#OOC: time is a blur man; i hate it

[askpenpals]

ooc: How long has Bugsy existed as a character?

OOC: Since maybe the middle of last year I think? Genuinely cannot remember.

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

My Honey ♡ My Bee (fic)

Link to Art (credits go to @munchr00m (elaine !) on Twitter!): Sethos/Scaramouche

—

Summary: Wanderer and Sethos hang out, but Scara’s thoughts and uncertainty about their dynamic in the future end up eating at him. Sethos reassures him through convincing means.

A/N: SethoScara!! These two have me in a chokehold and the art and fanfics for these two are amazing. And here is my contribution :) Inspiration for this fic comes from this post. I did my best to retain Scara’s bratty attitude, but I also wanted to show a softer and vulnerable side to him. So, I’m sorry if Scaramouche seems OOC to you all. With that being said, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

P.S. There is a small scene that might be slightly NSFW to some, you’ll see it when you get to it, so you can skip the section until you don’t see any of the stuff you don’t want to see. Can’t reveal too much for spoilers. If anyone’s interested in me writing a smut fic (would be my first!) for these two, let me know! I’ll leave a poll :)

Word Count: 1965 Also on AO3!

—

The sky was a mix of red and orange hues as the sun set over the horizon. At the base of a tree outside of Sumeru City sat Wanderer and Sethos. The two of them have grown to like each other’s presence and made the tree their special spot to be with one another.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sethos spoke.

“You have poor taste in beauty,” Scaramouche answered, making Sethos chuckle. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny.”

“Hehe, I know. I never get tired of your responses.”

“Hmph, weirdo.”

A comforting silence settled afterward before Scaramouche spoke again.

“Why…Why do you keep putting up with me?”

The seriousness in his tone made Sethos look at him with concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a nobody. Someone who tried to become a god. A puppet that was thrown away because they were useless. One that makes mean and snarky comments. Why? Why do you want to be with someone like me?”

A surprised look crossed Sethos’s face.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I like being with you.”

Scara’s eyes widened as Sethos continued.

“I was curious about your mysterious past and kept pestering you until you told me. When you did, I didn’t turn away disgusted or begin to hate you. All it did was make me want to be with you even more.”

Conflicting emotions and uncertainty ran through Wanderer's eyes before they were stopped by a hand on his cheek.

“You dare-” Scara started, making a move to swat Sethos’s hand away before Sethos started stroking his cheek with his thumb. He went quiet as he made eye contact with Sethos who had an endearing expression on his face.

“I'll take care of you.”

I'll take care of you.

A flicker of light is shown behind Wanderer’s eyes upon hearing those words. But as quick as it came, his eyes darkened with uncertainty.

“It's rotten work.”

“Not to me.”

Surprised, stormy eyes met determined, loving ones.

“Not if it's you.”

Those words were an arrow to his heart as tears from decades of sadness, anger, and hurt threatened to fall. The world seemed to blur around him as his senses were solely focused on the man in front of him.

“The things you mentioned are in the past. It's time for you to move on and not let them plague your mind.”

Sethos leaned closer, accidentally making Scara’s hat fall off his head. The latter could hardly care as he felt Sethos comb his fingers through his hair and his breath on his face. Not to mention the soft lips that were barely a millimeter from his own.

“You aren't useless, Scara.”

Sethos’s warm breath hit him in the face as he spoke.

“You aren't a nobody either. Since our first interaction with one another, I was obsessed with you. Your hat. Your past. Your attitude. But most importantly, what hid behind those stormy eyes of yours. And the more I got to learn about you, I began falling for you. I wanted you. I liked you. I love being with you. Your sassy attitude, you calling me a busy bee, I cherished those moments. In my eyes, you are the perfect being and you have a place in my heart. I will go to the ends of the world to fight with you. To be with you. To…love you.”

Sethos pushed forward, softly planting his lips on Wanderer’s. He melted into the kiss, kissing back with fervor as Sethos took the lead.

“Sethohh- mmm~”

Sethos smiled into Scara’s mouth, taking pride in making him fall apart. Taking it a step further, he licked his lips asking for entrance. When he met no resistance and instead Wanderer parted his lips, he dove right in.

“Se- mmph! Mmhmm~”

“Mmm~”

Sethos sucked his tongue, making him roll his eyes in ecstasy as he tangled his fingers in Sethos's hair. Sethos deepened the kiss, gently pushing his back to the ground.

“S- ahh! Mmm~ Aah! Mmphahh~”

“Mmochi~ Hah! Scaraah~ Mmm~ You have hah~ too many ngh~ na- aah~ names~”

They continued their make-out session, drowning in each other's embrace and letting out their feelings for one another.

They broke for breath after some time. Sethos towering over Wanderer with his arms on both sides of his head and the latter laying his head back on the grass looking up at Sethos. His face was flushed, complimenting the pink and orange hues of the sky and Scara couldn't help but reach out a hand towards his cheek, caressing him.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out.

A red tint started to spread to Sethos's ears and a shy smile started to form.

“M-Me?”

“snort. Yes, you.”

He wrapped his arms around Sethos, bringing him down to his chest.

“I hate how you make me feel so mushy inside."

There's no bite behind those words. Instead, love and affection.

“It's my job now, honey~”

“Argh, Sethos.”

“What? You call me a bee, I call you honey. Plus, you are so sweet-”

“I am not sweet.”

“Yes, you are. Especially your taste. Sweet like honey. No wonder I am a bee that is so attracted to you~”

Scara just groaned, his face flushed red. “Where did you even learn to kiss like that?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, that. Heh,” Sethos rubbed the back of his head, rolling off him and laying beside him.

“You know how they say the quiet ones are the interesting ones? I'm far from being quiet, but since being in the Temple of Silence, I tend to be alone in my thoughts a lot and my imagination runs wild. And when I first laid my eyes on you, I never stopped thinking what it would be like to kiss those lips of yours.”

Wanderer’s heart fluttered in his chest, knowing that Sethos was thinking of him from the first time they met.

“And how did it feel?” he asked, turning to him.

“We both know the answer to that.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Sethos chuckled, facing him. “Alright, if you really want to hear it. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. The moment just felt right. When our lips touched, a pleasant tingling sensation traveled down my spine. Having your lips locked on mine, it just felt like we were meant to be together. Oh! Your moans. Don’t get me started on your moans. They were sweet as hon-”

“Okay, you are just teasing and trying to make me flustered.”

“Maybe~ Is it working?”

“Not even.”

“You sure about that? What's that reddening on your ears?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“What do you think?”

“Oh, you are asking for it, annoying bee.”

“I'll like to see you- ack! Ahahaha! T-Tihihickling is cheheating!”

Scaramouche smirked, hearing his giggles as he tased his sides with ease. “Aw. Sucks to be you then~”

“Wahahait! Nohohoho fahahair!”

