#I stare at a writing document and I freeze

[bluedovee]

Feeling a lot of writers block so I doodle

[monster-disaster]

Hey, I hope you're doin' great! So... I just read that boss!orc x curvy!reader that you posted a while I go and I was thinking if you could write a part 2 for it? I'm not the one who asked for it but omggg it was so perfect. Thank you. 🥺♥️

orc!boss x human!curvy!Reader Good to know: original request, some lying and manipulation, but nothing angsty or bad, spice, spanking

He has to force himself to keep the growl buried deep within his broad chest. The rumble churns and bubbles in his throat, begging for release, but he swallows it down with a sharp breath before it can escape. His mouth twists into a wild snarl instead. His tusks, thick and prominent, dig into his upper lip. A deep wrinkle forms between his brows, furrowing so intensely it casts a shadow over his dark, piercing eyes as he stares at you through the darkened glass of his office wall.

You sit at your table, humming softly under your breath as your fingers glide over the keypad, pausing every now and then while your eyes flick between the screen and the document in your other hand. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, your long lashes, and the gentle gleam of your lipstick. You are wearing a sleek black piece that barely reaches the middle of your thighs. The soft fabric is snug against your curves, cupping your breasts into a delicious cleavage and hugging your wide hips just enough to make the orc's palms tingle to feel your flesh underneath his touch.

You always look beautiful in your dresses and skirts, but today, he knew something was different the moment he laid his eyes on you. You are glowing. You seem lighter, and more cheerful than usual. The way you move as you carry yourself, the brightness in your eyes, and your smile, everything about you is a touch more vibrant. More alive.

And he didn’t have to dig for long to discover the reason for it all.

His fingers curl into hard fists as the thought crosses his mind. A simmering heat flares up in his chest, twisting with something bitter and unspoken. It makes his jaw tighten and his pulse quicken.

You have a date tonight.

After the lesson on keeping your space tidy and the reward for doing so, he made the mistake of leaving things between you two as they were. He didn’t push forward. He let his head, his hesitancy, and the fear of what could go wrong win. And now, he's forced to face the consequences; you with another man. A snarl threatens to break free from his throat, but he swallows it down again. His frustration buzzes just beneath the surface. It makes his posture rigid and tense. No, the orc thinks, clenching his fists tighter. Not if it’s up to me. He can feel his resolve hardening with each passing second as he watches you glancing at the clock on your wrist with a giddy smile on your pretty lips. He had waited too long, but that was over now.

Reaching for the phone, he presses the button that connects straight to your desk. He watches you jump at the sudden noise, your head snapping up, but you answer immediately with your other hand still on your chest to calm down your rapid heartbeat.

"Hey, boss," you greet him. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember the file I sent you yesterday?"

"Yes."

"I need them for tomorrow." Even though his jaw is tight and tense, the lie slips out smoothly between his rigid lips.

He sees you freeze in your seat. "What? You said it could wait until next week."

"I got the date wrong," the orc says almost apologetically, his voice deliberately innocent. "Why? Is that a problem?"

"Well... I won’t finish them without putting in extra hours," you admit. Your voice is softer now, hesitant as you click away on your computer, scanning through the files he sent.

"And what's the problem with that?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are locked on your figure the whole time.

"I... I already have a program for tonight," you respond, uncertainty lacing your words. "Are you sure it can't wait until tomorrow?" You glance at his way, but the man knows you can't see him through the dark fog of the glass.

"Are you sure you can't postpone your plans?" His voice is calm, too calm. Even though he phrased it like a question, both of you know there is only one acceptable answer.

"Yeah," you sigh in a reluctant surrender. "I can, boss."

"Great."

His satisfaction doesn't last long, though. His triumph fades as the hours drag on while he watches you from his office. Each glance at your hunched form tightens the knot in his chest. Your shoulders sag as you tirelessly type away on the keypad. Guilt gnaws at him, sharp and persistent, and no matter how much he tries to focus on his own tasks, he can't shake it off. The smile he had envied earlier has vanished from your face, replaced by a strained focus. Your pretty, shiny lips now are in a pout. The glow he had been so jealous of is nowhere to be seen. He wanted you to cancel your plans, but now that he has you all to himself, he feels like an asshole.

The thought of letting you go crosses his mind several times throughout the day, but every time he reaches for the phone, his hand hesitates above the button. Each time, he pulls back, unable to go through with it. Despite his inner battle, the thought of you going out with another man burns much hotter in his chest than the guilt that nags at him. He can't make himself let you go.

So he does nothing, and before he knows it, it’s just you and him left in the building, along with the security guard downstairs. The lamps have been turned off, leaving only his office and your desk bathed in a dim glow. The city outside sparkles with lights and neon signs. The apartments' yellow hues spill through the windows onto the busy streets and bustling roads.

The orc remains at his desk. His fingers hover above the keyboard, dancing in idle patterns without actually pressing any buttons. The bluish light from the screen illuminates the slightly curved line of his nose, the fullness of his lips, and the hard edge of his jawline. He tries to focus on the chart in front of him, his gaze fixed on the shifting data, but his thoughts are far away. They are tangled in the images of you and what he did.

"Boss?"

For a long moment, the orc just blinks at you from his desk as you stand in the doorway. The shine of your lips has faded, and you look weary, worn down by the long hours. His heart clenches with guilt once again at the sight. A sharp pang of remorse cuts through him. He should have approached this differently. He should have been honest and asked you out directly instead of pushing you into working on something he didn't even need.

"Yes?" he finally manages to ask, his voice rougher than he intended.

"I'm done."

The orc’s surprise is barely contained. He hadn't truly expected you to finish it. He almost grimaces at the thought of how much you had to hurry with it.

"Thank you, Y/N," he hums. "I’m sorry you had to cancel your... program." The mention of it leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

You shrug, allowing a small but tired smile to curve your lips. "It's fine. I can go tomorrow."

The orc's jaw tightens. Being an adult, he scoffs to himself. That option is clearly out of the window now.

"Do you want to sit?" he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him. "Something to drink?" He adds, already rising from his seat to retrieve two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. "You deserve it."

You sigh with a nod, heading to the chair. "Thank you."

After handing you one of the glasses, the orc doesn’t return to his usual spot at the desk. Instead, he sits down beside you, legs spread wide. He takes a long gulp of his drink. The amber liquid burns down his throat. He watches you from the corner of his eye, noting how tired but oddly relaxed you look. Your legs are crossed, causing your skirt to ride up slightly on your plush thighs.

"So," he clears his throat, attempting to break the silence. "What was your plan for the evening, anyway?"

A long moment of silence stretches between you, and when he finally glances over, he sees a small, mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"What?" he asks.

"Don't act like you don't know what my plan was."

The orc feels himself freeze, his mind racing. "What?"

"I know you heard me when I talked about it with my friend."

"Y/N..." he starts, the words faltering on his tongue. He feels like he is in trouble, yet, your mischievous grin tells him otherwise.

"Do you want to know something?" you ask, leaning in slightly.

He nods, still not finding his voice.

"I lied," you say, barely containing a laugh as you watch his bewildered expression.

"Lied about what?" His frown deepens into a scowl.

"I lied about the date," you reveal. The curve of your lips widens, and your eyes sparkle with satisfaction and pride. "There was no date."

The orc’s confusion turns into a stunned silence. "No date?"

"No," you confirm with a grin. "I wanted to see if you cared enough to do something about it."

The orc's mouth opens and closes, but he is too shocked to say anything. You lied. You lied to see if you could make him jealous enough to do something.

You little minx.

Before he can gather his thoughts, a loud, surprised gasp escapes his lips as you stand up and settle onto one of his thighs, facing him. The black fabric of your dress stretches tightly around your legs where they drape over his. Your heat presses down against his trousers as you let your weight rest fully on him.

"Did it work?" you ask, nibbling on your lower lip. The only sign of your nervousness is the slight tremble in your hands as you play with the buttons of his shirt near his belt. You're clearly stepping out of your comfort zone, risking everything just because he couldn't muster the courage to take the lead.

His hands rest on yours for a moment, squeezing your delicate fingers as a reassuring gesture before moving up to your bare thighs. His touch is lingering and exploring. You feel soft and yielding beneath his fingers, and he can’t help but note the contrast between his firm grip and your pliant warmth.

"Did you lie to me, little one?" His voice rumbles deeply, sending a shiver up your spine.

You bite down on your lower lip, the soft flesh already swollen and tender. "Will you punish me for it?"

The orc growls low in his throat, squeezing your hips one time before hauling you up from his lap. The sudden movement punches a loud squeal out of your chest, and before you know it, you are on his table, knocking off his things onto the ground.

“Stay like that,” he growls, pressing one hand firmly in the middle of your back. Your upper body is now pressed down against the wooden surface of his desk, while your bottom is positioned toward him. The black skirt you wear rides up, revealing the lush curve of your ass and the thin fabric of your underwear.

“You lied to me,” he says, his voice heavy with frustration. “I could barely concentrate on my work because the thought of you with another man drove me mad.”

“I’m sorry,” you croak out, but you sound anything but sorry.

“You manipulated me, little one,” he continues, his anger tinged with a hint of a smile. “And now I have to punish you.”

With deliberate movements, the orc pushes your skirt higher, exposing your round ass and the thin black thong wedged between your cheeks. His cock twitches at the delicious sight.

“Ah!” you cry out when his large palm lands on your exposed skin with a loud smack.

“Now tell me,” he hums, his fingers gripping the warm, flushed skin, “was it worth it?”

“Yes,” you reply immediately, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. Despite the sting, there’s a spark of satisfaction in your voice. This was your goal all along. And more.

“So there’s no other man?” he asks, his voice rough and demanding as his hand lands on your ass with a series of loud, stinging slaps that make your whole body shudder.

“No,” you cry out.

“No one who wants to see your pretty little ass like this?” His hand comes down again with a sharp smack.

“I don’t care about anyone else." Your voice strained as you lie on the table. Your fingers clench into tight fists at the burning heat on your ass.

“Good answer,” the orc snarls, his hand moving relentlessly. Each slap makes your round bottom flush warm under his touch.

The zipper of his pants presses uncomfortably against his throbbing erection, a constant reminder of the raw, urgent desire he’s struggling to contain, but he knows that if he releases himself, there will be no turning back. He would need to be inside you immediately.

And he has too much fun now to end it so quickly.

The office is filled with the sounds of your panting and ragged moans as you squirm on the desk, desperately trying to rub your thick thighs together for some friction, but the orc quickly intervenes, pushing his leg between yours with a disapproving tsk of his tongue.

"I don’t think you’ve earned it yet," he says. His chest expands at the sounds of your pathetic whines.

"Please." Your plea trembles with need.

The orc grins, pressing his own thigh against your panty-clad cunt, teasing you without offering any real relief.

"Don’t you think you deserve your punishment?" he hums, his tone laced with amusement.

"I do," you reply in a whine, resting your forehead on the cool surface of his desk while he continues to knead your warm, sensitive skin.

