed to do, change the way I live?” His eyes widen, while you scoff, kicking up your feet.

“I’ve said it before and I'll say it again, they’re frightened of us.”

“Frightened? Frightened of what?” What could the sages, the governing force and face of Sumeru, have to fear from the populace?

“Frightened of what we can do? What has humanity done when pushed against the corner, or forced inside the cave? What have we done when the night falls and the rain pours?” You spread out your arms and tilt your head towards the sky.

“We sing! We gather together to tell stories over our work, we dance around the fire, we paint the tales of our passages onto the cavern walls, all things we have done before the written word. Even then, when we learned to write and record our stories, we created fables and tall tales to tell one another.”

“After humans discovered how to read and write, civilization did start to advance, at a before unprecedented rate.,” He admits.

“Art is what pushed civilizations to prosperity. It continues to.  The only reason The Akademiya doesn't acknowledge this is because they don't see nor recognize everything as a form of art.”

“Isn’t that a bit naive though?” He shuffles the load in his arms.

“That sounds like romanticism to me.”

“It is. And what's wrong with that?” You shrug.

"Tell me, who embroiders those elegant robes they all wear? Who tills and plants their outdoor gardens? Who builds their offices and homes and buildings? Who cooks their food or carves their furniture? Art is intrinsic to humanity. It is inevitable, irrefutable. Are they trying to deny that?" You scowled.

"Do they not find these things lovely, and necessary? Do they think themselves above the divine craft of creation? Do theyhink themselves as Gods?" You scowled harder, but then sighed, letting your breath out in a single push.

"Hm. But, that's not the question you asked me, right?"

“....No.” Then you thought, tilted your head up to the sky and huffed out a laugh.

“Well, actually, yes I am. But what else can I do, change the way I live?...No. I’m going to continue as I've always have, and if that’s something that makes me a target, then that’s just what comes with the territory of being a star.” You grinned, bright.

“....There are rumors that the Akademyia will deploy the General Mahamatra to subdue you if you make any sort of big fuss.”

“Well, what kind of star doesn't have a scandal or two under their belt?” You grinned again, but wobbly at the corners, and take a good look at all the papers he's carrying.

‘I…hope I'm not keeping you up? You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry before–” He gasped, cutting you off.

"Oh Archons, yes! Damn it, I'm going to be so late!!” He got completely sidetracked!! He gave you a nod that he hoped you saw and ran off to his appointment. Hopefully the client was still there.

Life is art, and art is intrinsic to life, basically, right? If that's the way someone like you sees the world, maybe he can adopt that mindset.

And hopefully he'd find you again, and greet you properly this time, no matter what rumors you were embroiled in. He’ll leave it up to fate this time as well.  it's already led him to you twice before.

You're so pretty. Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you already.

He woke up to a dark familiar room, and a dull throbbing in his head.

This was familiar, and normal. He wasn't kidnapped, or anything. He must have gone drinking again, and stumbled his way back home. The question was how he got inside. He’s pretty sure that he lost his keys several days ago and hasn't yet found the time to go get a new pair made. So the question stands…

Actually, the question can wait. His mouth feels like it's full of dust and cotton, and he needs water. That's his first priority.

His feet are bare and the floor cool as he pads his way over to the kitchen, trying to rub the heaviness out of his eyes. 

When he reaches the kitchen he stops, and rubs at them again because what are you doing sitting at the kitchen island talking to his jerk of a roommate?

“Oh, you're up.” You stand and walk over to him, reaching out like he needs steadying.

“What are you doing here?”

“We went out drinking and I carried you home, remember?”

“Oh, I remember of course, I wasn't talking to you though dear, I was talking to the man standing there like a mother ready to catch her kid sneaking back inside.”

“Because that's exactly what you did.” The bastard had a steaming cup up to his face, not even bothering to look at him. “How did you get in without your keys?”

“We used the key under the mat. I lost my keys, so how else?”

“I had taken the key and hidden it somewhere else.”

“What? Why would you hide the key?!”

“Because then you'd lose that one too, obviously.”

“Tch. Wait, then how did…” You laugh and shuffle a little, culprit.

“Yeah, sorry, this is my fault. I really wanted to get Kaveh into his bed so I kinda…picked the lock? It’s not broken or anything but still…” You lower your head in apology.