Scara draped himself over Sethos, lazily tracing random patterns from his shoulder blades to his neck to his chest and back again.

“Doesn't take much for me to make you giggle, little bee.”

“Hahahaha! Mohohochihi! Gehehet off mehehehe!” Sethos tried to roll around to no avail.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” Scara put on a fake thinking face for a few moments before he began to knead Sethos’s hips making him choke on a surprised laugh. “Nah.” A smug look crossed his face. “I want to do this all day~”

“GAhahaha! Nohohoho! You ahahare- NAHAHAHA! Nohot thahat SPOHOHOT!”

Sethos shrieked as his lover dug his fingers into his armpits causing him to clamp them down.

“You are losing, my love~” Wanderer teased, rubbing deep circles into his lover's armpits causing him to howl with laughter.

“AHAHAHA! HOHOHONEY! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”

“Oh really? Here, let me help. Tickle tickle tickle~”

“THAHAHAT’S NOHOHOT HEHELPING! YOU’RE MAHAHAKING IHIHIT WOHORSE!”

“How about this? Coochie coochie coo~”

“STAHAHAP TEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE! AHAHAHA!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Scara said, playing dumb.

“YOHUHU LIAHAHAR! YOU- GAHAHAHA! NOHOHO!”

Sethos squealed as Scara used his thumb to massage his upper ribs.

“PLEheaSE ScahahARA!”

“Oh, my ticklish, little bee. Begging already? We are barely getting started~”

He decided to have a little mercy on Sethos, slowing down, so he could take a breather.

“Thahank youhuhu,” he giggled out.

“I’ll tell you what,” Scara started. “If you don’t laugh for 5 minutes straight, you win the challenge and get to tickle me to your heart’s content. If you lose, get ready to be tickled without mercy.”

“Pfft, 5 minutes. I can handle that. Challenge accepted!”

Wanderer inwardly grinned, his scheme working as he kissed Sethos with passion. Being caught off guard, Sethos quickly recovered, returning the kiss, unaware of the one hand that was inching closer and closer to his side until-

“MMPHAHAHA!”

Perfect.

“Noho! Youhuhu caught mehe off guahard!”

“I win~” Scara cheekily said. “Seems like that was your best… what a pity.”

“You planned that from the start!” Sethos pouted.

He stuck his tongue out towards Sethos. “Bleh, I win and that is all that matters. Come here and give me my prize.”

He lunged toward Sethos, leaving him no time to escape before he crawled his fingers under his clothes and attacked his tummy.

“I’ll geHEt yOUhu bahACK! AhAHAhAha!”

“Keep on dreaming little bee~”

After what felt like an eternity to Sethos of Wanderer skittering his fingers along his sensitive spots and teasing him to oblivion, his lover let up, lying right beside him.

“Mouchehe, you’re a ruhuthlehess tihickler.”

“Heh, that means that I’m still good at it or you are just too ticklish for your own good, or maybe both.”

“Scaraaa.”

They both fell into a peaceful silence as they stared up at the now starry sky, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Sethos?” Wanderer’s voice was soft when he spoke his name.

“Hmm?”

“Your words from before, I wanted to hear someone say those words to me for so long.”

“Which ones? You being sweet?” Sethos teased.

“Sethos,” Scara groaned. “I’m trying to be vulnerable here.”

“Hehe. Sorry sorry,” he chuckled, turning towards him and hugging him.

“I’m talking about when you told me you’d take care of me,” Scaramouche continued, snuggling into his embrace. “How it’s not rotten work to you and how you love me.”

He took a breath before continuing.

“It's all I ever wanted. Someone to say those words to me.”

A shooting star raced through the sky, lighting up his eyes. Sethos saw hope and a new spark of life in those mesmerizing eyes of his.

“I know I’m a bratty character and that’ll probably never go away, but I love you. I truly love you, even if I don’t show it at times. And…and I’ll go to the ends of the world for you too.”

Sethos could see the tips of his ears reddening and he inwardly grinned at how cute he was before going in for a quick peck on the cheek.

“Mochi, I love you so much. You are so freakin cute right now. But in all seriousness, I’m happy that you are in my life and I can’t wait to spend all of it with you. My sweet, honey love.”

“Archons, you are going to be the death of me you mushy bee.”

Sethos brought their lips together for a slow and soft kiss. Knocking their foreheads softly together, both of them stared into each other’s eyes, enjoying the moment before pulling away. Sethos was the first to stand up, grinning from ear to ear. Wanderer shook his head in amusement, picking up his hat and setting it atop his head before reaching out towards his lover’s outstretched hand. They started their way back into the city, hand in hand with fingers entwined.

My Honey.

My Bee.

—

More questions are in the Google Form if you want to provide more feedback. Plus, the question for a potential smut fic. Thank you again for reading and your time :)

Link to Google Form

[scaranation]

Hiii saw you had requests open and I wanted to offer some of my Scaramouche brain rot cuz man this guy makes me soft.

Scara being a touch-starved bean that when their s/o first held his face gently he legitimately just sobbed and couldn't stop himself from letting some tears out.

Scara then just not being able to function without their s/o giving him soft kisses on their forehead and being patient and loving towards him and looking like an angry wet cat whenever they are missing or off doing something where he can't follow like he'd like for too long.

Scara grumpily just kinda adopting a pillow of choice as their cuddle buddy for the time apart or if their s/o simply just doesn't live with him (yet). Maybe even stealing a sweatshirt to keep close or wear it if it fits. Just something to be comforted for the time being.

Just Scara getting pampered and loved and him just getting so overwhelmed with happy feels that he doesn't know what to do with himself.

(sorry for the long ask I just really like soft Scara he deserves to be cuddled :') do what you will with the brain rot I just wanted to share, love your work! Please don't overwork yourself! ^^)

THIS IS SO ADORABLE OMG I LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO ADD ITS PERFECT 😭 how do u think like this touch-starved scara is the cutest thing im actually squealing rnnn (sorry for the v late response i got busy ahahah)

༊*·˚ 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄?

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader

Content: fluff, head cannons, slightly ooc but it’s clingy scara 🥺

The first time you held Scaramouche's face, you thought he hated it. His face contorted beneath your touch, and you retracted your hands - but his face followed them, his cheeks firmly pressing back into your palms.

You'd stare at him curiously as his eyes crinkled shut, mouth falling agape when tears began to slide down his cheeks. Cautiously, you’d thumb them away, feeling the smooth planes of his face crinkle as he squinted at you through his blurred vision. He was definitely embarrassed, but he couldn’t refuse your touch - it was a form of affection he’d never gotten to experience, and his sobs were almost ones of relief at finally finding someone who’d give him the love he craved.