"Good girl," he says approvingly, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your black thong. "I will give you pleasure when I think you earned it."

His name is barely out of your mouth when a loud gasp escapes your lips the moment the orc’s hand pulls at your panties, pressing the black fabric deeper between your flushed cheeks. The material slips between your damp folds, soaking up your wetness.

“Fuck, little one,” the orc groans at the sight of your panties almost disappearing into your fat pussy. “I would never let any man see this,” he says with a fierce possessiveness. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this sends a surge of burning anger through his veins. “It’s just for me.”

You remain silent, which earns you another sharp slap on your ass from the orc. You gasp and moan. The combined sensation of the burning sting on your ass and the thong rubbing against your pussy creates a heady mix of pleasure and pain that makes your hips grind instinctively.

“I want your answer,” he demands firmly as he lets go of your panties. His fingers slip between your ass, slipping down and finding the wet heat between your thighs. He teases you, making you shiver as you burn under his fingertips.

"Yes," you cry. "It's just for you! It's just for you!"

"That's what I like to hear," he hums, his fingers digging deeper between your swollen, sensitive lips. Your panties are ruined, the crotch is clinging soaked to your puffy cunt.

He can't wait to taste you, to feel your soft walls around his cock as he pounds into you until you see stars and know nothing but his name.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he says, his patience thinning with each passing second. “You’ll spend the night at my place, and if you’re a good girl while I feed you, I’ll take you to bed and fuck you on every surface in my house.”

“Yesyesyes,” you sob. You tremble with desperation. “Please.”

“Come on, then,” he groans, pressing his hard cock against your pussy one last time before helping you off the desk and smoothing your skirt back into place. “Let me take you home, little one.”

[thehighladywrites]

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

[chateaaa]

You know how to ball, i know aristotle.

pairing: Isagi Yoichi x fem! reader

warnings: FLUFFFFFF

— series here

The student council room door suddenly opened, a person then shouted "N/n!! you gotta watch the soccer match playing right now! get your ass up and stop writing those documents!" your best friend, (f/n), called out, also known as the student council's secretary.

"(f/n) be quiet, i need to finalize this paper before tuesday" you said.

As the student council president, you had to manage your time perfectly, you were the honor student and the class valedictorian, and more importantly the school's student council president.

"Oh come on n/n! it'll be fun! oh and didn't you say you need to check the field if it's clean? don't you do that monthly? now's the perfect time!" your friend argued.

you sighed and got up and said "Ok fine, i got it, but were just going there to check the field, not watch the game"

(f/n) then playfully saluted "Aye Aye Captain!"

As you both went to the field, you both saw the game coming to an end, the score was 4-4 and the ball was on player 11, Isagi Yoichi, who had just gotten the ball from his best friend, Bachira.

Isagi looked at you for a split second, and that second was all it took for you to fall inlove.

Butterflies entered your stomach with that eye contact, you watched captivatingly while Isagi was dominating the field.

As Isagi looked away, his eyes full of determination, the ball on his dominant leg, he scored the goal.

As soon as he scored the goal, the match ended with your school winning. You ran away and you blushed and whispered "Isagi..."

timeskip*

As you were walking to class, you suddenly bumped into someone's shoulder, and as you looked up, you saw the one and only mvp of the match, Isagi Yoichi.

You both looked at each other with an awkward expression, you broke the silence by saying "Congratulations, Isagi-san."

He nodded and smiled sheepishly and said "Thank you so much L/n-san, now, ladies first?"

Isagi asked as he opened the door for you, who wouldve thought that the world was so small, your silly little puppy crush is actually your classmate in english class.

As you both went in, the bell rang and the teacher explained an assignment worth 40% of your grade was to be done by pairs.

Isagi pov

'I can sense it! the goal is near, i just need a pass from bachira!'

Isagi looked at Bachira for a split second, and he saw in the corner of his eye... his crush.

Y/n L/n

The girl who was strict yet so gentle, watching him play.

'She's watching me!'

He looked away and finally he scored.

As his teammates ran up to him, he was trying to hide his blush, he then looked in your direction and saw you running away.

As Isagi was walking to class, he saw you. His lovely crush.

You both stared at each other, Isagi freezing and overthinking if he smelled bad.

As you spoke, a small blush appeared on his cheeks. Your voice sounded so lovely congratulating him.

As he opened the door for you, he felt like a gentleman he was thanking his mom for teaching him how to be one

Isagi sat down, he realized that you were only a few seats away from him so it was easy to steal a glance from you.

He was staring lovingly, who would have thought that the star of the game has a crush on the student council president. He wasn't even listening to the teacher at this point!

"Isagi and L/n" the teacher called out.

He was snapped from his daydream and looked in your direction.

Class dismissed and you were partnered up with your small crush.

As you were walking away with your phone in your hand, Isagi tapped on your shoulder and asked "Hey wanna do the project at a cafe near the school tomorrow?"

"Sure" you replied, "Can i have your number, I need it to send you some reference we can use"

Isagi then typed his number in your phone and wrote his name 'Yoichi 🤍'

You looked up and asked "What's with the nickname?"

"Oh, i was wondering if you can call me that! with no honorifics and anything, i would like to be your friend, L/n-san" he said

You grinned and replied "Sure, you can also call me Y/n. See you tomorrow Yoichi."

You waved goodbye and walked away, clearly leaving Isagi blushing in front of the school.

*the next day

You got at the designated time 30 minutes before you both met, so you decided to order a small coffee. 1 hour later, it was evident that Isagi was late. As you were waiting for Isagi in the cafe, you were mindlessly scrolling in your phone and then a notification from Isagi appeared

"Y/n-san! i might be late, i'm so sorry i missed the bus ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ"

"It's fine Yoichi"

"I'm almost near, wait for me mkay? (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)"

You closed your phone and saw a figure running towards you, holding a paper bag.

It was Isagi.

Isagi was running towards you, as he reached your seat, he bowed.

Damn. you blushed at the sight of his sweat beads rolling down, with him wiping it while he breathed hard.

"I'm so sorry for being late Y/n-san!, i bought your favorite pastry and i didn't realize i was late already" said Isagi.

You were shocked, Isagi was late because of you?

"N-no problem" you replied as you were trying to gain composure

Isagi sat down and opened his laptop to start on the project, as he opened his laptop, he remembered something.

He took something from his bag and gave it to you.

"By the way Y/n-san, i got you these Semi finals ticket, i was hoping you can attend and watch me play" Isagi said, his voice becoming a whisper at the end as he held the ticket between both his hands, reaching to you.

Your eyes softened and said "Sure, thank you for giving me this ticket".

Isagi smiled, as you both continued the project.

Months past and you and Isagi has became an unseperable duo.

"Isagi Yoichi scores a goal!! that's it folks, we have team blue lock as this year's championship!" the commentator shouted.

Isagi breathed heavily as he searched for your eyes in the crowd.

He finally saw you, gleaming with joy, waving.

He waved back and soon went to his team to rejoice the win.

After being with his team, Isagi went straight to you, in the benches.

He crushed you in a bonecrushing hug, and then whispered.

"Will you let me be your boyfriend?"

Your eyes widened in shock, and smiled softly as you said "Yes!"

Isagi took your arm as you both went home, he was smiling shyly till he was at your front door.

"Y/n, heres the tickets for the finals, they arent selling it yet, but we were given 1 VIP ticket to anyone" Isagi said as he handed you a ticket.

"Well, i guess this is goodbye, once again, i really really reallyyy like you!" Isagi exclaimed.

You smiled at his sillyness and went near him, you almost kissed his cheek not until— your mom came out.

"Mom?!" you exclaimed as you tried to hide your blush.

"Oh, Y/n welcome back home, who is that handsome young boy beside you" asked your mom.

You took a deep breath and said "Mom, this is Isagi Yoichi, my boyfriend"

Your mom smiled softly and smiled.

"N/n? where are you? the game is starting in a few minutes!" said isagi while calling you.

"Sorry Yoi, i woke up late! don't worry, i'm near the gate, wait for m—" you were cutted off as you bumped into someone.

That person spilled coffee over your shirt, ruining your top.

"Watch where you're going!" exclaimed the middle aged man you just bumped.

You quickly muttered an apology, even if you were the person who had spilled coffee on their top, tears prickled your eyes because you were late for Yoichi's game.

You rolled your eyes over him and ran towards the gate.

You then saw Isagi waiting for you outside.

"Yoichi? what are you doing here?" you exclaimed, the game was already starting yet.. why was he waiting for you?

"I waited for you" he said.

You then realized that Isagi didn't join the first half of the game even if he was the ace, because he was waiting for you.

Isagi noticed your top being ruined, and said "Did something happen?"

"Some man spilled his coffee on me, but i don't have an extra shirt" you emberassly looked away.

Isagi had a bright idea and took your hand and led you to the locker room, he told you to wait outside and gave you his spare jersey. With his last name engraved on it, with your birthday as his number.

You used it and then went inside the arena, Isagi quickly saying goodbye because it was his time in the court.

The game was like deja vu, it was neck to neck, but the ball was on Isagi.

The time was only 10 seconds left, as you saw Isagi feeling nervous, you shouted "GO YOICHI!!! YOU CAN DO IT!"

His eyes softened and looked determined, ego filling his brain as he shouted the ball with only 2 seconds left.

The crowd cheered, but Isagi ran over towards you.

He crushed you to a hug and then kissed you passionately.

@ your.username

@ your.username Where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me.

this was so long oml

[solemnvelvetangel]

"Come To Bed" - Ango Sakaguchi

Notes:

July 10th, 2024

Word Count: 979

GN! Reader

Content Warning: None.

Not enough fics for him, to be honest...

___

Saying that Ango Sakaguchi is a hard worker is an understatement. His work is his everything, consuming his days and haunting his sleepless nights. He will spend hours hunched over his desk looking through documents, responding to emails, taking phone calls, everything a good government worker should do. He was a model worker, at the price of being a neglectful lover, that is.

You tossed and turned in your sheets, the fact that there was so much room felt… wrong. You wished that you were being smothered, that your lover would just come to bed and invade your space so you could feel a lot less lonely at night. You groaned and sat up, lowering your head into your hands. You’re not sure how much of this you can take. You were tired of sleeping alone, of waking up to no one there to wish you good morning. You knew his work was important, but…

You let your feelings win this time. You sighed, before kicking the blankets off of your body and climbing out of bed. You grabbed your robe and shrugged it lazily onto your shoulders and slipped your feet into your slippers before making your way to his office in your shared apartment. The door to his office is wide open, the light from his desk lamp dimly creeping into the hallway. You walked up to the door frame and watched as Ango typed away at his laptop. Just as you suspected.

He kept switching between typing and reading over physical documents that he had on his desk. He was so focused, that he hadn’t even heard your footsteps approach his office. He really was in his zone. Even though he was busy, you couldn’t stop yourself from slowly approaching him from behind. You lift your hands and place them gently onto his shoulders, the sudden contact making him freeze and his typing come to a halt.