“I wasn’t willing to be patient, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I'm sure you were in a hurry.” Al haitham sighs in reply and Kaveh bristles.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What do you think I meant?”

“I think you know exactly what you were insinuating.”

“Then why don't you spell it out for me?” He finally looked at him, tri-colored eyes gleaming oddly in the light. He looked…Apprehensive? No, that was just irritation, as usual.

Kaveh clicks his tongue in annoyance and turns back to you.

“See? What did I tell you about this guy? You don't need to apologize to this jerk, alright? You’re perfectly fine.”

“Oh? Talking behind my back now are you.”

Kaveh scoffs, heat curling in his chest. Or maybe just the leftover alcohol.  “It's nothing you wouldn't outright say yourself, so no need to ponder what I’ve said directly. I only spoke the truth, which is even sadder if you ask me.”

“Okay, stop it, that's enough,” You step between the two of them, frowning.

“There is no need for this petty back and forth. It’s late and we should all be in bed already. In fact,” You turn to him, “You were sleeping when I left you, do you need something?”

“...Were you two talking?”

“Just…greeting each other. He came in not too long after we did.”

Another cup sits on the table, softly steaming and obviously yours. It hasn't been long, but you’ve been here for more than a few minutes at least.

You scratch the back of your head with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I should have waited, then I wouldn’t have needed to break in.”

“No harm no foul.” Kaveh’s mouth gapes open when Alhaitham waves you off.

“‘No harm no foul?’ Have you lost your mind?! Are you sick?!”

“I'm perfectly fine you fool,” He sighs through his nose.

“I just expect as much behavior from any of your companions. Nothing was harmed in the end so its fine, I’ll just have the locks changed tomorrow.” He drinks from the cup, and looks up at him.

“I hope you know I’m not paying for your own set of keys.”

“What?! Why not–”

“Kaveh,” You interject. “Are you alright? You were dead asleep when I set you down.”

He groans, rubbing his forehead.

“About that, Thanks for carrying me all the way back here. I was the one who invited you out but you ended up taking care of me.”

“Well, you let me pick the place so I guess it's even between us. Did you get thirsty or something?”

He nods. “Then go lay back down, I'll bring it to you.”

“What? I can't have you serve me under my roof.”

Alhaitham snorts. “‘Your roof?’ Technically its–”

“Ah ah ah!” You cut him off with a raise of your voice and a sharp look, Kaveh grins from behind your shoulder. Alhaitham’s eyes widen by your audacity, and by the archons are you lovely. You turn back to him.

“It's fine. You're the one who needs to rest so let me help you out. Go lay down.”

“Well. if you insist.” He turns and starts the trek back to the room, and the house is quiet enough that he can hear your lowered voices as he walks off. He can't help but feel that you sent him away so that you could say something, or finish talking with Alhaitham. But why would you?

He has a hand on the knob, shutting his door when the thought strikes him, Why is Alhaitham even up at this hour? Sure, sometimes he'd get back late from his scribe duties or whatever, but that was rare. And it's not like he went drinking out late that often (as if he had people to go with him).

And beyond that, why was he talking with you? Of course you were amazing and charming in your own right but people like the both of you don't mesh very well, and with your reputation, it was best to avoid him. As The Scribe, he was technically a Matra, after all.

Oh fuck he’s a matra.

He's just about to go swing the door open to dash to your rescue when it swings open of its own accord, and there you were with a glass of water, wide eyed to see him there.

He grabs your shoulders and tries to turn you to steer you back, but damn it you’re strong. You don’t budge.

“Uh, buddy? Are you alright? What's going on?”

“You have to get out of here, like right now.”

“What, why? Can we calm down for a second?” 

“Nonono, you can’t, you have to go now–” He tries to grab you and pick you up around the waist, but you spin around behind him, grab him by his collar and drag him inside the room.

“I’m being serious!” You shut the door, a laugh under your breath.

“I’m sure you are, so explain yourself first.”

“My roommate, he’s the Grand Scribe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So he’s technically a Matra. And I wouldn’t put it behind him to do something so you need to… like, go, before he reports you or something! One word and the matra would come swarming in here like flies to honey.”

“But he won’t.”

“Darling listen–”

“But he won’t. Not only have I already done my community service, paid my fines, did my time and stayed out of trouble, he actually wanted to thank me.”