Once he discovered the idea of physical affection, he couldn’t go without it. He liked to be touching you at all times, and would not-so-subtly sulk whenever you were too busy to give him those fluttering pecks on his face. Scaramouche would shyly put up a display of nonchalance as he pretended not to care, only finding himself somehow in your lap again. It was endearing, how touch starved he was - always craving your attention.

If you dared to go somewhere without him, he’d practically be pacing around during your absence, worrying and fuming at you for leaving him behind. Once you got back, you could’ve sworn he had his tail between his legs, invisible ears drooping as he reluctantly eased back into your embrace. Don’t get him wrong - he’s still mad, but he’s willing to forgive you for a kiss. He wouldn’t let you go for the next day at least, so don’t think about leaving him alone like that anytime soon!

When you were - much to Scaramouche’s ire - busy, he sought comfort through ways that didn’t involve clinging to you and hence risking you avoiding him for the rest of the day out of irritation. You were so tender and patient towards him, but all people had a limit. Scaramouche would sulk as he wallowed in self pity, holding himself close to one of your pillows. Sometimes, he’d take a nap on it, imagining that you were dreaming together - something about him resting his head where you’d rested yours was inherently comforting to him. If you caught him during those naps, he’d angrily leap up in embarrassment and scurry away. His heart would stutter as he fumbled on the spot when you went to search for him, holding him close again as you whispered reassurances into his ear.

“Don’t worry about it, Scara.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are!”

That was your cue to peck his lips as he froze up, overwhelmed. The poor thing’s barely come to terms with you being his, and reciprocation of that touch he needed made his whole brain judder to a stop. He was so adorable like this, utterly at a loss for what to do. Slowly, he’d kiss you back, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you close.

Scaramouche would steal any sweaters you made the mistake of leaving unattended - that woolly jumper you left on the couch? It’s gone the next day, added to your lover’s private collection. He’d return them after a while if your scent had faded, acting as though he wasn’t the culprit behind all your missing items of clothing.

At night, Scaramouche wouldn’t be able to sleep without you at his side. Even in the almost unbearable heat of summer, he’d have you entangled in his arms in an unrelenting grip. If you tried to wriggle away, he’d only whine in annoyance and clutch you closer, wriggling to position his face in your neck. Getting up to fetch a glass of water wasn’t an option, either - the vice grip he had on your wrist was enough of a warning. Even if you managed to escape that, you’d find him beside you at the kitchen in an instant. He’d groggily tug at your wrist to lead you back to bed, irritated at the interruption. Why did you need anything else, when you had him? He’d let out a sleepy huff, settling back down on the mattress with you (rightfully) returned to where you should be - next to him.

Although he might act shrewd, Scaramouche loses all rationality when it comes to you. If you’re not in his arms, you’re on his mind, and he wasn’t intending to let you go. Despite this, he’s still so easily flustered - although thankfully, he no longer defaults to crying whenever he’s overwhelmed with happiness. He’d be willing to begrudgingly share all his vulnerabilities with you, slowly opening up. Don’t tease him about it, though - he’s still prone to hissing at you, but he can’t really get mad at you.

After all, you’re the only one who can make him feel this loved.

[vastiitas]

cole wld vibe check the place-- with one of the first few things wld be spatial layout and biome which he'd sorta register subconsciously. I think his natural attention would then be recognizing vehicle-makes and pedestrians. The last thing he'd ever look at/consider wld be, signs, esp if theyre in another language-

how would ur character play geoguesser, what do they look at, or do they guess randomly-

[kkaewrites]

real or not real — nagi seishiro x reader !

warnings. indecent language, ooc nagi.

tropes. meet-ugly, enemies to lovers.

you hate nagi seishiro.

he was stone cold, often referred to as socially awkward— but you feel like those were just excuses to make up for his rude and nasty behavior. personally, you think he’s overrated just because he’s considered a soccer genius. of course, no one ever believes you. they think your hatred clouds your judgement (it obviously does not).

you first met him when you were in grade school, deskmates for the first day of class. he was shorter than you at that time, but aside from his height, everything about him stayed the same. he still has the same gunmetal gray eyes that’s either reflected with boredom or reflected by the screen of his gray nintendo gameboy. he still has the same white hair, as clean as the first drop of snow, but as wild as a lion’s mane.

to you, there was absolutely nothing about him that’s fascinating— he was the same as any average boy. playing mobile games was his favorite past time, so much so that you believed that it was his lifeline at one point. or so you’d assume. he always kept to himself and was left to his own devices (quite literally), most things that kids enjoy don’t seem to pique his interest. you guess those were the reasons why he didn’t have many friends.

no, scratch that— he didn’t have any friends.

at first you wondered why. if there’s one thing you noticed about him even at a very young age, it’s that he’s handsome. he doesn’t have to be the “rich kid” with amazing gadgets and fancy toys, or the “cool kid” who knows what right words to say and way to say it, but he’s nagi. he was conventionally attractive without even trying. however, that fact doesn’t seem to make up for the fact that he looks lonely.

so, you’ve devised a plan to talk to him.

“hey. sei-chan, wanna be my friend?” you’re everyone’s friend. the sunshine child, the one who always lends her classmate crayons or pencils, the kid with pigtails who smile at strangers for no reason. you’re the kid that everyone loves, and if by some miracle, someone hates you (which has never happened and will never happen)— everyone would simply take your side. you’re loved by all.

if nagi was shocked by your sudden proposal, his features didn’t show any signs of it. what he does is pause his current game and faces you. it’s the first time you’ve ever stared at him eye-to-eye. your heart jumps.

uh oh. is this what they call a crush?

eyes filled with hope, you patiently waited for nagi’s response. you expected him to utter “sure” wearing his usual monotone voice, but it doesn’t come. and what he says instead ruins you. your heart does a somersault and tumbles, crashing onto the pavement and breaking into tiny, gliterring pieces. it did not feel good.