“... Why are you awake at this hour?” Ango asks, his voice a bit rigid. He didn’t sound angry or annoyed that you had walked into his office unannounced, he sounded… tired.

“Waiting for you.” You replied, wrapping your arms around him and lowering your chin onto his shoulder. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, and the feeling of the shape of his shoulders flooded your senses for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

“You don’t have to do that,” He said, resuming his typing once he relaxed into your embrace. “You should go rest, it’s two in the morning.”

“I could say the same to you.” You said softly, holding him a little tighter. “Come to bed with me…” Your voice sent shivers running down his spine. His heart ached for your touch, for your body to be nestled between his arms as the sound of your breathing lulled him into a calm sleep. God, he wanted that so badly. He craved it.

“I have to finish this report, you know it’s important.” He said, pushing the thought away. No, he can’t get ahead of himself. He needs to finish this project. The sooner he can finish, the sooner he can be totally yours. He turned his head to see your expression, your gaze had fallen to the floor and your mouth was bent into a small frown.

“Okay…” You responded in a quiet voice. “Good night, Ango.” You gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before pulling away. His body suddenly felt cold as you exited his office. He stared at the empty door frame for a few moments before sighing and turning back to his laptop.

Instead of getting back to work like he anticipated, he sat there for five minutes just staring at what he wrote. Not reading. Just staring. His eyes were getting heavy with sleep, and all of his limbs were sore. He groaned before putting his head in his hands, cursing himself. Why can’t he focus? Why can’t he just get it all done and over with? Why did he have to stay up all night, writing a report that he could care less about?

Come to bed with me…

Those words rung in his head, silencing all other thoughts. Maybe, just this once… he’ll let his heart win over his head.

Screw it… He thought as he shut his lap top and got up from his chair. He turned off the lamp in his office and headed towards the bedroom. He lingered in the door frame, seeing you sitting up in the bed, still awake. It took you a moment to realize he was standing there. There was a long moment of silence before you held out your arms, leaving them open for him.

“Come here…” You said, and he couldn’t say no. He climbed onto the bed and into your arms, your back pressed against the mattress as he rested his head onto your chest. The sound of your heartbeat filled his ears, making him feel calm and warm as his arms wrapped around you.

“What about your report?” You asked as one of your hands smoothed down his hair.

“I can finish it tomorrow…” He replied quietly. “Right now, I just want to be in your arms.” His eyes began to feel heavier and heavier as he melted into the embrace. To him, this was heaven.

“Alright,” You said, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Good night…” He didn’t respond back, you looked down at him to see that he had already dozed off. He probably hadn’t gotten proper sleep in a long, long time. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you laid your head back on the pillow, content that he was in your arms instead of sleeping alone for another night. He was here. With you. And that was enough to make you feel at peace.

[subwaytostardew]

▽ Subway to Stardew - Emmet 8-Heart Event ▽

This plays after getting at least 8 hearts with Emmet and entering the Railroad between 9AM - 4PM on a Thursday after viewing his 7 heart event.

You recieve this letter when you reach 8 hearts with Emmet!

Commentary and progress under the readmore.

▷ Station Steward Thylak

I DID NOT REALIZE THAT THIS EVENT WOULD BE THAT LONG... I could have sworn it was around 14 minutes max! I was worried that the battle stuff went by too quickly! It's almost 30 minutes long! And that's with me clicking away faster! Emmet really meant it when he said he wanted to spend all the livelong day together...

I thought it was going to be roughly 18 minutes. NOPE. WOOPS. This what happens when you write possibly too much.

We are bad at making short events. Vanilla events are around 1-3 minutes long. A day in Stardew lasts 14 minutes and 10 seconds. I would not recommend trying to play this mod spoiler free on multiplayer because time does not freeze and you will die if you don't skip the events. I wouldn't want to shorten the events either... Cutting down their infodumps would just be wrong.

We had a few requests to have a battle event which made me 😅 because I personally couldn't imagine that going well (truth over ideals...). This event was partially made to shut that idea down. The whole tunnel scene is mostly me trying to write an in-story reason as to why there won't be a battle with the farmer against Ingo... Emmet is competitive! This is not just limited to battles but extends to being your best friend! Behind the scenes... I'm just too tired to write out more battles. I actually really dislike single battle format. I'm not making an Ingo battle event. You already have three games to battle him in. I refuse to make more battle events for the time being.

I say that but there's another half-finished double battle event between submas that I switched tracks from to work on Emmet's 8 heart event... I'll finish that eventually.

Anyways... the creation process did not go by quickly at all either. I sure do have a lot to say on that matter. I do all my coding in google docs (terrible, I know) and so far we have had to make 3 seperate documents becuase things start to break at around 40 pages. The document before Emmet's 8 heart event made it to 64 pages before I abandoned it for a new document.

The longest document we have is around 80 pages along. Which usually contain the draft scripts of multiple events. code documents however take up a lot more since it's basically a giant wall of text. So when Emmet's 8 heart event started to slow down the current code document (the third iteration). We had to give the event its own space.

Emmet's 8 heart event ended up being 36 pages long alone! Also if you didn't know, Stardew's event format doesn't allow for line breaks so I have been staring at a 36 page wall of text for weeks. I plan to upload a video compiling all the different options later because I feel like all of the "good" options for battle... don't quite make sense in the context of the rest of the story. The farmer is supposed to not be good at battle and lose because they got overwhelmed with information. As the one writing out all the battle options though, I can't bring myself to act like I'm bad at battling. The winning options are extra silly just to justify a loss and because I couldn't bring myself to lie about Wild Charge not being a guaranteed OHKO on Archeops either. Especially since Emmet brings out damage calculations in a few of the options.

On that topic, all of the battle options play out accurately in a real double battle! I tested. Every. Single. Path. In Pokemon Showdown between the halves of Emmet's team.

I had nightmares of reliving this same battle over and over because that's all I did when I was awake. Make it stopppppp 😭

The lines about them practicing were references to me actually simulating everything in Showdown! Emmet's frustration is also based on how making this event took over my brain so now I struggle to comprehend how someone who doesn't know what to do in this battle would feel... Thank you Kade for helping me with that part ^^;;;

Your welcome =3

I actually enjoyed the Pokémon Showdown part - when it comes to Pokémon Battles, I have dabbled a little bit into the competitive side of things. Or at least the massive game of 4D Chess... trying to predict your opponent etc. Bait them into making a mistake, etc. There was a good time where we did nothing but Pokémon Battles for a night. And it was fun.

I am in no way good at competitive side of things - (I lose lot but that's okay.) especially in the double battle format. Single Battles I could do. (Though once again, I'm average at best) However I think the most memorable battle I ever had was back in Pokémon X and Y, where I managed to chip away and stall a Mega Aggron with a Umbreon.. And I think Umbreon was my last Pokémon but I kept using Moonlight to keep my health up. My kid self was super surprised and ecstatic that I beaten the odds... but whenever I do Pokémon Showdown I'm either testing battle stuff or making teams. I'm addicted to team compositions and doing a combination of different Pokémon even if it's not the competitive Meta....

I have the choices sorted into good/bad routes in my mind so in most of the routes, Emmet criticizes the player's decisions based on type advantage, STAB, and target. I was torn between the best and worst options for this recording but thanks to Kade's input, you get to see Durant ramming into Emmet instead of him getting mad at you for conducting Shadow Claw on Galvantula.

Battling Emmet as a first time trainer is not going to go well! Not only is he too competitive and he refuses to let you win (unlike Ingo), he pretty much sets you up for failiure. I'm sorry Emmet but Galvantula's stats are not intended for making her a physical attacker (emphasis on the Egg Move at what cost...).

Not to mention... Emmet is a Battle Facility Head. And you don't get to battle the Subway Bosses in the mainline games unless you have a somewhat decent team halfway through the game. Even still! They can both wipe the floor with you if you're not aware that they are using battle items...

Though I interpret Emmet not going easy on someone as him challenging them to push themselves and exceed expectations. Both Ingo and Emmet as characters encourage others in their own way, Ingo through words and Emmet I believe through his actions. Though he also can say some encouraging things.

Not the most encouraging if you compare their quotes pages... Customer service and communication isn't exactly his forte... But Emmet wants you to do your best and win against him! He likes seeing serious battlers like him! He just won't let you win unless if you push yourself to do your best. You'll have to. He doesn't really have the most beginner-friendly approach...

Considering you the Farmer, have no idea what a Pokémon even is. (You're practically learning everything from Ingo, Emmet, Elesa etc.) The fact you get challenged to a Battle because Emmet wants to share his interests with you - to have you better understand Pokémon.

He just struggles with the fact that, he is essentially challenging someone with no real battle experience and it's a Double Battle at that. Controlling two Pokémon at once?! Think about the effort it takes to command one Pokémon. We all seen the Anime and how trainers struggle to connect with their partners because they're new. They're just starting. They aren't going to be Battle Facility levels of skill.

Not to mention that Emmet is a little deprived in the valley and hasn't really battled any other new passengers in quite some time. At most, he battled Iris once when she came to visit, Ingo (who's Pokemon are optimized for countering/pissing him off), and himself (I had the mental image of him sitting in the field practicing for this event like an old man playing chess against himself in a park). He's a little too far gone to fully understand what a beginner would think in this situation other than mayyyybe it would take a moment to catch them up to speed. (I would know... I swear those option paths rewired my brain...)

After inputting all of their data into Showdown, I had actually forgotten that Galvantula and Durant are Emmet's Doubles Line team while Eelektross and Archeops are the Super Doubles Line team when deciding the matchups. (Been a while since they were in the Battle Subway huh...) Story-wise, I was thinking that Emmet should be with his ace and that he wouldn't really trust anyone else with Archeops since... he has higher support needs (depression bird 💔). Eelektross and Archeops are paired up because of Gastro Acid and Defeatist. I was thinking that Galvantula and Durant are a bit more beginner-friendly; they can take a loss a bit more easilly (a little less so in Galvantula's case... she's a hater). The farmer had already met Durant earlier in the 4-heart event so he'd volunteer to return the favor of fighting for you. Once you win his trust, he's more than happy to help. As for Galvantula... She's testing to see if she can trust her clingy child with you.

I'm excited to dive into the Pokémon NPC stories... Durant and Excadrill especially.

Durant was originally going to have Choice Scarf instead of Quick Claw to help narrow down the options. It was a pain reorganizing my notes and options all over again to lump not only move choices but turn order in mind. My notes were a mess.

Durant and Galvantula are a very luck-based combination so it was ultimately easier to write the different option paths with that in mind since Stardew's event format is verrrrrrrrrrrry linear. All of the options need to merge back into the same event (well... besides the option to refuse his friendship/battle which ends the event in the tunnel). Durant has lowered accuracy while Galvantula has higher critical hit ratios, I could write the battles based on their luck which is great because I wanted to force a loss.