What? “Thank you for what?”

“For getting you inside quietly. He just came back from work he said, and didn’t want to deal with any of your drunken shenanigans. So he said it's alright that I picked the lock.”

“He told you it's alright?”

“Yeah, as long as I use the extra key next time.”

“What?!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“He told you where the secret key is?”

“Yep. And he said that he's gonna give me a copy of the new one.” You pop the ‘p’.

“And sorry, the stipulation that I can use it is that I’m not allowed to let you know where it is.” He sucks his teeth and they laugh, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sorry love. But come now, take off those scarves so you can lay down, alright? It's late.” And something goes warm and gooey when you use that soft tone of voice, so Kaveh does exactly that, and takes the glass from you with a grateful look when you hand it to him.

“Does your head hurt?” 

“Just a little. Not as bad as it usually does.”

“See? That's why you drink water before you pregame.”

“Well now I know for the next time.” He takes a big gulp and hands the rest of the glass to you, waving it away when you try to put it back in his hands.

“Oh, fine.” You finish it yourself then, and Kaveh falls back into the sheets, heavy lidded once more.

“How come you’re not drunk or stumbling, hm? It’s not fair.”

“Oh, I am drunk,” you giggle, “I just know how to hide it really well.”

“It's not fair.”

“That’s because I'm from Monstadt dear, my blood has at least a 10% alcohol content.” Kaveh sighs and covers his eyes, drinking in the quiet. You’re sitting next to him, humming softly under your breath, a brush away from fully singing.

“Hey, why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me those pet names. Like honey or dear or love. Why do you do that?” He looks and catches the tail end of your shrug.

“Because you're my friend. You’re like, the only real friend I've made in this entire damn nation, so I gotta be a little sweet with you, yeah?"

“Sweet with me?” He turns so he's facing you.

“Yeah! You make syrup with honey and not salt, right?” You smile, gold flashing at your throat in the low lamp light.

This close he can see the warm flush that the alcohol has given you, the way you give your smiles even more easily than you normally do, eyes soft and direct.

If he’s being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. There's no other way to put it. He's so excited to see you, whenever he can, whenever you can, and he wants to see you now more than ever. He wishes you didn’t have to hide so often because he wants to be seen out in public with you, not sneaking like teenagers to some seedy bar, where people are too drunk or too downtrodden to care who comes in.

You…like those kinds of places though, odd as you are. You order a drink, and as soon as you down it you're tuning up an instrument and springing into song. By the third song the whole bar or tavern is joining in, and tears are replaced with smiles, at least for that night.

“Will you stay the night?”

You laugh, again. “And where would I sleep, silly?”  

“Right here. Right next to me.”

“Oh, I could never.”

“But you could.”

“I could. But I won't.” You move to get off the bed and Kaveh shoots up, grabbing onto your sleeve.

“Then you can have the bed. Just, stay here. For now. Until morning.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, and his heart while you're at it, while he waits for your answer. Maybe it's because of the way he implores you, or this quiet moment of the night, but you sigh and he knows you’ve given in.

“The bed is big enough for the both of us. Scoot over.” He does as he's told and hopes his face isn't giving his excitement away. He slides under the covers while you slip off your outer layers, and soon enough he can feel you slither beneath the sheets next to him.

“You want to keep the lamp on?”

“No, turn it off.”

“Alright.” The room floods in darkness, and you settle back down.

He’s had a couple sleepovers before. Although, the majority of these were before his father’s…incident, while he was still a very young boy. The others were during his Akademiya days, and were most often just him and his colleagues passing out after days of working on a project non-stop.

So this was new. He’s perfectly aware of his and your bodies; every shift, every position, the way your breathing sounds. He wonders how he’s gonna fall asleep like this.

“Kaveh?”

“Yes?”

“Are you up?”

“Yeah. How else could I answer you?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” You giggle. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did love.”

“Another question, silly.”

“Of course.” You wriggle a bit till you're laying on your stomach, face towards him.

“Why didn't you come to the anniversary performance? The one with me and Miss Nilou?” He winces, and turns to face you too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was work?” He sighs.

“Really. I had to meet some bigshot client and I tried but I couldn’t reschedule.

“I really wanted to go.”