“no thanks. i despise people like you.”

you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong at that very moment. maybe you were too blunt, too cheery, too whatever — just something too much to be able to upset someone like nagi seishiro, who doesn’t feel strongly about anything or anyone. you didn’t have the courage to ask him what you’ve done wrong because your vision blurs. you always reckoned that it was due to anger, but your mother who saw you run home with tear-streaked cheeks says otherwise.

you still don’t know how you managed to piss off nagi, even until your very first year of college. after grade school, you never saw him again. you heard he studied at some prestigious high school but that was the end of it, you never really asked because you had no interest whatsoever. you somehow managed to assure yourself that there was no way you’d ever cross paths with him once again— so why is he here?

why, of all places, would he be your deskmate for your politics class?

at this point, you thought maybe the gods above despised you, too. did they hate you enough to not only be schoolmates, not only be classmates with this man, but to be deskmates? hate is the only logical explanation for this fucked-up coincidence. you’re not keen on fates or invisible strings so you’re sure this was just a punishment for you.

oh god. you hate it so much. you hate him so much.

without a word, you took the seat right next to him, taking the opportunity while he’s sound asleep. you’re not sure why he would take politics as his subject, because as far as you know about him, all he ever cares about is his mobile games. maybe soccer as well, but that’s not exactly related to politics, either.

when the professor enters the class, you found no reason to wake him up. he could get screamed at for all you care, but there was no way you’d ever converse with him at your own accord. because the only way you’d ever survive sitting next to him for the whole semester is by not acknowledging him at all. you can do that. you can avoid talking or looking at him. he’s not that talkative (and he’s not even awake) to begin with.

until your plan crashes and burns.

he turns out to be your partner for a school project— a big one, at that. you considered going solo, but the whole point of the project is to make sure two people are working together. it was a community development kind of plan, so unless he works with you and you work with him, you’d be getting an F for your politics class. that, you can’t have. even if it meant talking to him and enduring his presence.

he wakes up right after the class ended and you could barely contain your scoff. he sat through the whole 2 hour lecture just like that, does he have no care for his grades? doesn’t matter. it’s none of your business if he fails, that simply means that you won’t see him much anymore (which is a win for you).

you sighed. he should’ve been paired with someone else. why did it have to be you? why did it have to be your deskmate? and why did he have to be your deskmate? it was too much. how could you ever work with someone you hate? with someone who hates you?

you’re going to fail politics. you’re 100% sure of that. there was just no way that you’d ever accomplish this task— or you could beg your professor to let you switch partners. or you could ask your classmates to let you switch... but who would ever want someone as lazy as nagi to be their partner? fuck.

from the corner of your eye, you saw nagi yawn. it took all of you to swallow your pride whole and gulp it down to ever approach him, but it’s better than not trying. if you fail, at least you tried. even if it meant battling your inner demons.

so, clutching your bag straps tightly as if it would ever help, you turned to your sleepy deskmate. “nagi. it seems like we’re partners for the politics subject. i’m expecting you’d cooperate willingly so that—”

“sorry,” he interrupts with half lidded eyes. “do i know you?”

“you’re going to rip your paper to shreds.” nagi commented from behind you, peering over your shoulder as you aggressively wrote on your notebook. you imagined the page to be nagi’s face as you cruelly stabbed it, not caring about your pen or your paper’s state. you cannot believe that for some reason, you’re still stuck with the snow white haired guy. you’ve tried everything there is to get rid of him but nothing seemed to work.

“right,” your teeth could break with how hard you clenched your jaw. “will you be free later?”

“oh. i have soccer training.”

of course he fucking has soccer training.

you gave him the strongest deadpan you could muster before exhaling a deep breath. once to calm yourself down, twice to clear your head and thrice in hopes of losing all of your lungs’ air so you could shrivel and die on the spot. nagi seems to be unaware of your thoughts— and even if he had understood your facial expression and body language, he simply did not care.

“i’ll be free after, though.” he adds, as if you’d ever know that information if he hasn’t uttered it. this at least gives you the sense that he might care about the group project, and that he won’t be a complete inconvenience.

“okay. let’s meet up at the coffee shop near school. will you be done at 8?”

“yeah. but,” he pauses. “i thought we’d just do the project at my place.”

“who died and made you king?” you blurt out before you could think of a proper response. you wondered if you’d ever feel so strongly about a person the same way you did for nagi. he was driving you mad.

“what?” his clueless face almost made you feel guilt— almost. but you ignored the sensation and frowned instead. the least you could do was give him a clearer sentence:

“there’s no way i’d ever step a foot at your house.”

“it’s fine. no one’s home anyway.”

“that’s even worse.”

“huh? oh. don’t worry. you’re not my type.”

the conversations you somehow hold with nagi infuriates you. he has this way of making you feel like shit for some reason, and he does it with so much nonchalance you’d wonder if he insults everyone. but you know better and you know he definitely doesn’t, because you’re the only one he treats like this. it’s the absolute worst.

what does he mean you’re not his type? were you not pretty enough? not tall enough? not skinny enough? not fair enough? not what? ever since grade school, you’ve always thought that he sees you as someone “too much” and yet as he stands here with you, in an empty classroom— you wondered how you could be “too much” and yet be “not enough” at the same time.

and since when did you care about how he views you? since you were kids, apparently. because the words he would utter up until this day shatters you all the same. and you hate him— so goddamn much. but beyond all that anger, there’s grief. it doesn’t subside even as you grabbed all your things and shoved 6”3 foot tall nagi aside.

for some reason, he shows up at the café you mentioned at exactly 8 o’clock in the evening. you were typing away on your laptop, while a cup of caramel macchiato and a bunch of scattered papers littered your desk. you didn’t expect him to come, and it would’ve been better if he didn’t. but somehow, he’s here and he looks a little apologetic.

“are you upset?” he asks. his sports bag slumped over his shoulder as he stands right next to you. there’s an unoccupied seat in front but he doesn’t take it— at least, not yet. his whole, undivided attention was poured onto you and you alone. it makes you squirm in your seat, so you decided not to look up from your screen to greet him.

“no. take a seat.”

“you look upset.”

“do you want me to be upset?”

“no.”

“then shut up.”

wordlessly, he takes the seat right in front of you and slouches. he looks battered and fatigued from practice, but he doesn’t say a word to complain (to your absolute shock). you guessed that he walked straight from the field to the café without even changing or taking a shower, because his clothes clung to him like a shirt a few sizes smaller.

“shouldn’t you go change?”

“yeah. but i left my clean clothes at my apartment.”

fifteen minutes pass and you suddenly closed your laptop shut, eyes fixated on nagi’s gunmetal gray ones. he looks surprised from your sudden move, a look that you didn’t expect to recognize due to how miniscule it was. you felt bad for him. the café was getting too cold for comfort and all he wore was his jersey (one that’s drenched with his sweat). if you stayed any longer, he’d probably catch a cold.

why you care, however, that was not a question you could currently answer.

“let’s just go to your place.”

despite his constant need to laze around, his place wasn’t a complete mess— well, yes, there are (presumably dirty) clothes on the floor and used dishes on the sink, but you’ve seen worse. you expected his apartment to be so much worse. it seems like he’s not a complete monkey to not understand basic hygiene and cleanliness.

your only problem is that nagi seems to be bored. you caught him dozing off the coffee table as you ramble about your politics project, and you don’t even have to ask if he cares at all— because he’s trying to hide his obvious distate and boredom. so, even though you’d rather proceed to do your work rather than humoring this 6 foot tall giant, you pipe up:

“wanna play a game?”

“what game? i don’t like games that require effort.”

“it’s called real or not real. we take turns in guessing if the other person’s sentence is real or not real.”