I thought it would be a little too... reductive (it sure would reduce the amount of content >.>) and unrealistic for the player to impress Emmet with a victory on their first battle. Emmet sees this battle as a test on if you can follow his train of thought and be a good match for him because he's a little bit dependent on you for emotional regulation. He kind of expects you as his favorite passenger to have twin telepathy like Ingo since that's his standard operating procedure. You won't. Because you're not Ingo. You're just some weird farmer he got attached to. With the setup of a battle, I wanted this event to develop the farmer and Emmet's relationship to show that they aren't exactly perfect for each other (and Will say things that can be wrongly misinterpreted) but ultimately they will put in the effort to communicate and make things work. They won't have the best communication! But it's there.

While Ingo has a proper library confession, this event doubles as Emmet's "confession" of sorts. Emmet is already pretty openly affectionate by this point and I wanted to make it somewhat ambiguous as to whether or not his attachment to you is romantic or strictly platonic. To him, it doesn't really matter, but he does want you all to himself. He's not fond of sharing!

But... While Emmet's event may be more platonic in intent, you can still reject him. It's a lot harsher than Ingo's because refusing to even let him try to be a better friend for you is pretty harsh in itself. Ingo's is mostly the choice of whether or not you want to send him back to 6 hearts for more dialogue variety (it's really easy to miss dialogue when you try to max out their hearts as soon as possible! We're making lines for every day, season, and heart level.) Rejecting Emmet sends you back to 2 hearts and overrides his daily dialogue for the day with him asking if you're still friends, apologizing, and then getting too upset to say anything more.

Anyways!

From the start, I wanted Emmet to be like Nemona; awkward in their attachment, somewhat intimidating in their obsession/competitiveness, and thinks of the player as their savior from loneliness. He wants to be the best friend you have because you're the best friend he has. It's only fair. Best rival for life, favorite passenger, same thing.

The mountain pass events were actually made because Emmet's original schedule included him waiting around near the bushes there like Nemona stalking the player on their gym journey. NPCs actually can't path there so when he did, he was just deleted from the save!

I also stumbled across a bug back when I made the very first introduction event where a question loops unless if you pick a certain option. I kept that with Emmet forcing you to keep battling with him in mind as a slight reference to how Nemona doesn't let you say no to being her "best rival for life". This question also makes SMAPI hate you!

Gotta love Pokémon's false sense of 'Sure you have a choice. Your choice is always YES.'

There's probably a more fitting flower for Emmet outside of poppies. I just looked up every flower in Stardew (some of them aren't real...) and their meanings in flower language to come to the conclusion of poppies. The meanings in Emmet's event refer to the white poppy in particular. White. Rest. Oblivion. It fits. Good enough. It was a bit difficult to find more on the flower language of poppies in English (particularly the "Oblivion" part) so I resorted to Japanese sites for more information.

In English, the meaning of "Rest" seems to precede every other meaning. Poppies are used in death memorials. Emmet and the farmer did accidentally develop a shared theme of dying (overwork exhaustion, slimes, the mines, etc... Emmet can't get a break. I'm sorry.) but I wasn't sure if Kade was okay with the theme of death being emphasized. With that in mind, I was stunned when I that saw that her first battle map draft included a graveyard. The implication that Emmet picked flowers from a memorial site...

In my mind - the area is an old train stop in between the desert area and the forest/mountains that lead into Pelican Town. Also figured there would be an abandon farm - considering how Pelican Town is struggling it makes sense that potentially other places are not in best of shape either.

The graveyard is possibly dead relatives of whatever family or farmer made their life near the rails. Of course a lot of time has passed... So much so that nature has taken back what was theirs in the first place.

I always make up stories when having a location in mind and this area parallels with the tunnel Ingo takes you through to stargaze around 10 hearts. That area being an abandon coal mining operation.... Coal, Wood, etc. was used to powered steam trains so makes sense for there to be a source for it. I'm not the best when it comes to filling up Tiled Maps with decor - but I at least put down enough for Thylak to come in and make it more fitting for Stardew

The battlefield underwent quite a few revisions, one was having the battle area be more centered, and changing the old warehouse/worker area to be more like a train repair station with a water stop. I wanted it to feel like a place where Emmet goes to keep himself busy when he's told to take a break from working on the station.

Here's the final map! The battle area had to be shrunken down to fit in an event. More grass was added because I kept losing track of Joltik in the dirt. There's more flowers for Emmet to observe the quality of and pick tge best ones as gifts that he's too nervous to give the farmer until they wilt and dry. Poppies by the gravestones, of course!

I also did attempt to make a proper scrapbook sprite for when I eventually have Emmet give you his gift, but I never got around to implementing it properly since... I'm not familliar with adding custom items and its implementation changes in the 1.6 update.

Despite having access to the modding alpha, I've been procrastinating on migrating to 1.6 since HD Portraits isn't supported yet (I know... 1.6 releases in 3 weeks...).

WOO 1.6 WE ARE NO WHERE NEAR READY FOR ALL THE STUFF THAT POSSIBLY GOING TO BREAK. LOL.

Until next time! Thank you for reading!

[marwhoa]

request: none! (well technically so, technically not!)

🝮 little drabbles !

tmnt x readers; usually rottmnt

author’s note: hi! I haven’t been givin y’all anything lately, and me and my bestie *cough @tmntxthings cough* have a shared document for little writes and ideas we randomly have! Figured I’d give y’all some as an apology for my heavy lack of new writing :))) Also fair warning, my Drabble writing is very “bare bones” kind of ideas :)) not usually as descriptive as my published fics.

word count: I don’t feel like it :))

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Mermaid!Y/N

Mikey secretly sneaks off at night to be by the water, listening to it and watching its waves crash against the dock he sat upon. Legs kicked, disturbing the water’s surface.

He notices something disturb the waves with a splash, one that gave the oddest feeling that it wouldn’t have been a little fish. It stirs his curiosity—not enough to dare a dip into the water, though. He can’t swim, so why would he do something so foolish?—but my do his eyes search the inky abyss for it’s disruption. This night lends to no answers and neither does the next.

Imagine his amazement one day, finding the suspicious splash reoccur each time he visits the dock, but this particular day, he sees something—someone?—gazing at him with wondrous eyes and a friendly smile. It was a shine like that of a child discovering something amazing.

Bonus idea:

Mikey and his brothers are fighting villain by the docks. He gets knocked off and at first, they’re like “!! Mikey! Ah, he’ll come back up, we need to keep going” and then Donnie freezes and is like “… He’s a box turtle.” And they’re like what? “He’s a box turtle—They-They don’t SWIM, THEY DON’T SWIM, MIKEY—“

They turn towards the water, ready to leap in, when suddenly Mikey comes up and they’re like “??!?!? How?!”

Pushing him up are the frantic arms of a mermaid. All brothers are speechless, Mikey’s unconscious. Y/N stares at them then gestures frantically to the passed-out brother, trying to tell them, “ help him! give him air! do it, land creatures! “

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N

(apocalypse angst, tw for detail)

Donnie was holding Y/N’s lifeless body in their arms, screaming at them in misdirected frustration, “WHY WERE YOU EVEN HERE, YOU NEVER BELONGED IN THE BATTLEFIELD! I TOLD YOU TO ST… TO STAY… “ He chocked on the heavy sobs and screams, wiping at his running nose, and spiraling downwards until all he could do is hold your body so tight. His screams are heard for as far as possible, compromising his position to the enemy, but there was nothing that could stop his wails.

Surrounding him are alerted Kraang monsters. Whirring, cawing, screeching—all painfully obvious signs that he’s unsafe, that he should be getting away, escaping—tucking tail and running!

And yet he doesn’t stop screaming at you, wiping hair out of your face roughly. “Open your eyes—open your GOD DAMN EYES, Y/N, PLEASE.” An alien appendage stabs through the flesh of his shoulder, jerking him forward and then back—away from you—as it violently shlunks out of the wound, but he couldn’t care less. His voice raises, cracking under the pressure as he yanks away and scrambles back to what was once you. He begs you to wake up, to please please just get up, you guys needed to get out of here!

Over and over again, he begs.

And he begs.

And he begs.

Begs until it’s the last thing he can say before blood fills his mouth and the last bit of life is drained out.

“ Please… “

His voice is weak, far from the strength you ever knew it had.

“ I’… “

“ I’m sorry, ju… just o… p… ”

“ open… your eyes… “

There’s just something about that inconsolable sadness, where they hold the body of someone once so full of love, begging in frustration that they please, PLEASE come back.

The choked sobs, the heavy wails, the desperation to hold them no matter the danger.

Trying their hardest to never let them out of their grasp as if that somehow symbolized facing the truth in its entirety, the truth that you were gone.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N

(apocalypse angst again)

Donnie’s in his lab. It’s the apocalypse. He’s tinkering away on his gear, when one of his devices dings, indicating a video has been sent. This happens whenever his tech breaks, turns off, when their location changes drastically, if he set it to do so, etc. Many reasons, so he thinks nothing of it.

He doesn’t even realize the smaller screen beside his monitor shows one of his bands have been broken, gone offline, and stopped monitoring the heartbeat and life signature of a particular someone.

He clicked on the video, planning to let it play in the background—maybe it picked up something interesting or helpful with turning the tide of this war.

He watches with a bored expression as the display boots up, until he realizes he recognizes the voice. It’s Y/N’s wristlet that sent the video in? He hadn’t even noticed she was out. Donnie casts a glance behind him, as if doing so would make her appear at his doorway, laughing loudly as she beamed her signature smile and shattered his ears with her loud voice (that he would never admit he loved, never, never ever!)

His attention is brought back to the video as she says something. “What…?” He whispers, looking down and grabbing his mouse to rewind. “What did you say…?” He whispers, leaning in with his head heavy against his palm while his elbow’s leaning into the metal desktop.

A grunt echoes through the video’s wavering audio—a mental note to update their decibel limiters is made—before an obscenity slips her lips and she growls out a, “It was risky, but Donnie will know what to do!”

He gives a prideful grin at that, chuckling as he closes his eyes and replays that in his head. ‘ Donnie will know what to do ‘ is probably the smartest thing she’s ever said, he thinks, humming a bit too peacefully. He’s brought back to his senses as her scream crackles through the recording. He stares wide-eyed at the monitor as the view of a Kraang Commander “Bot” looks down at her. Donnie grabs the sides of the computer screen, clutching tightly as he yells, “Get out of there!”, ignoring that she wouldn’t be able to hear him at all. He watches helplessly as he hears her struggle and scream, yelling insults and cursing, shouting, “For the Revolution!!” before a loud thud and crack. The video’s display has streaks through it and discoloration, indicating damage done to the wristlet. The one /attached to her arm/. Tears well up in his eyes as he shouts, “NO!” as the bot’s foot slams down, disconnecting the transmission entirely. That must have been when the file was sent to him.

He glanced over at the monitor for life signatures, seeing Y/N’s listed as “Undetectable”. Donnie feels himself become weak and light-headed. Anything on his table promptly meets the floor in a fit of rage.