“...Yeah, I wanted you to go too.” The guilt twists and churns inside him, and he sits up in bed.

“I'm sorry, truly. Tell me when the next one is and I'll be there, I promise. I’ll even miss an appointment if I have to.”

The silence reigns heavy, you don't speak. He's about to repeat his words, swear on them, when you answer him. 

“Cyno came and interrogated Zubayr and his son. He then had the members takes a few days leave of absence so that he could interrogate us each. So, Zubayr decided that I shouldn't have any more performances, for the time being. The whole thing with Cyno put the theater on blast, so no more future performances.” Your voice is somber and dull, like a worn knife, disappointment sour.

“And no more public performances either, huh?” 

“Not for a while. Cyno is keeping a closer eye out on me. The only reason I could go out with you today was because he had to go out on an excursion, and I know how to avoid the lower Matra.’ You sigh and roll over onto your back.

“So maybe its better if you didn’t come. You would have been targeted too if you were seen with me.”

“...Well, you might not be able to perform publicly, but The Akademiya has no say in what goes on in private property.”

“So?”

“If you…ever want to sing or dance or anything really, you can come find me. This place was given to Alhaitham and I to be refurbished as living quarters, or you can even find me at the Architects Guild, since that building isn’t government owned.”

“Kaveh,” and now it's your turn to sit up. “I can’t put you in danger like that.”

“I won't be in danger.”

“You know, better than I probably do, that the Akademiya don't like outliers. I’m an outlier. If they come to know that you’re friends with me, what do you think will happen to you?”

“It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. Not really.”

“I’ve undermined them and they really don’t like that. It's hard enough for you, the light of the Kshahrewar, to get clients and make ends meet. I don't want to make things any harder.”

“Things are already hard and I'm doing fine enough, so you don't need to worry about me. The worst I’ll have to deal with is a couple of rumors, and those are everywhere in Sumeru.

"If my reputation is as good as people proclaim I can survive a few rumors.. Furthermore,” He cuts you off as you open your mouth to speak.

“I know how hard it is for you to be here. I know you feel like you have something to prove but that doesn't mean I don't want to make things easier for you, even at my own slight expense. You can't change my mind, love, so don’t try.” Silence returns to the room in a wave, while you two stay poised, tense. Kaveh doesn’t know if you can see him in the darkness; he stares into the room until the dark takes over his vision, blinding him until he blinks it back again. 

“I used to be a knight you know,” You speak.” Back home in Monstadt, I was a part of the Knights of Favonius.”

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

“I quit,” You continue without fanfare.

“I started to hate my life, and hate myself. I was young too, and I was in a relationship that was falling apart and my whole life felt like it was ending.” You laugh.

“Goes to show how naive I was then. But I quit, and I left, and I just decided to do the things that made me happy, and went along with my morals. I never wanted to feel so miserable and hopeless ever again. Those feelings still sometimes come back, but what I do then is go to where the people were, and sing, make them smile and laugh.

“I don't have that option in Sumeru. I mean I do but, it's never been a choice I’ve ever been actively punished for, before. I'm going to keep doing it of course. I’ll be damned if I ever let a government silence me, but…

“But it still hurts a little, you know?” He reaches out and drags you closer till you're resting in his arms. You've hugged one another before, but this time he wraps his arms fully around you till your brow rests on his collarbone, his cheek against your hair.

“Well, my offer is open for you anytime, at least. I’m sorry my home hasn’t been exactly welcoming to you.”

“Mhm.”

“It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize,” You breathe, reaching to hold him back.

“You've been perfectly wonderful. I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Well, we are both fellow artists on the brink of homelessness, so we ought to stick together.”

“If your roommate ever kicks you out you can stay with me. And if I'm ever kicked out we can roam the streets together.” He chuckles, and he's sure you can feel it where you're pressed to him.

“Well, I can play an instrument, so maybe we can be traveling bards. We can go to Fontaine and meet my mother.”

“Oh, that would be a shock, I bet. I met a girl in Liyue once who plays that Fontaine rock music. I could send her back something. Is your mother a nice lady?”

His chest twinges, remembering tears,  heavy silences and dull eyes, The memory of sunshine.

“She's a rather shy woman, and she’s just gotten over some adversary. She's perfectly lovely.”