“sounds like a pain.” he groans.

“you know what truly is a pain?” you turned to look at him. “this politics project. so take it or leave it. i’m kind enough to give you a break.”

“shouldn’t we play a different game? a mobile game, maybe.”

“what about a wager, then? the winner’s the boss.”

the game was a piece of cake— to you, at least. nagi’s an open book and it’s easy to read him. you explained that the mechanics goes like this: you take turns in giving very specific sentences about yourself, and the other party has to guess whether it’s real or not real. five wrong guesses means that the other person wins. so the only thing you have to do is to make sure that nagi loses first.

unfortunately, you were down to four mistakes while nagi only had one. the game wasn’t going like how you imagined it would be. how were you supposed to know that nagi keeps a cactus as a pet? how were you supposed to know that he only figured out how to play soccer when he was in high school? how were you supposed to know that he’s got a picture of his crush under his study table? (you still had no idea who that crush is, and it quite literally shocked you). how were you supposed to know that someone like nagi seishiro, was capable of liking someone romantically?

on the other hand, out of the six sentences you threw at him— he had only guessed wrong once. you don’t know how he’s so good at this game, too. it was either he knew awfully a lot about you, or was really good at second guessing things. you’re pretty sure it was the former. how could he know a lot about you, when he doesn’t even know your name?

“real or not real: i hate you.” you stated. his nonchalance was putting you off, but you’re not sure if you were uneasy because of it or if you felt guilty for saying that sentence out loud. you told yourself you could just take it back and act as if it’s not real but nagi himself looked so convinced when he said:

“real.”

he was right once again. but you didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whole thing when his sentence comes.

“real or not real: i want to kiss you right now.”

the silence was so loud it pierces your ears— or maybe you have gone deaf with that sentence. you’re not sure of anything at the moment because it feels like your senses were slowly slipping from your own fingers. if nagi was joking, his face didn’t show any signs of him laughing soon. but maybe you should know better, maybe he could joke like that with a straight face.

so you waited for a few minutes, for him to tell you that it was a joke— that it’s not part of the goddamn game because how could it be part of it? but nothing comes. his eyes were simply on you as he patiently awaits your answer. your make it or break it answer, at that. and it only dawns on you that this is real, this is his sentence and he’s expecting you to play. he’s expecting you to answer real or not real. because you were the one who proposed the game in the first place.

you wanted to scream and to run away, but you were rooted on the spot. time stood still and it froze you under nagi’s unblinking gunmetal gray eyes, as if the situation’s not bad at all. but this is a trick question, your rational mind says. he told you when you were younger that he despises people like you, asked you if he knows you upon meeting at your politics class, and told you that you’re not exactly his type— so there’s no way he’d want to kiss you. right?

you meet his gaze. right, nagi?

against your better judgement to think it through, you suddenly blurted: “real.”

his face doesn’t shift and nor did the mood of the room. your heart was beating erratically as if you’re not facing the guy you clearly hated with a passion, but the silence ensues. you were screaming at yourself, why the fuck did you say real? were you out of your goddamned mind? were you crazy? the answer’s clearly not real!

nagi, however, only looks away. “huh.”

“what?”

“i almost won. what a pity.”

“the answer’s real?”

“yeah.” he tilts his head and answers as if you were stupid. as if you were the one who’s weird and doesn’t get what’s happening— but maybe that really is the case. because you’re mind hasn’t caught up yet. what does he mean the answer’s real? does that mean he wants to kiss you, right now? how is that possible after all the things he had said to you?

you laugh. not the quiet giggle or the chuckle you were accustomed to doing, but a belly laugh— one that could rival a hyena’s. because this was funny. too funny. he’s definitely joking and you’ve only figured out that now.

“okay, fine. you got me.”

“what do you mean?”

“the joke. you’re so serious that i almost missed it.”

confusion marrs his face. “what joke?”

“about the kiss.”

“i wasn’t joking.”

“well, i’d rather have you joking than for that sentence to be real.”

“you hate me that much?”

he almost sounds hurt, but you knew better. how could he be hurt, out of all people? if there’s anyone who’s hurt, it would be you. how can he say all those hurtful things with so much nonchalance and tell you things like he wants to kiss you? how cruel must he be to toy with you like this? it was not funny. none of this was funny.

and it reminds you of your childhood— of your little crush on nagi that never seemed to go away. somehow, the little you screams that you should not fall for something like this. that it is easier to hate nagi than to love him. that it is easier to stand up from your seat, smile, and tell him: “yeah. i do.”

it has been a week. maybe two. or three? you’ve lost count. you’ve never visisted nagi again after the whole real or not real game, and you never saw him often because he’s been excused. something about soccer championship that you didn’t bother listening to. besides, you liked the comfortable silence now that he’s not around.

your phone dings. and it’s from an unknown number. but somehow, you guessed it has something to do with nagi.

unknown

real or not real: i’m sorry

oh. that’s right. the game technically hasn’t finished yet because no one has won. you told yourself numerous time that you won’t reply to his message, but against your better judgement, you somehow still did.

you

real

when your class ended, nagi seishiro was right outside. he was panting and sweaty— as if he ran just to get where you were. but this is nagi we’re talking about. there’s no way he’d actually do something like that, despite his lingering look on you. what’s that supposed to mean, anyway?

breathless, he speaks up to catch your attention. you were busy stuffing your books inside your locker, back against him as you completely ignored his presence. you did not say hi. you did not meet his gaze. but even without direct contact, your heart was drumming against your rib just by knowing that he’s near. what the heck.

“we won the game.”

there’s a lot of responses that entered your mind at that very moment. entry #1, who asked? entry #2, who cares? entry #3, why are you telling me this? and the list goes on. you’re pretty sure none of them were positive— but this was all so confusing. why was nagi chasing after you like a lost puppy who lost its mom? what’s he going for here?

“that’s good for you.” you slammed your locker shut and walked away. nagi eventually follows after you, as if there’s something in his throat that he wants to let out, but you didn’t give him the chance to. you’re sure nothing that would come out of his mouth is good. you’re sure he’s running after you because of the politics project, or because he wants to annoy you.

and you hate it. you hate him. your gut twists at the thought of him running after you like this is some shoujo manga and that’s the annoying part. how is your heart flipping with your every waking step if you hate him so much? you’re supposed to hate nagi, god fucking damn it.

you finally stop in your tracks, whipping around to face the 6 foot tall soccer player. to get it all over with.

“is there something you need to tell me?”

“we haven’t finished the game.”

“i don’t care about the game. leave me alone.”

“it’s your turn. your real or not real.”

this was stupid no matter what angle you look at it. it was just some game you made up and decided to try with nagi. it didn’t mean anything to you because all you wanted by then was to get his attention, so why did it matter so much to him? you don’t get it. you’re not sure how nagi circuits because everything he does confuses you. and before you know it, your irrational side takes over. reason left your body when you blurted the words:

“stop it. fucking stop this.”

why are you so persistent?