Why her, he mutters.

Why was she out, he yells.

The only thing that calms him is the silhouette that appears in his doorway. He turns, shouting, “Get out, now isn’t the time!” Only to hold his breath as Y/N stands breathless and tattered up, leaning into the doorway as if it were the only thing holding her up. Frankly, based on her state, it probably was. She grins tiredly, shaking a strange circuit board in her hands. “Wh-Why the long face, Don… Donnie? Ah, sorry, I’m… H-Hey, is that my transmitter’s—“ Her eyes roll back as she slumps forward.

Y/N WOULD'VE hit the floor, if not for the desperate hold the genius Donatello had on her. He had sprinted across the room and opened his arms to her desperately. Whatever trinket she brought in could wait, slipping from her weak fingertips to think against the floor.

Best believe as soon as she woke up, a huge scolding was in place! She gave him the scare of a lifetime.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — 2012!Donnie x Y/N

(are you sensing who my favorite character is yet?)

I’ve had this idea for a while for 2012 donnie where y/n is his computer that got some mutagen on it

And then y/n crawls out of the fried computer, glitching all around the room before finally settling above donnie and being like “wooo !! It feels so nice to be able to be free now hey did you know you type really hard like REALY hard oh my gosh it was like a jackhammer on my back and omg your brother the orange one has the stickiest fingers ever just tap tap tapping and getting all my keys sticky oh but hey you always do your best to make sure I’m functional you’re so cool for that! Wanna know some cool funfacts? Searching Google Databases for Fun Facts, loading, ding! Hey, did you kn—“ and he’s just like “ I don’t know if I should be amazed at this literal super computer person or angry that someone more annoying than Mikey has appeared…”

Donnie’s just throwing a wrench across the room, apologizing when he hears Y/N squeak. Turns to see a part of their body glitching out from metal touching them. This tech hes working on won’t work, so they zap on over, floating above his head and leaning on top just for fun, then just goes “Searching Circuitry 62KBLG3.78K Guides on Google Database” and he’s like “What? Did you just identify—never mind that, what issue is there?” And they give a big happy grin, floating above the circuitry and holding a hand out, “One second!” They cheerfully exclaim, zapping out of the air instantly and making sparks come off the scraps he’s working on. Mans panics like holy hell what just happened where did they go when WHOOSH, the tech boots up and their body zzts out. Hands in the air gleefully, they’re like, “Finished! I did it, Donatello!” And he’s all giddy like whoa! You did?!? How did you??? And boom, friendship flourishes!

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Casey x Y/N

(Betcha didn’t expect that?)

Y/N and Casey are out on a mission, they’re in charge of being stealth scouts given that their slick stealth abilities—best of their line.

The scene takes a turn for the worst when they’re in an overgrown building, trying to get a better angle to the scene, to the place they’re contemplating a hit on. The two of them enter a slo-mo state as a kraang tendril juts out from the middle of no where and nics Y/N in the face.

They stumble back and the two share a split second of locked-eyes before quickly making a break for it—their position has been compromised, Casey shouts through his mic. He grabs Y/N’s hand and yanks them with him as he makes a sharp turn, knowing full and well that sharp turns are their weak point. They’re trying to get to a “safe” space, running through the dilapidated halls and crumbling floors. Ahead of them is the opening, a large, long-since shattered window. If they could just leap through that, then the tech around their wrists would give them the boost they needed to escape.

So they focus on that, running as fast as possible—occasionally stumbling or falling through the floor. One helps the other, leaving no one behind.

They’re almost at the edge when an ear-splitting screech stuns Y/N for one second too many. The alien appendage slices across their thigh, rubberbanding through the wound and back to the monster behind them in a fashion similar to a serrated knife.

Y/N screams out, Casey stalls. He pivots on his foot, rushing back to them and reaches out for their hand. He can carry them, he can take it. No one gets left behind, especially not them.

Y/N shakily but swiftly takes his hand, ready to quickly pick up slack so as to not jeopardize them.

But, right before they’re hoisted up onto their feet, their blood runs cold as the monster’s tendril shlunks into Casey’s shoulder, jerking his body back. Away from Y/N, leaving their hand cold, and soon their heart heavy as his feet stumble right off the window’s crumbling edge. The alien’s ligament yanks out of his body as the boy slips down. He’s gone, so fast, as if he wasn’t standing in front of them a second ago.

Y/N is filled with adrenaline immediately as they scream so loudly that their ears ring, the wavering sound in their eardrums could never match the pain in their chest as they stumble and rush to the edge, leaping off and narrowly dodging the next attack sent their way. Falling through the air, the grappling hook around their wrist lets out a series of beeps as it detects an uncharacteristic descent, instantly swinging out to attach to nearby rock and rubble stacked firmly. Y/N ungracefully slams into the wall, scrambling for footing with an injured leg before they began their aided swing down, searching everywhere for Casey. He’s no where to be seen, the further they go and still no sign of him!

Their feet plant firmly into the ground, hundreds of feet below the building’s drop, yet still no Casey. Tears are welling up as they throw caution to the wind and cry out his name.

“ Casey! “

No answer.

“ Casey, god—god damn it, please! Where.. “

No answer, they rub their eyes harshly of the spilling tears.

“ Where are you, CASE—“

A hand clamps against their mouth. A soft yet injure—familiar, too— voice whispers into their ear, and they can’t help but melt into the hold, back pressed against his chest.

“ Y/N, you know how dangerous.. dangerous that is, don’t shout in Kraang territory..”

“ Casey! “

They hugged him tight, excruciatingly so. Scares in the apocalypse were the worst.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Y/N

(apocalypse au)

Y/N sits under an old abandoned monument, around the same time as always, telling the sculpture about their day because they have no one else to listen and tell it to, being that they’re a humble nobody living outside of society in a little abode deep in a quiet forest.

One day, on a particularly heavy day, they’re telling the monument about what they saw when they went towards the city—it seemed as though there was an apocalypse of sorts beginning, so back home they ran, fearing that one day the apocalypse would encroach on their home.

When that happens, they worry what will become of their beloved friend, the unspeaking sculpture.

Sending it time to return home, they wipe their teary eyes, glance again at the stone smile of a long-forgotten hero, and leans into them for a hug.

As they do, suddenly there’s a rush of gravity. Arms wrap securely around their shooken frame as they pmf gently into the grassy beds below.

“ Whoa…”

Says the sculpture, glancing down to stare are their patron with a smile. Orange eyes flicker with a friendliness as he caresses their cheek.

“ Finally, I’m free to do this..”

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Someone x unhinged!villain!Y/N

Villain!Y/N, menacing and feral. Always avoids the cops—always. That includes the brothers. You don’t really terrorize New York that often, so tbh they forget that there’s a real top shooter within their zip code.

They’ve tried to fight you once before and basically got that you are your own form of chaotic lawful, kind of like a real Robin Hood one step away from immoral, unethical. So, deeming you a step behind Hero, they leave you to your own devices. After all, most antics of yours only bring harm to their enemies, never really innocents, so of course they wouldn’t make you a priority.

One day, one of the brothers is in a real conundrum—cornered, isolated, and taken off guard. The tides of the battle teeter both ways, not exactly lending anyone an upper hand, until this player strikes a good hit to the dude’s jaw.

Imagine their shared fear when something a few paces away catches their attention: a figure, silhouetted by the light behind them, wearing a maniacal expression with a substance dripping their hands.

“Come now,”

Crack of the neck, sickeningly so,

“That one’s mine. What high horse you on to be scruffin up what’s mine, baller?”

The fighter lasts only a second of surprise, twinged with fear, before you’re in their face with frighteningly fast speed, hand gripping their face in a way that seems like slow-mo to the downed brother. He watches the fighter get risen and then slammed into the ground. Silence plateaus until finally he speaks up,

“ … Thanks? “

“ Thanks? “

You respond confusedly, eyes glinting with an emotion softer than the wild-child energy it usually embodies.

That’s all for now :)) thank you for reading uwu

If there’s any of these that you’d like to see as a longer fic, just ask I guess.

[frostedpuffs]

Hey do you have any advice on how to just…start writing. Like I have so many brilliant ideas that have the potential to be really really good fics but I just can’t write them. As soon as I sit down and open a doc i freeze up and just stare at the cursor and end up with like a word or a key smash. Help?

it sounds like you're getting intimidated by the idea of writing something good rather than just writing. my advice for writing is simply to just WRITE. i know that is easier said than done, but don't let the idea that your first draft has to be perfect intimidate you out of writing! the truth is, no first draft is perfect.

when i write my fics, i usually write the chapters in two to four sittings, smashing my keys and spitting out words on the page without thinking much about what comes out. then i leave the document alone for a day or two and come back to edit. editing is actually how my stories form! i will edit the draft once, then go back and edit it again another day, and then again and again until i have something i feel is worthy to post. now, i am a bit of a perfectionist, so you do not need to edit extensively if you don't feel the draft requires it....but my point is, just write! get some words down. something. anything. it is infinitely easier to go back and edit those words than it is to try and make everything perfect from the beginning

just get something on the page. even bullet points or messy key smashes of thoughts. that way you have something to go off of instead of staring at a page. if you have a fear of writing, it won't be solved by avoiding writing

that's always what my advice will be when i get these sorts of questions. if you're scared of writing, do it anyway. write scared. it'll get less scary the more you do it. i promise :) good luck

[spidernuggets]

note: i thought your idea was so cool and wanted to write for it. it’s the way i said i’m writing this and not my papers due tomorrow. it's also not finished hence why it doesn't include all the plot points and i don't think i'll continue it cause it sucks but wanted you at least read it. i also noticed that you said the titan not the teen titan and that who I based this off of and then reread your plot again and realized (another reason why i feel like not continuing it) gosh this is mess but enjoy!

“tell me, are they going to be okay? 

the question is from starfire who carries a concerned look on her face while everyone else’s eyes are still glued to the tv screen.    

“don’t worry star, course they will. it’s just a movie after all, none of it is real.” dick’s attempt to comfort kori comes from a place of trying to remind her that movies are in fact not documented disasters but purely made for entertainment purposes.

“no.” beastboy blurts out out of no where, but is lucky that starfire is too focused to hear what he says.

both you and raven shoot him a look from your places on the couch, one that clearly reads ‘don’t you dare say anything that’ll even come close to spoiling anything again.’

“i mean no it’s not. the titanic was an actual thing that happened. it is real right?” he turns to you who’s plotted on the ground with him to defend his case.

you only shushes him with a hand gesture and signal to keep watching.

“—i see now. i believe i understand. titanic. titans. surely, a collective of superhero’s like us shall show up and rescue all in the ship.” star looks proud with her predictions.

everyone freezes.

you eye dick who’s next to you and his eyes are wide and saying ‘maybe showing her this movie wasn’t the best of ideas.”

you’re amazing with this eye reading thing.

you glance at raven. she shrugs.