“What does she look like?"

“Well, I suppose you can look at me and figure it out,” He shrugs. “I've been told I look remarkably like her.”

“Oh, so she's beautiful then.” He starts, and he feels a flush crawl over his face, warm and slow.

“Oh, you sweet talker, you.” You tilt your face up and he's sure you have that sweet smile on your face, that cat's curl.

“I speak only the truth, my dear, I swear it. Anywho, how else am I supposed to keep you by my side, if not with my wily words?”

“Perhaps your fiery temperament? Your musical skill? Your graceful figure? Your sweet kisses?” And you reach up and kiss him, taking the bait.

And yes, you’ve done this before as well, nothing further, but Kaveh’s heart never fails to race. Your mouth is skilled in more than just song, and your tongue is sinfully soft.

You definitely feel the heat of his face when you pull away and rub your cheek against his.

“You’re absolutely precious Kaveh.”

‘Oh, don't patronize me,” He grumbles, and pulls you in even tighter, shoulder to hip aligned, legs entangled. “We have to sleep now. It’s late enough.”

“Why should we?” You flirt. You brush your mouth against his once more and snuggle yourself closer. 

“”I'm afraid your kiss has sent my blood racing. It will be hard enough to go to sleep now.”

“Hm. Well, why don’t you sing then? Maybe something calming, a lullaby your mother would sing to you before bed.”

“Hm…I spoil you too much already.”

“But you'll do it, right?” He chuckles when you bonk your head against his. But you settle down, and it's not long till your voice comes hither, soft and lilting. It's hardly more than a tune under your breath, a hum in your throat, but it is soothing, and soon enough he’s actually asleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, the dull throb lessened but persistent in his head, you are not in his bed, or his home. There's only a single note, a badly drawn winking rabbit, but he smiles and pockets it, getting ready for another day. He’ll run into you again soon enough. And if not, then he’ll simply find you.

There seems to be a commotion a few streets away, from what he could hear. Kaveh sighs, harsh and loud, and pushes himself off the wall that he's been leaning against. He came out for some fresh air, and the promise of some spectacle does not entice him. He starts making the trek back to the Architects guild.

Pounding footsteps slap the ground behind him, and he turns just in time for a figure to dash into him. He barely shakes off his shock before he reaches out to half catch the person, but the weight drags him down and he falls too.

“What the hell…? Archons, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for being in the way.” And its the way you turn your head to check behind you that gives him a clear look at your face, familIar and shocking. He barely has the sense of mind to reply back, struck like hammer against a molten steel.

He…hadn’t been looking for you, to be honest. It’s been three times already, that you’ve met but never properly seen nor greeted each other, and he had hoped another opportunity would just…come. Fall into his lap, luck be damned. 

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us.

So what could be said for a fourth time?

“....the General Mahamatra.”

“The what now?” the General Mahamatra? He heard the rumors, but he never thought that you would prove yourself trouble enough for the sages to deploy him. Against you?

You must have done something reckless, like dancing in the streets again. Or singing in the taverns or just being too you. You were lovely, but sumeru likes its lovely things in glass cases, not prancing in bars or dashing down alleyways.

You speak quickly, and the words just register in his brain before he hears the commotion in the plaza, nearer now, the wince on your face and the way you jolt, ready to flee. He makes a decision.

He grabs at the hand fate and has dealt him, and pulls you further inside the commercial alleyways, knowing exactly where he wants to take you and nothing of what he wants to say to you.

But he can start with this. “ I have heard of you! I’ve been wanting to meet you!” He grins, bright like a star.

“I’m Kaveh. You are?

Taglist

@jjkclub, @jaguarthecat, @swivy123, @seajellyx, @ash-in-lavender, @pepithe3rd, @uchihaeirin .

[generalzar0ff]

Most of this was drawn in September of last year, but I decided to finally complete it!

So, here are the penguins of Madagascar and their lemur friends as humans!

I know this has been done to death already, but I wanted to provide my own interpretation. I’ll provide my design choices for each character under the cut, if anybody’s interested!