“was it fun to toy with me? was it fun when you told me you despised me when we were kids? was it fun when you told me i was not your type? i don’t fucking get it.”

you were angry. mad. seething. your blood boiled underneath your skin and you feared that it would leave your whole being in nothing but dust. through it all, you’re also confused. perplexed. lost. your mind can’t understand the fine line between hate and love anymore. your feelings overlap with each other and merges— you’re not sure what you’re feeling now. you’ve wondered how long you’ve buried this string of emotions you’ve had for nagi. that would explain why you’re nothing but a ticking time bomb now.

“if my playing with my feelings give you so much fun— then do it elsewhere. i have no time for things like this, nagi.”

“but i’m not playing, though. i’ve liked you for quite awhile now.”

excuse me?

“oops. i accidentally gave the answer to my next sentence. what a pain,” he scratches the nape of his nexk and looks away.

how the fuck am i supposed to respond to that?

“do you expect me to believe you?”

“i’ve got no reason to lie,” he shrugs. “plus, lying’s a pain. i don’t like it.”

“but— what you said back then...”

“i, well. i go blank when i talk to you. i guess. my stomach flips when you’re around and my throat goes dry.” nagi doesn’t look at you once while he utters this. tinge of red coats the tip of his ears and this is where you think ‘this is it’. he’s not lying. this is real, and you know that much— nagi never looked nervous until now. you think maybe that explains why he would avoid your gaze and why he would say the most confusing things. you think maybe this is nagi. the socially awkward nagi. the one who can’t talk to people properly nagi.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty. i despise pretty things because it makes me feel things. it’s a pain.” he mumbles. “of course i know you. of course i know your name. but it’s the first thing i thought to say because your face was too close. you’re prettier up close.”

he should stop talking. he should drop it all together and just kiss you, but you could never say these words because you haven’t wrapped your head around the whole thing yet. nagi likes you. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi short circuits when you’re around. nagi thinks you’re pretty. nagi’s actually confessing. nagi likes you. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes you.

“i don’t like pretty things. that’s not my type at all. but reo said i might be in love with you.” he finally turns to look at you and tilts his head. your face burns— and you swore it was because of the remnants of your anger, but everyone else could tell that it was not. your heart does a somersault, but this time it does not drop. it stays in the air, lingering like nagi’s perfume scent, until he carefully waits for it to land on his palms when he said: “i think he’s right. i’m in love with you.”

for the duration of your game with nagi and with all the truths shared between the both of you— this is probably the most real out of them. this is the only time he doesn’t ask the question ‘real or not real’ because his face says it all. his face says that it’s the real and raw truth. his face says that you must believe this because he’s not making it up. it was the first time you could read his expression. it was the first time that you’re not confused by nagi.

“fucking dumbass,” you comment. “that’s not how it works.”

you reach over to grab his collar, on your highest tip-toes because of his height. you’re pretty sure you’re the only ones present in the secluded corridor but the clamors of your heart makes an illusion of people cheering for you. somewhere in the parallel worlds of your universe, you think maybe those cheers exist. it only silences when you pulled nagi down with you, whispering:

“i hope you still want to kiss me, then.”

when he closes in the gap between the both of you, his answer was loud and clear.

i do. always.

notes. YES YES YES i finally finished this long ass fic! i’ve been writing it since forever & im just SO glad i finally get to finish it 🥹 as u can see, there is nothing on my mind rn but nagi seishiro. he’s literally living in my head rent-free and i’m not complaining. i love him too much. i hope u enjoyed this ‼️ as always, likes & reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you so so much for ur patience & love for this blog ❤️

ִ ࣪𖤐 masterlist !

[currentlyeatingrocks]

(Ooc// posting this a second time because I wanted to change some stuff. @justsigma-bsd (also @oscarsgallery bc u told me not to do this))

It had been about three or four days since it happened, he didn’t even know how he’d gotten here. What had started as a short walk had led him to wander a little further than usual, he couldn’t recognise this part of the city for quite some time. Eventually a few things looked familiar, things he’d only seen in his nightmares as of late, nothing he’d passed frequently but he’d seen that place before. That should have been the first sign to turn back, that he’d taken a wrong turn, but he was stubborn.

Most of what happened after that had ended up a blur in his mind. From the moment he’d spotted someone he thought he’d recognised he should have ran but by the time he knew who it was it was far too late. He knew he didn’t say anything because why would he, it was like being around him now was no different than before. He remembered being told so many things. The man had seemed disgusted at Karma’s new freedom and just had to ruin it.

He had absolutely no clue as to what happened between then and now, ending up back where he never wanted to go back but he didn’t really know how to say no to his bosses orders yet. He just went back to how he used to act purely from the familiarity of it. He had his phone taken off him so he couldn’t even call someone else, plus he’d been collared again and he kept trying to rip it off or loosen it which had landed him with a few painful repercussions.

So here he was, somewhere he hated and being watched closely by the man he hated but couldn’t fight. Trying to just do his work and ignore the constant glares and comments on any mistakes. Just trying to get food tonight and not break down at any moment. He thought he had finally found freedom and would be able to live by himself but now he was back here doing exhausting tasks to keep himself safe.

He’d managed to finish enough work to get a break, curling up in the corner and watching his boss very carefully. Trying to make sure nothing bad happened to him and to keep himself in line so he could eat, he’d barely had anything since he’d been thrown back in here and would do absolutely anything he could for a meal. His voice was gone, he wouldn’t speak unless directed to, would barely move unless directed to either. He’d be forced back into that state, trying to drown out emotions or any show of pain.

[dixons-sunshine]

i requested for scud but you never replied so im gonna req gf finding out scud works for a blade again

Apologies, Baby | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Long ago, back when you were only ten years old, vampires murdered your parents and left you an orphan, forcing you into foster care. You hated the species with a passion, and wanted nothing to do with them. So when your boyfriend revealed that he was working for a half-breed, you didn't know how to feel.

Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: For some reason your first request never popped up in my inbox, so I'm sorry I didn't see it back then. I hope this is somewhat decent enough to make up for it (I don't really like this). Also, I feel like Scud is a little ooc in this, but I wanted to write a tender moment for our favourite stoner.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Baby, could you please just listen to me? It's not like you think, okay?”

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh, clutching your side tightly as you limped away from your boyfriend. Bruises littered your skin, the recent vampire attack you had found yourself in taking its painful toll on you.

Everything was a blur. One minute, you were walking back to your apartment after a long shift at work. The next, some creep in a mask—later revealed to be a bloodsucking monster—grabbed you and forced you into his car. And a few hours, maybe even days, later, a mysterious man with freakish abilities came to your rescue. Thankfully, the vampire hadn't bit you, but he did take great pleasure in hearing your screams, so he tortured you. Hence the injured side you were currently clutching to.