“we’ll just have to se—.”

your voice is interrupted by what sounds like footsteps trotting up the stair. everyone looks back to the unthreatening intruder to only then look back when he’s identified.

he’s invisible.

he makes no effort to glance at anyone. you make no effort to look away from him.

…

the sticker of [blank] on jason’s room stares back at you. technically speaking it’s the spare room that stays vacant which he only uses whenever he’s around.

which is not often.

before you can raise a hand to knock, the door flings open and you’re met with an unexpected glare from jason.

“hi.”

“hey.” he looks out into the hall and back at you. “wasn’t expecting you.”

“sure you weren’t.” you poke your tongue out.

“of course I wasn’t.”

“says the person swinging open doors.” he needs to be reminded.

“to the person snooping around floors they have no business being on.” you need to remember.

you narrow your eyes at him, and smile starts to play on your lips. the one he’s been holding back since you came hasn’t gone unnoticed by you either.

“okay jason. i’m here for you because i miss you so much and maybe, just maybe, i want a hug, 4 kisses and 7 different responds to my question of ‘how are you doing?’”

jason’s can’t help but laugh at your admission. “yeah?”

“are you making fun of me?” you pout.

“i wouldn’t dream of it. c’ mere.”

grumpy and moody is what he is in others presence but for you he’ll show you any side. as he pulls you into a warm hug, you can’t help but feel a sense of victory. it might be your playful way of breaking down his walls, but you know that deep down, he appreciates your effort to bring a bit of lightheartedness into his world.

to you he’s never invisible.

you nuzzle your head into his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

“you took forever.”

“i know.”

…

jason’s room lacks curtains, a detail most evident in times like these when the sunlight infiltrates in and rouses you from your sleep.

you’d offered getting him a pair from the storage a couple of times, but his response was always the same: he wouldn’t be around for too long.

so you don’t need to turn around to know he’s gone.

...

U g hhhh!!! STOP they little cuties

-------------------------------------------------------------

The two of you laid in his bed for a while longer, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around your waste.

"I wish you'd stay longer," you say quietly. A wish, a hope, a desire you crave every day. You couldn't help but lean closer into his body as you whisper that, wanting to hold him tighter, closer, as if he would permanently fall off the face of the earth if you'd let go.

"I know, mama," He replies sadly. He mirrors your movements, arms holding you close. Holding on, rewinding the fantasy he's been playing in his head. The fantasy that he could just take you away with him. Settle down in someplace far from Gotham. Far from any worries. But that's all it was. A fantasy. A fantasy he couldn't make come true, and you couldn't either.

"We're going to be okay?" You ask. It was meant to come out as a statement. But though you gave so much faith in your relationship, you couldn't help but question how long you can hold on.

"We're going to be okay," Jason states. Neither of you make a promise. Neither if you can guarantee that you'll be okay. But for now, you cherish the moment. With tight hugs, lingering kisses, and fading fantasies.

Your hand trails down to his. Your thumb caresses his calloused skin. Reminding him he's not invisible. Not to you. Never to you.

-------------------------------------------------------------

IK UR LIL STORY ISNT FINISHED N U WONT CONTINUE IT, BUT I LOVE IT SM STILL 🫶🫶 I WANTED TO CONTINUE ON LIKE A LIL COLLAB!

THANKS SO MUCH ANON, THIS HAS FILLED THE EMPTY HOLE IN MY SOUL THAT LACKED MY PROMPT, EVEN IF IT IS LACKING PLOT POINTS, STILL ADORE IT NONETHELESS!!!

HOPE YOU GET YOUR PAPER DONE!! I'M CURRENTLY READING YOUR SHORT STORY INSTEAD OF WRITING MY ESSAY TOO!! HAVE A GREAT DAY!

[youshouldhavepaidattentiondad]

Blank Pages and Empty Hearts

Ao3

Blank pages scatter across the desk. There should be writing on them: reports and memos and things of that sort.

Instead, John finds himself staring at solid white sheets.

His first thought is Smythe trying to pull some sort of elaborate prank, but he quickly dismisses it. Aside from their penchant for trying to sneak in green apples, Smythe takes their work seriously.

Pulling out a cigarette, John places it carefully between his lips before lighting it. He takes a long drag before sighing, his breath carrying a cloud of smoke with it.

It's too goddamn early for this.

He stands abruptly, beginning to pace the floor, occasionally glancing back at his desk. He knows, without a doubt, those pages had words on them when he left last night.

No one else has access to his office. The only way someone could get in is if they could teleport-

Realization makes him stop in his tracks. Cursing, he heads back to his desk before dropping into his chair.

Flicking the ashes off the end of his cigarette, he fights back a groan. This is the last thing he wants to deal with.

Especially today of all days.

He finishes his cigarette, stubbing the butt out in the ashtray before standing again. He heads for the door.

As soon as his fingers brush the handle, he feels eyes on him.

Freezing, John closes his eyes, hoping he's just imagining it.

Luck has never been on his side though.

“Well, well, well,” an all too familiar voice croons, “Already stressed so early in the morning, Johnny?”

An annoyed huff escapes John as he turns to glare at the man sitting on the edge of his desk. “I wouldn't be stressed if somebody hadn't taken my paperwork.”

Wiley gives an infuriating smirk. “All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy,” he mocks as he casually tosses a green apple in the air. He catches it easily before taking a bite.

“Besides,” Wiley continues after he swallows, “Today is a special day. Don't even know why you're here, if I'm being honest.”

Gritting his teeth, John pulls out another cigarette. He waits until he's taken a drag to respond, “What, did you expect me to take today off?”

Wiley's smirk widens. “You did the past fourteen years. I just want to know what makes this year any different.”

“Give me back my documents and perhaps I'll tell you,” John bargains.

An annoyed sigh leaves Wiley as he snaps his fingers.

Ink blooms on the papers laying on the desk. It spreads and swirls until the words return to their proper place.

Pushing off the desk to take to his feet, Wiley begins walking toward John. “So? What makes today any different?”

John frowns slightly. The door is right behind him. His office doesn't have windows. He has no escape route.

He draws one of his guns, aiming easily at Wiley. “None of your business.”

“You wanna repeat that, Johnny?”

In a blink, the gun is out of John's hand and into Wiley's. Wiley easily takes the clip out before tossing the gun and magazine aside.

Swearing under his breath, John considers pulling out another gun, but he knows it's futile. The same thing will happen.

So instead, he opts to counter, “It's been fifteen years. Why would I keep taking today off?”

“Because, you're a hopeless romantic. Always have been,” Wiley taunts as he comes to a stop in front of John. He reaches up to grab the tags hanging from around John's neck. “Same reason you still wear one of my tags.”

He glances down to examine the tags, stiffening when he reads John's name on both of them. “... John, where's my tag?”

For a moment, he sounds so much like Wilbur again that it makes John's chest ache. “Packed away with the rest of your things.”

“Why-” Wiley cuts off abruptly as he puts the pieces together. His gaze rises to meet John's, dark eyes burning with something John doesn't want to name. “Who is he?” Wiley demands, voice deadly quiet.

“Why does it matter?” John questions. “You left. What I do now is none of your business.”

Something akin to a growl sounds off low in Wiley's throat. “You're making a mistake, Johnny,” he warns, leaning in closer.

John feels something in his chest snap. “No, the mistake was waiting fifteen years for you to come back. You made your choice, Wilbur. Now I get to make mine.”

Wiley's grip tightens on the tags before he lets go. “You better pray I don't find out who he is, Johnny.” A sick smile stretches his mouth almost grotesquely. He shakes his head. “And to think I stopped by to tell you happy anniversary.”

Before John can respond, Wiley has disappeared.

Pushing off the door, John goes back to the desk, settling in his chair. He busies himself by sorting through the papers, making neat little stacks as he tries to ignore how his heart attempts to beat out of his chest.

[somebluemelodies]

almost gave up on writing this bc all my progress got deleted over a couple weeks ago but i am nothing if not determined (read: a stubborn shit) so i finally came back to rewrite cross-posted to ao3 here :>

As a kid, Roier was obsessed with the sea. He loved everything about it. Including the merfolk.

Every book about mer and their lore he could get a hold of, he read. They fascinated him to no end.

It's why he's never trusted the Federation. Why he never told his abuelo about his fascination. Roier knows what they do to the mer they capture.

His abuelo is a long-time Federation officer, and he remembers overhearing many a work-related discussion at night when he was younger, or reading his classified documents when he wasn't home.

The Federation "studies" mer, asking people that if they ever see a mer, to report the sighting to an officer. And by that, they experiment. All under the guise they preach to the public of "studying" them.

(Deepsea mer get it the worst. Labelled as aggressive, human-killing monsters, the Federation has made everyone fearful of them. Roier pushes everything he's ever read about a captured deepsea mer to the far back of his mind.)

(Surely they can't be that bad, can they?)

When Roier was old enough, he took off to live a life on the sea. A pirate, if you will, because that's what the Federation calls everyone smart enough to not conform to their overbearing ways. And he's been thoroughly enjoying his life ever since.

As it stands currently, he and the rest of the crew - friends, really - have been docked for a few days now for reparation and selling purposes. He tries to ignore the fact there's a plethora of Federation officers wandering the town, with a base of operations just outside of it, and instead spends much of his time wandering up and down the beach.

It's what he's doing this late afternoon. About to walk past a cave, a slight glint in his peripherals has him glancing into the mouth of the cave and freezing in his tracks.

Roier finds himself staring at a mer, who appears to be tangled in a net. Their tail almost looks black, but under the light of the sunset, he realizes the scales are actually the deepest emerald green he's ever seen. Looking around to make sure no one - no officer - is watching him, he slips inside.

His boots in the shallow water catch the attention of the mer, whose head snaps up at the sound. Piercing blue eyes almost seem to glow in the dim light, glaring daggers at him, and Roier freezes, holding his hands up. "I just want to help! I'm not here to hurt you or something. Can I help you?"

(Can the merman even understand him?)

The silent question is answered by the snarl on the mer's face gradually dropping, followed by a hesitant nod. His eyes continue to follow Roier closely, though, who tries to mask his surprise at the fact he's just been comprehended by a mer.

Kneeling next to the mer, he's able to make out more detail. Most notably, a bunch of scars, be it a long, thin one stretching across the bridge of his nose or the sheer amount littering his arms.

(It looks like there are more on his torso, but his arm is covering the lower half. Alarmingly, Roier swears he sees red underneath, too.)

(One step at a time.)

Roier pulls out his dagger, and starts the process of carefully cutting the merman free from the net. While doing so, he notices one signature detail of the net.

It's white.

"Did the Federation try to capture you?" he asks, sparing a brief glance up at the merman's handsome face. "And you managed to escape?"

(Focus. Focus.)

The mer nods. Roier sighs. "Fucking hate those guys, man."

He perks up a bit, as if to say "you too?" and the pirate offers a small smile in turn. But it fades after a moment. "I know what they do to you guys. It's not fair."