Skipper: I do not want to throw shade to anyone, but most of the human Skippers I’ve seen are either too young, too skinny, or too muscular. This guy may present himself as an authority figure, but let’s face it: this guy is your average middle-aged man with a fascination for cool spy stuff and repressed bisexuality. Trust me, my dad knows all about it. Anyway, I gave him a tacky nautical flag shirt, mostly because i couldn’t find any high-quality “hawaiian shirt with wwii planes” patterns. If it weren’t for King Julien’s design, I would’ve given Skipper aviators.

Kowalski: Typical nerdy guy. When I was showing a work in progress of the penguins, a friend of mine suggested that Kowalski’s hairline should be extra receded, and they were right. I know that this is the simplest design, but that’s because this guy just doesn’t seem the type for style. More of a practicality and formality guy. I suppose now’s a good time to mention that each of the brothers has an element of orange around their feet, cuz, well, the penguins have orange feet.

Rico: I really hope you guys get the energy that this guy listens to nu-metal. Since human beings not infused with cartoon animal wackiness cannot regurgitate convenient items, I decided to give human Rico a bunch of pockets from which cartoon HUMAN wackiness can occur. His outfit is also a bit more military-like than the others, what with the bomber jacket, cargo shorts, and combat boots. I also gave him what is essentially the boss floss from Splatoon 3’s amiibo gear.

Private: According to Penguin Lore™️, they’re all brothers, but Private is adopted, hence why he’s a bit younger [but not a child!] and I gave him a different hair texture and skin tone. His shirt has an icon from his favorite show, a Lunacorn. I also made his blue nail polish match its eyes. I take honor in the fact that a friend told me “I have several transmasc friends who look like this”.

Maurice: A lot of people who draw TPOM gijinkas don’t even draw him, which is a shame, because I love Maurice. Even more offensive is that some people don’t even depict him as an old black man, which goes against everything I know to be true in my heart. Anyway, he seems like the type to enjoy autumn/winter gear, so I gave him a big ol’ trench coat, as well as a scarf that looks like his fur puff. And the newsie cap just felt right.

King Julien: Here’s where all the flashiness went! According to an actor whom I have a personal vendetta against and thus will not name, Julien’s accent is Sri Lankan, so I took inspiration from their traditional clothing for his outfit, albeit more “cunty”, as today’s kids call it. It was imperative that this man has his toes out for obvious reasons, so I gave him sandals. I honestly have no good explanation for the leopard print leggings other than it came to me in a divine vision. Or something. The sunglasses mimic the color of his eyes!

Mort: Look, it was really hard for me not to just draw Molière from Atlantis: The Lost Empire, since his design is already kind of what I imagine this fellow looking like as a “human”. Admittedly, I’m not too proud of this design, but i think it gets the job done. His outfit purposely clashes: a matching hat and sweater, but with sweatpants, and he’s not even wearing shoes! I know the original Mort doesn’t have any purple in his design, but I felt like its inclusion made him look a little weirder. And then there’s his eyes. Yeah.

Hope this wasn’t too long, and thank you to anyone who read this portion of the post!

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. a little snippet from the au i can't stop thinking about. reader is from an american colony with a specified job.

Mirai’s eyes widen and her lips form an ‘o’ as you set the thinly wrapped parcel in front of her the moment she walks in and plops down at your table. You’d called her to come in this morning to the medical barn for a follow-up, after you’d checked her itchy scalp yesterday for the evil scourge of head lice and thankfully found nothing, and she’d come in practically skipping at the crack of dawn. 

Mirai is always a delight to see, and seeing her first thing in the morning is akin to seeing the sun rise.

“Thank you for coming in so early! Did you sleep well?” you ask, grinning. Her eyes are still drawn to the package you’ve set before her as she nods in affirmation and you smile. 

“Oneesan?” 

She’s curious as to why you’re handing her a gift and you bristle slightly at the familiarity of her appellation, not because you don’t want to be called this way, but because you can see her older brother enter the room soon after without saying a word but with a politely neutral expression on his face. You shouldn’t expect him not to be trailing closeby wherever his younger sister is concerned, but being called Big Sis around her actual big - very big - brother makes your cheeks warm. 

“I wanted to see you to give you this. Winter is coming, it’s already October, and I wanted to make sure you were warm,” you explain. You give Tsukasa a polite acknowledgement upon his entry with a nod of the head, but look away quickly and open the parcel, pulling out a hat, a pair of mittens and a knitted cream and scarlet scarf. She looks to her brother for a moment for approval once he comes to a stop standing behind her and he nods, but his eyes are on you. 