You had always known of vampires' existence. They were the reason you became an orphan at the mere age of ten years old. And to top it off, nobody believed you when you told them the real story. They were the reason why you were sent to a facility to treat your "absurd beliefs".

You hated vampires and anything to do with them. So it came as a great shock to you that when the mysterious man, who had introduced himself as Blade, took you back to his workshop to tend to your wounds and you found your boyfriend there. The same boyfriend who told you that he was too sick to hang out after your shift. The same boyfriend who lied to you about his job. The same boyfriend who revealed that he was working for a guy who was half vampire.

To say you were pissed would be an understatement.

Scud hurried to you, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist in his hand. He spun you around, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes gazed down at you, begging, pleading for understanding. For you to listen to him.

“Babe, please. Just... let me clean you up while I explain everything. You deserve that much,” Scud begged, frowning deeply as guilt swarmed around in his beautiful blue eyes.

You shook your head. “Josh, I—”

“Please,” he pleaded. “Just... Please.”

You sighed, giving him a reluctant nod. “Alright,” you agreed, pulling your hand from his grip. “You have until I'm bandaged up.”

In no time at all, you were seated on top of what you assumed was Scud's workbench while your boyfriend carefully helped you out of your shirt, leaving you clad in only your bra. The wound on your side was deep, but it luckily didn't look like it needed stitches.

“You probably want that explanation now, huh?” he asked, breaking the silence well he brought a washcloth with lukewarm water closer to clean your wound.

You hissed in pain when the cloth made contact with your side. “Yeah,” you said through gritted teeth. “I was promised an explanation.”

A few beats of silence passed. Scud sighed and shut his eyes momentarily, as if gathering his thoughts. “You remember that week before we got together, when I came home from my hiking trip and I was all messed up?” When you nodded, he continued. “I was attacked by two bloodsuckers. They tore into me and wanted to drain me of my blood. The only reason I came out of that situation alive was because B saved me. He brought me back here and patched me back together. I owe him a debt because of that.”

You frowned and brought a hand to rest on Scud's cheek. He instantly nuzzled against your hand, sighing in content at the warm feeling. You didn't know this, but when Blade had relayed your full name to him over the radio, he was out of his mind with worry. He nearly abandoned everything just to go after Blade and make sure that he brought you back in one piece. You were important to him. You were the only girl who would put up with him and his habits with a smile on your face. You were the only girl that actually ever meant anything to him.

“B saw what I could do, what gadgets I could make, and he decided that I would make a great addition to his team, so to speak,” Scud continued, withdrawing from your touch and switching over to clean the wounds on your hands. “It was a great opportunity for me. This gig meant that I could make things, and not just those shitty fucking mini flamethrowers I made back in college. I mean actually make things. I felt wanted, needed, like I could actually be a part of something bigger for once. That I wouldn't be such a big fucking letdown. I wanted to tell you, especially since I know how you feel about vampires, but B swore me to secrecy. He said that working for him came with risks, and if the bloodsuckers were to find out about you, they would use you to get to me. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.”

“So you had to lie to me to keep me safe,” you concluded, realisation dawning on you.

“Please believe me when I say that I didn't want to,” he said hurriedly, halting his movements with the bandage and looking deeply into your eyes. “I never wanted to lie to you. Hurting you was something I didn't want to do, ever. I love you so much.”

A minute of silence passed between you. Scud was anxious, his hands nervously fidgeting with the bandage that was now wrapped securely around your hand. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

“So this Blade guy... He hunts vampires?” you finally asked, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah,” Scud confirmed, nodding his head.

“Why? Isn't he like them?”

“Yes, in a sense. He has all of their abilities, but only the good ones. The only bad thing of his is that he inherited their thirst. Thankfully we have a serum that helps him with that. B's cool, I swear.”

You pondered over his words for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “I don't like it,” you began, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer, much to Scud's suprise and great delight. “You know how I feel about vampires, but that Blade guy did save my life, so I guess he's okay.”

Scud gave you a smile. “He is, I promise you.”

“So as long as you promise me that you'll stay safe, and promise to keep me in the loop with what happens around here, I guess I can learn to live with it. You look like you're enjoying yourself.”

Scud smiled brightly and brought you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You're my little stoner baby. Nothing's gonna change that.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[joelsmochi]

closer

rating: E 18+ pairing: tortured artist!Joel x black!girly!f!reader summary: Joel hits a creative block with a mural, leading him down a road of discovery and intimacy in ways he's never felt before. warnings: au/no outbreak, unspecified drug use + marijuana use, unprotected piv, sex while under the influence, consenting adults!!! age is not specified but we can assume joel is mid 40s, brief mentions of death + abusive relationships, ooc!Joel (he is not the same person he was 1/2 pill ago…), third person pov but most of it is from joel’s perspective, very fluffy sex they may have said i love you wc: 5.3k a/n: Happy New Year everybody! This was inspired by Closer by Goapele and Prisoner by The Weeknd & Lana Del Rey plus I was thinking too hard about the time I ate an edible that had too much THC for me to handle and I produced whatever this is. Hopefully tortured artist!Joel hasn’t happened yet because I felt creative with this one…

masterlist

ᝰ

The frayed paintbrush relentlessly slapped against the concrete wall, coating the discolored brick in thick layers of different browns, reds, and whites. Opaque smoke blurred his vision, yet he only let it inspire the strokes of his hand, creating a beautiful image that wasn’t clear to him yet.

Before he knew it, the sun had set; he sat on his hard leather sofa, massaging the twinge that had settled into his wrist while his face wore a disappointed scowl. He was displeased with his progress, the blob that was already half dry on the wall of his loft.

A rumble snuck into his stomach, forcing him to stand up and absentmindedly walk into the kitchen area. However, his disappointment grew when he opened the fridge to find nothing suitable for a proper meal. As he glared at the half-eaten yogurt and scarce 24-pack of beer, he decided to go and get Chinese food.

He lit up a cigarillo to accompany his walk around the block and across the street, tossing whatever was left into a sewer drain just in time for him to open the door to the restaurant.

“Miller,” a worker greeted with a smile, “your usual?”

Unknown to him, the smell of his cigar caught the attention of a waiting customer. She waited until he was done chatting with the employee to ask, “Cream?”

He did a double take, unsure if she was talking to him at first. She was tall, maybe five foot nine or five foot ten, with big hair and brown skin, and dressed in something far too lovely for her to be eating Chinese for dinner.

“I’m sorry?”

“You smell like cream-flavored cigars,” she said, sounding amused.

He felt unsure of how to respond, not wanting to seem rude, watching her diamond earrings gleam from the low yellow lighting. He paid for his food and answered. “Yeah, just had one.”