Silence befalls them, save for the slicing of his dagger against the net. It takes a bit, but he's finally able to pull the netting off of the mer and toss it off to the side.

The mer looks some semblance of thankful, although it turns to a grimace when he goes to move his arm that's been wrapped around his stomach this whole time, and it resumes its original place.

Roier frowns. "You're hurt. Let me see."

He doesn't move his arm, though, and it takes Roier gently prying it away so he can inspect the damage. Doing so reveals some type of stab wound, but from what, he isn't quite sure. It's not life-threatening, that much he also knows, but it's certainly bad enough to warrant concern.

(And he's very concerned.)

But he quickly realizes yet another problem. Said problem being that he has no medical supplies on him. Granted, he could go back to the ship for some, but that means either running into another member of the crew or worse... someone else stumbling upon this mer.

(Is it worth the risk?)

"Okay, bad news," he speaks up again. "I don't have any supplies to help you on me, but I might be able to--"

Roier is cut off by watching the mer reach for a satchel he didn't even realize the latter had. "Oh, shit-- Do you have your own supplies?"

The merman nods, but before he can take out any of the supplies on his own, the pirate is reaching out to take the satchel. "I can help you again," he offers. "It'll be a lot easier than trying to fix yourself, you know?"

He seems surprised by the offer, but holds out the satchel after a few moments, watching him with a look Roier can't quite decipher.

(Apprehension? Fondness? Incredulousness?)

(All he knows is those bright eyes are a lot less scary than they've been made out to be.)

The patching-up process takes a little longer than the untangling, and Roier has to light up the lantern he brought with him now that the sun has set, but he finally finds himself wrapping the mer's torso, sitting back slightly on his knees to inspect his work. "I think that should do it. Just... be careful, okay?"

Another nod, and Roier takes another few moments to study him. Between the glowing eyes and the scars, the slight rips in some of his fins, thinking about his initial attitude...

"Are you a deepsea mer?" he asks after a beat.

The mer freezes, watching him closely and seeming to scan him for any signs of hostility. Roier only looks back at him, though, making no subtle movements, and he finally nods slowly.

Roier hums. "I figured. But for all the Federation talk about you guys being ugly monsters... you look like the opposite." The merman looks stunned. "You're... very pretty, you know? Handsome."

(Beautiful, even.)

It's his turn to be surprised when the mer smiles for the first time. A relatively small smile, but one nevertheless, and it's one that makes something warm start to bloom in his chest, everything feeling just a little fuzzy.

The mer then picks up his satchel again, rummaging through it until he pulls something out. He grabs one of Roier's hands, holding it up and gently placing something smooth in his palm before closing his fingers around it.

(Roier mourns the loss of the brief contact, and then immediately mentally kicks himself in the ass for the fact.)

("Please be careful, okay?" Another nod.)

With the high tide coming into the cave, the merman is able to start making his way out with relative ease, sparing a brief glance back to Roier and waving before disappearing under the water with a glint of emerald under the moonlight.

For several moments, he stands there in silence, processing. And then, he looks down at his hand, opening it.

A sizeable piece of dark green sea glass rests in his palm, and he can't help the smile that etches its way onto his face.

The pirate carefully pockets it, and, on his way back to the ship, can only hope to whatever god is listening that this isn't the end, but only something just beginning.

[joanquill]

Little notes or cards

I would love this one with Luis😍 don't have an idea for it just a romantic fluff is fine😁

Louis James Moriarty

A/N: I'm late but HAPPY PRIDE MONTH STILL! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 Tag/s: Established Relationship, Longer than Expected (800+ words)

Louis raised a brow as he raised the suspicious object in his hand, adjusting his glasses as he inspected it.

"What on Earth...?" Louis muttered, staring at the object wrapped in a thick blanket on his desk.

As he was getting ready for the day, he spotted a suspicious object in the corner of his eye.

Squinting his eyes, Louis cautiously walked up to the object and carefully unwrapped it.

It was hollow and decorated with various shades of purple and random patterns.

Louis raised a brow as he inspected it from top to bottom, seeing no type of lid or opening on it.

However, he could hear something rustling inside.

'A bomb? No... It would be useless to design it and put it in a blanket. Then what...?'

"Louis!" you called out from the hallway, making Louis quickly wrap the blanket around the object and hide it under his bed.

You knocked on his door and peeked your head through the crack, "Breakfast is ready," you reminded, as he straightened up his coat.

"Right. Thank you, (Y/N)," he smiled politely, making you nod as you looked over to his desk, seeing the now empty space.

"You found my gift!" you beamed, making Louis freeze.

'It was a gift...?' he internally muttered as you rushed to hug him.

"Did you like it? It was my first time doing that type of chocolate, so I wasn't sure about it..." you muttered, making Louis feel twice as guilty.

"It's a lovely gift," he reassured, keeping his cool head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Thank you," he added, kissing your forehead, making you smile.

"So, have you opened it?" you excitedly ask, making Louis freeze.

"Open it...?"

"Yeah? Didn't you read the-"

"-Hey, look out!" Bonde's voice echoed, followed by various crashes.

"...I'll just ask you later..." you whispered, rushing downstairs.

For the rest of the day, Louis kept thinking about your gift.

He would sneak back into his room to try and figure out what kind of chocolate was your peculiar gift, let alone how to open it.

The sun had finally set, and Louis still had no clue.

"Was there a key I missed...?" he muttered, racking his brain for every possible answer.

As he walked into his room, he saw you with the gift in your hands.

"(Y/N)!" he called out, surprising you.

"Louis!" you breathed out, startled by his voice.

"Sorry. William asked me to bring some documents from your room, and my foot hit it while I was looking..." you explained, hugging your gift.

"Right," he muttered, feeling guilty as he looked away from you, unsure how to explain why your gift was stuffed under his bed.

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" you asked, making Louis frown in defeat.

"...No... I'm sorry..." he sighed, making you chuckle.

"Come on," you grabbed his hand with a grin on your face,

"I'll show you how to open it,"

You led Louis to the gardens, spreading the blanket over the grass.

Meanwhile, Louis carefully watched you, holding onto the chocolate as he tried to figure out what you were trying to do.

"Here," you reached out your hand as Louis gave you the chocolate, an excited glint in your eyes.

You raised the gift over your head, looking at the blanket.

Louis' eyes widened upon realization.

"(Y/N), stop-!" he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you, but he was too late.

You smashed the chocolate over the blanket, revealing several little paper-folded hearts.

"Oh..." Louis breathed in relief, making you chuckle.

"It usually comes with a small hammer, but I thought writing "BREAK ME" was enough, and this was more fun! I guess it was too hard to read, huh?" you explained, gathering the paper hearts in your hand and sneaking some chocolate into your mouth.

"...I thought it was a design pattern," Louis sighed, moving every broken piece away from you as you snickered.

"You could have just asked. I wouldn't be mad,"

"It seemed rude..."

"Oh, please... Even I knew it looked wrong,"

"It had charm," Louis defended, popping some chocolate into his mouth.

"And it tastes superb,"

As you picked up the last paper heart, you grabbed Louis' hand and placed them all in his palm.

"Here," you took one out of the pile and opened it.

"This was your real gift," you smiled, giving him the note.

"To the man I couldn't imagine living this life without, I hope we have more years to come by each other's side."

"Pretty cheesy, huh?" you nervously laughed, looking away as your face grew warm.

Louis smiled at the note and neatly folded it, tucking it carefully into his pocket.

"No, it's perfect," he reassured, lifting your chin and kissing your cheek.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," he smiled, his fingers trailing down to your shoulder down to your hand, intertwining your fingers.

"For both gifts," he added, making you smile.

"You better have something good for White Day then," you teased, making him chuckle.

"I'm not sure if I can be on par with yours, but I'll try."

[nichenarratives]

Lackadrabbles 1

Just a skit, for the funnies.

Backscratcher

Rocky using his desk ruler as a backscratcher was perhaps the last thing Mordecai expected to open his office to that morning. The door had been locked and there were no windows into the room to use for access. Yet here the irritating musician is, fully standing on the accountant’s desk, bent right over backwards with an arm over his shoulder to ensure the thirty centimeter wooden tool could reach his lower back, an intense look of relief on his face.

In contrast, Mordecai rapidly cycles through an array of minute micro expressions; eyes widening a touch in surprise, he blinks in confusion, then scowls with irritation and a single ear flicker of anger before he slams the door closed. Rocky freezes, eyes wide and pupils narrow, an obtusely bent deer caught in headlights as Mordecai pulls his satchel over his head and wrinkles his nose in discontent. 

“What,” he asks sharply, pausing not for effect but to remember to breathe. “Are you doing with my ruler, Roark?”

The tabby bites his lip, glancing over his shoulder toward the ruler then back at Mordecai, before an anatomically concerning smile broadens across his face. “Morde!” He greets when straightening up, his spine flexing as easily as bent spaghetti as he rolls his shoulders back upright. The tuxedo’s ear flicks again and he squeezes the satchel shoulder strap in a fist. Rocky doesn't seem to notice his displeasure. “Mr May sent me to find you! You didn't answer, so I let myself in. Then I found this back scrat-”

“That is a dual measure imperial-metric table top ruler,” Mordecai corrects in a low, dangerous tone. “Designed to measure both inches and centimeters to the extent dictated by the average desk. It can also be used to create straight lines, grids, even ledgers but it most certainly is not a back scratcher.” 

He places his bag in the guest chair opposite his desk, glaring up at the tabby through his glasses as he advances, his fangs bared as he motions from the carpeted office floor to where Rocky continues to stand. “Even if it were, why does that facilitate standing on my desk? What purpose does elevation serve when scratching your back? The increased gravitational force of two feet won't assist either your reach for transferable force. It's nonsensical!”

It's Rocky's turn to blink, his posture slouched to the side and a lip curled slightly into a sneer, though his wide eyes and twisted muzzle soften his features to a confused stare. Mordecai sucks in breaths after his rant, teeth still bared, his palms turned upwards and open in question as they stare at each other. A second turns into two, then five. Just as Mordecai is about to order him out does Rocky straighten up.

“Well,” he begins now, placing a hand on his hip and puffing out his chest some, his tail swishing behind him contentedly. “You see, it all began in a dream-”

“Leave. Immediately.”

Despite his former confident stance, the gray tabby scrambles to comply with the order, falling over his own ankle and stumbling off the desk in a pile at Mordecai’s feet. He glances up directly into a stern gaze of his coworker and grins sheepishly, a soft chuckle in his throat before he scrabbles out of the door on all fours and pulls the door closed with his foot along the way.

Silence falls in the windowless office. Olive eyes slip closed as Mordecai takes a deep breath. Exhaling sharply through his nose in a huff, he turns around and carefully removes his hat, placing it on the coat rack behind the door. His coat follows, as does his suit jacket, whereupon the accountant turned trigger man carefully rolls his sleeves to his elbows before approaching his desk.