“Good morning, doctor.”

Your impulse to remind him that you’re only a doctor out of necessity, not out of merit, is suppressed. “Good morning, Tsukasa. Thank you for bringing Mirai back.” 

You keep your tone formal with him but as you speak, you’re helping Mirai pull the hat over her head, your hands gentle on her face as you turn it once it’s on to see how it looks. “Do you like it?” you ask, a smile across your face. Hers is wider, out-matching yours by miles, and she quickly puts on the mittens.

“So warm!” she exclaims. She comes in closer and you wrap the scarf in a loop around her neck as she spins, laughing all the while. It’s hard to remember that she’s an adolescent not a child because of her short stature and small frame, but there are reasons for that. After all, Gen has told you a lot about the party that has joined your village, possibly too much really, over your many lunch breaks.

“That’s all! Let me know if you don’t like them and I can see if I can get help having them fixed. Deal?” 

Mirai nods her head emphatically, then gives you a quick hug before running out of the room, presumably to find Suika to hang out or find something else to do to fill the day. Tsukasa doesn’t leave immediately, and when you look towards him , he’s smiling, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Thank you. For being so kind to Mirai.”

Internally, you lament the fact that he makes you so anxious before mumbling the words “Of course.” It’s not a secret to him or to yourself or to anyone on the settlement at this point that Tsukasa ignites some kind of flight-or-flight response in you, and you feel no different from the gorgeous reporter that gravitates to him like a fly to a lit candle, in terms of allowing this man to make you act strangely without even trying. He’s attractive and calm and intelligent and when he looks at you, you have the sensation of being studied before being devoured, as though the question is not if he should swallow you whole, but how and when. 

And yet he’s undeniably kind and means you no harm or discomfort, unlike many of the men you’ve grown accustomed to in this burgeoning community. You clear your throat, forcing yourself to behave normally. 

“She’s so sweet, how could I not?” you try to be cheerful. He seems to like that response, humming to himself, but his next question catches you off guard.

“When did you have time to make the gifts?”

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, the idea of using your last night of insomnia to feverishly make gifts for his little sister will make you sound insane, so you come up with something else. 

“I needed to practice my crocheting skills so I worked on it here and there,” you offer. He looks at you and you find yourself grimacing, as though he can see through your lies even if he has no reason not to believe you. 

“I see,” is all he responds. Your heart thumps but he seems to be done tormenting you, uncrossing his arms. He turns and bows politely, and you find yourself doing the same, wishing that there was something to dispel your awkward behavior.

You must be not too kind but not too mean. Maintain a healthy distance. Deny the obvious attraction that puts your less-than-a-situationship not at ease, enough that he stomps and screams if you stand too close together.

“I hope to see you around,” he says, before making his way to the door. You can feel your pulse quicken. You steel yourself, and let out a deep exhale.

“Wait.”

Tsukasa stops, clearly with some surprise on his beautiful features, and you move quickly, rummaging through a cupboard to pull out another package, wrapped even more carefully than the one you gave Mirai.

The real reason you began to make Mirai’s gifts in the first place.

“I.. had something for you too.”

Tsukasa blinks as you thrust the package in his hands, then looks at you.

“Why?”

Your face grows hot.

“What do you mean why? It’s cold and I had extra fabric,”  you snap. He blinks twice, then nods, and to your mortification, he unwraps the present in front of you, tearing paper almost a bit too fast, and crumpling it in a large hand.

A pair of moccasins, carefully crafted, with not a single bit of fabric in common with Mirai’s gifts are now in his hands, and he inspects them carefully, then looks at you, and you find yourself needing to defend yourself.

“Listen, I’m sick of seeing you walk around barefoot all over the premises, in my lab, and I just thought I would be proactive and-”

Tsukasa chuckles to himself and you stop short. “Thank you,” he replies.

He slips into them right in front of you and you’re surprised at the exact fit. He grins.

“Are you satisfied?” He’s looking at you earnestly, like a kid on Christmas, and you can’t find a way not to crack a smile yourself. 

“Yes.”

Gen tells you too much of other people’s business, but one useful thing he did manage to tell you, is that Tsukasa’s birthday is in October, just weeks ago, and late is better than never.