The tuxedo slips into methodically soothing routine setting under for the day: emptying his satchel of important documents, ledgers and books; sitting in his chair and setting out his pens; locating receipts to include in expenses and file away. It's only as he comes to organising his writing equipment, laying it out in order, that Mordecai realises he's missing the very piece of the ensemble Rocky had been using to relieve an awkward itch.

His hand hovers over the empty spot on his desk, a breath momentarily caught in his throat. His setup is incomplete. It instills a momentary discourse in the reserved tuxedo; he can't fulfill his duties without his equipment. His hand shakes a little over the empty space, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Flexing his fingers into a fist, Mordecai takes another pointedly deep breath and leans back in his chair, taking off his glasses to rub the corners of his eyes roughly.

It shouldn't be too difficult to find a replacement or recover his trusted ruler from the musician, but first; Mordecai Heller needs a strong cup of tea…

[e-lisard]

I Love You

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Shimura Kyomi

Story: Descend Into Magic

CW: none that I know of

WC: 510

Leona sighs as he trudges back to the dorm. Another day of taking a class here and a nap there, with Ruggie coming to bother him every so often. The same way it always is.

He's tired. A soul-deep exhaustion that's been there since he was a child, that won't go away no matter how much he sleeps. Still, it's the only possible solution he has.

Some students greet him as he walks, and he just grunts in reply. They leave him alone soon enough, probably having heard horror stories about what happens when you disturb Leona when he's like this.

He squints at the sky before grunting again. Not even a good day for just laying on the ground and staring for a few hours.

"Kitty!" A shout is the only warning he gets before a small body slams into him full force. Really, if the omnivore was any bigger, he might actually have made Leona stumble.

"Kyomi," he rumbles in response, looking down at one of the few people he tolerates.

Big, red eyes stare up at him, filled with plenty of emotion Leona can't decipher before it's gone, just a big smile on his face, one that almost forces Kyomi's eyes closed. "I love you, Leona," he says, simple and honest.

It's so little, and something he's said plenty of times before, and yet this time it's enough to make Leona freeze. "... What?" His voice croaks a little and he winces, both at the sound and his own question.

"I love you. A lot. You're important to me, Leona." Kyomi's eyes take on a determined shine, looking just like rubies. It takes Leona's breath away a little.

"Where's this coming from?" he asks, trying to play at being unaffected and instead just getting confused and a little helpless.

"You're having a bad day, so I wanted to remind you that I'm here for you." Kyomi's eyes soften now, losing that ruby quality, but still being just as bright, just as colorful. "If you ever need to vent, or need an escape from it all, or just want a hug... I'm here for you. You're my friend, I'd burn down the world for you if you wanted me to."

Anyone else, Leona would have thought they'd be exaggerating. Maybe he would have appreciated the sentiment, but he would not have believed them. Kyomi, though? He knows the brat isn't lying. He's seen how fiercely protective he is of those he loves, the lengths he's willing to go. Even before he cared for Leona, he was already risking his life for him.

"Tch," he says instead of any of his thoughts, picking up his omnivore under one arm.

"Eh? Where are we going?" Kyomi tilts his head, and Leona squeezes him.

"To Savanaclaw. It's time for dinner."

"Oh. Okay." Kyomi easily relaxes, letting Leona carry him off.

Leona glances around again before he steps into the mirror chamber, a soft smile he'd never admit to on his face as the grass suddenly seems greener, the sky a brighter blue than before.

---

Flash Fiction Friday taglist: @flashfictionfridayofficial

Descend Into Magic taglist:

General taglist: @simkarta333 @sparrow-orion-writes

If you want to be added to/removed from a taglist, you can either let me know, or do it yourself in this document (yes that's a link).

[thetragicallynerdy]

WIP weekend

Time to do a WIP weekend!! I got tagged by @zombiethingy, and finally have time to write today (and this whole week really), and need some inspiration, so here we go! Thanks so much for the tag friend!!

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

My WIPs are:

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Sunday AND Tuesday – Soulmate AU + First Meetings – soulmates seeing in colour version. Jim/Archie/Olu/Zheng."

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Wednesday – Fighting | Hurt/Comfort – Jim insomnia fic - WEREWOLF AU PACK PACK PACK"

garlic soup week planning - subtitle "Friday  - Garlic (NSFW) - Group Sex | Exploring a new kink  AND Saturday – Mix up the pairings/dealer’s choice – Jim/Zheng with Olu/Archie watching."

Concussion – unfinished, unposted (OFMD, Jim-centric)

blood part 4 (OFMD)

For "OFMD garlic soup week is in 6 weeks and I want to have at least a few fics done" reasons, three of my WIPs are for that XD (but they're all in one document because i'm terrible, so they get subtitles too)

Tagging, but only if you want to (and if you don't I am handing you an oven-warm cookie instead)! @alfalfairy, @yourlocal-charlatan, @yerbamansa, @redxluna, @petrichorca - and anyone who sees this and wants to do it! (Feels like a long while since I've tagged writer pals, so I can't remember who all of you that like to do this sort of thing are XD)

Snippet below the cut:

from concussion (which is an exploration of long-term concussion & disability through ofmd)

The first miracle happens – a man comes back to life. It’s not the man you hoped it would be, but it’s a joyful occasion nonetheless. Joyful, and fearful, because you don’t know what you’ll do if Blackbeard or Izzy finds out.

It’s Lucius. You stumble back to your cabin early one evening, because if you don’t lie down you might pass out, and Fang insists he’ll cover for you and shoos you away. You slide open the door and find Lucius sprawling on your bed, whispering to Frenchie who sits on the floor darning the pants he’d torn at the knee the day before.

They both freeze, staring at you like a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Jim,” Frenchie says, stumbling over his words, darning set carefully aside as he scrambles to his feet. “I can explain –“

You stumble into the room, closing the door and lurching towards the bed. Lucius sits up, and you can see now that he’s skinny, filthy too, a full beard covering his face. You can’t believe he’s alive. You can’t believe he’s here.

“I need to lie down,” is all you can say, because if you say anything else you’re going to burst into tears, and if you wrap him up in a hug you might shatter apart.

“No, yeah, absolutely,” Lucius stammers out, sitting up. “I can go –“

You don’t wait. You just crawl onto the mattress beside him and lay down, curling onto your side, dragging the pillow from where it lay and shoving it under your head. It hurts to keep your eyes open, so you close them, press your palms overtop for good measure. The warmth of them helps, and the way they block out the light helps even more. “Stay.”

Silence follows, or maybe you just can’t hear the creaking of his weight shifting on the bed or the looks he and Frenchie exchange over the thudding of your pulse in your ears. Slowly, carefully, not touching you at all, Lucius lays back down.

Two fingers touch the back of your hand, feather-light. “Are you alright?”

A lump grows in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Sorry -” The touch disappears. Before he can move away completely you reach out, fumble for his hand. Grab it, and hold it so tight your hand hurts.

“Stay,” you mumble again.

So Lucius does.

[mike-wachowski]

I have to ask #29 Thanks in advance!

29: Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

YEAHHHHHH HAHA THANKS INKYDROPIES

okay i have genuinely so many oneshot wips i could choose from to post for this but i think im going to choose an old fic i was working on- its a tumblr mutals fic lol, where lena and kara are both in the same fandom for the tv show "morgana", kara writes fic, and lena is her beta reader. the "morgana" show was going to be loosely inspired by jazzfordshire's morgana/red daughter au fics, and i actually got her permission to slip some references in there lol.

anyways, i think if i never end up going back to this i might cannabalize it for another fandom (maybe imodna? im still unsure) but without further adieu- the first part of the wip

The straps of leather between Morgana’s fingertips were rough with use and wear. Toying with them gently was as easy as toying with the woman beneath the form fitting armor, yet it proved itself quickly to be only half as fun. As Morgana trailed a finger down one of the straps of the chest harness, dragging slowly, she heard a soft intake of breath from her companion. 

“Do not tease,” El whispered, but her command held none of the bite Morgana so dearly craved to hear from the accented woman— truly, it bore the opposite: she heard only thick, unadulterated affection. El’s eyes flickered and shone ice-blue in the firelight of their shared hearth, and Morgana found herself drawing from all the power within her to stop herself from lunging forward and ravishing the woman’s lips. She wanted to be ever closer to El, bound hand and waist, palm and throat, lip and lip. She wanted to hear that rough voice, usually restrained by her knight’s mysterious stoicism, begging and crying out for her. She wanted to hear her say it— say the words Morgana hungered to hear-

“Kara. Earth to Kara.” 

The hands flying across her laptop keyboard freeze. Kara glances up from her desk. 

Winn Schott is staring at her over a dusty CatCo monitor. His eyes are wide, frantically oscillating between her and the door. “Ms. Grant just walked in,” he hisses. 

“Oh, shit.” Kara slams her laptop shut, grabbing her phone. She quickly slides it open to her mail app, scanning through all her recent messages— “Winn, did you forward me that message from IT?” 

“Already sent,” he nods, glancing up at her from his dual monitors. “And you have something on your shirt.” 

“Oh, darn it—” Kara glances down at her white oxford, sees the tan stain present beneath her chest pocket, and scowls. Stupid National City streets making the bus rides so bumpy. She didn’t even notice she spilled coffee over herself. 

Kara wrestles her blazer out of her bag, throwing it on top of her shirt and hoping for the best. She about faces, turning towards the door’s to Cat’s office, and, taking an exaggerated breath, steals herself for her first, and worst, interaction with Cat of the day. 

She pushes open the door. Cat Grant sits, regal, ruling the room from her ergonomic office chair. She types idly away at her laptop with one hand, and scrolls through her carefully curated morning news feed with her other. 

“You’re late,” she says to Kara, without looking up, even though Kara technically arrived to work before her. “I’ve been sitting here, waiting, for six minutes,” she continues, which, objectively, is true. 

 “Sorry, Ms. Grant,” Kara mumbles, pulling out her phone and clicking open her document with all of Cat’s itinerary for the day. 

Cat Grant starts speaking, then, and Kara tries to focus on her boss’s words, but her mind, as usual, wanders. She had been in such a groove on what she was writing, had finally broken through the haze of writer’s block she had been experiencing for nearly a week. And right as she’s about to round out the denouement of this fic, just in time for the end of the week, she has to be interrupted by her job. 

It’s really her fault, she knows. She should try to keep her home life and work life a little more separate— but the newest episode of Morgana dropped last night, and Kara had been filled with such inspiration for a scene in her current fic she spent nearly the entire bus ride here and the rest of the morning working through it. She’s nearly done too, she just has to send it off to—

Kara’s phone buzzes, perfectly timed, and she knows exactly who it is without even checking. 

Kara slides past her lockscreen and taps open the tumblr app. There waiting for her, past a wall of messages and notes, is a message from the one person she’s been hoping to hear from most all morning—the only person who could maybe help her turn this terrible morning around.

[] morgana-with-a-gun

read through what you added to the google doc last night. left some notes. its looking pretty good. 

Kara practically swoons.