“Black and mild or swisher?”

“Blacks,” he answered, growing a little uneasy from the stranger questioning him despite the mundane topic. 

“My favorite,” she boasted, earning another look from him after he put his change in the tip jar. “They’re much smoother.”

The man didn’t respond, only offering a tight smile in return. The pair stood a few feet apart silently, listening to people chattering and utensils clanking behind the counter as they waited.

She smelled like expensive brown sugar perfume and cocoa butter, a sickly sweet combination that tickled his sense of smell. Her scent was reminiscent of a freshly baked cookie a kid couldn’t wait to dive into. She was dressed in a lovely skirt and a prissy top paired with a mix of gold and silver rings and necklaces and bracelets — two colors he usually hated paired together, but somehow, she made it blend beautifully.

Her makeup was soft, or so it seemed. It wasn’t too heavy, but her eyebrows were bold, as was the line drawn around her vermilion border. He noticed she blinked slowly but held her eyes wide as if she anticipated something to happen.

The employee’s voice brought the two adults out of their daydreams.

“Beef and broccoli and chow mein?” They asked.

The artist waited kindly for the woman to grab her bagged styrofoam container before reaching for his own; he walked a few feet behind her, suddenly feeling bad for his cold demeanor earlier once they were outside.

“You want one?” He called after her before she got too far away; she turned around with a frown, confused at his offering.

He reached into his pocket and held up a couple of fresh cigars. She grinned, secretly desperate for a smoke. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she strutted back towards him. She strutted like a cat, one leg crossing the other.

She allowed the man with the messy hair the privilege of placing the stick between her plump lips, keeping her eyes on his as he watched where he was lighting.

She took a long drag, waiting for him to get his cigarette lit before asking, “What’s your name?”

His eyebrow cocked up, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was amused. But he answered anyway.

“Joel.” He sharply inhaled; she responded with her name and a smile, thick smoke spilling out from the spaces between her teeth as she gently exhaled. “You from around here?”

“No,” she said, “I like to travel. See new places. Find new things… Right now, I’m fixated on museums—art museums precisely.”

That piqued his interest. “Art? What kind of art d'you like?”

“Any art that speaks to me.”

Joel smirked at her answer as if it were funny. “Oh yeah? What speaks to you?”

Instead of her usual quick response, she pondered momentarily, trying to locate proper words to avoid rambling. “Suffering or excitement.”

He could only narrow his eyes at the vague response, but she spoke again before he could ask for an elaboration.

“You must like art,” she guessed correctly.

“I’m uh…” And there’s a long pause; the rhetorical shame of confessing what his job was had risen, but for what purpose? After a short internal debate, he finally admitted, “I’m an artist myself.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, which Joel found adorable. She asked him various questions: what kind of art he created, how long he’d been painting, his favorite creations…

He admired her interest in the subject and how she listened carefully and intently, clearly trying to understand as much as possible about him.

“How do you stay inspired all the time?”

Shit.

Joel’s mind ran blank for a few seconds, and he watched the woman’s face contort into confusion. She worried she’d brought up an unhealed wound and persisted that he didn’t need to answer.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Joel assured, “I’ve honestly been at a block lately…”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “Do you do anything to help get over that?”

He sucked on his teeth as he thought of an appropriate answer, yet nothing came to mind. He couldn’t lie even if he wanted to. “Just wait for it to pass.”

“…Could... Could I see your art?”

For the first time, she seemed to be shy. Her teeth grimaced, and eyebrows crooked out of fear of rejection, but Joel was sure he was far more nervous than she was.

"Uh, sure..." He said hesitantly. "What I have at home is nothing special, but-"

"I'm sure it's beautiful," she interrupted. "I'm free right now if that works."

ᝰ

This was unlike him: inviting a girl he'd just met into his home. She had something that enamored him. What was it, he wondered with each passing minute, was it her beauty or curiosity? Was it the way she smiled or how sweet her voice sounded? He couldn't ponder for much longer as she had already begun complimenting his home.

"A loft," she said while taking in the brick walls of his home that were littered with several paintings that all seemed to be works in progress. "It's cozy." Joel watched as her painted nails gently trailed over the armrest of his stiff couch just before she reached up to feel a painting of what seemed to be a little girl.

His staring made the woman laugh, and while he could admit he was being a bit precarious, he just wanted to ensure she wouldn't mishandle that particular piece. She didn't. She just reached to stroke the texture meant to resemble the girl's curly hair; she touched it for only a moment before pulling away and turning around.

After realizing the painting was sacred to him, she asked, "Is that someone you know?"

His shoulders and chest rose as he sucked in a melancholic breath, and she couldn't ignore the sadness that swarmed his eyes.

The woman was satisfied with no answer and moved on quickly. "May I eat with you?"

Joel gave her a stiff nod, his thoughts still filled with the traumatic memories of the girl in the photo.

They sat quietly and slowly ate their food, the lack of heat from their containers making the meal invaluable. The silence comforted him as it felt much different than the cold silence he was used to. No. Her silence was warm and comforting... Like a mother caring for a sick or sad or sleeping child. She didn't offer any awkward glances or stiff smiles. She didn't hide her joy or her optimism despite his distant demeanor.

Her eyes weren't as big as they were just an hour ago. Perhaps the food made her sleepy, he thought.

"Where ya from?" He figured he should at least be a good host.

"Rockport. It's a small town in Massachusetts. You?"

"Born and raised here," he answered.

"Really?" She squinted at him while poking at broccoli with a fork. "Never wanted to leave?"

Shrugging, he said, "Thought about leaving, never needed to."

"Is that painting supposed to be the same girl?"

She pointed to the spontaneous mural partly done on the big red wall opposite to them. He looked at it, forming different opinions and thoughts on his work.

"No. Not entirely sure what that one is yet," he grunted. "Needed to paint something, but I can't quite figure it out yet."

"You should do a self-portrait," she suggested with a wide grin. "I'd love to see how you see yourself."

"Nah, if I did that, it'd just be a college-ruled notebook with a bunch'a scribbles in it."

She chuckled at his pessimism, gaining a confused look from him. "So? Maybe someone would see something between the scribbles."

"I don't like painting myself," he said firmly.

She couldn't care less about his seriousness; she saw his need for perfection and keeping busy with work. Seeing the distress on the average person's face wasn't unfamiliar to her; all she wanted to do was take it away.

"Your art is lovely, Joel," she spoke truthfully, "For what it's worth, I think you'd paint yourself beautifully."

He chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, taking in her warm smile and gentle words.

"You're very kind," he admitted, "thank you."

The temptress walked and stood in front of the mural to admire the thick blobs of paint that were still tacky. She saw the vision but just as quickly saw the block.

"You seriously do nothing to help the creative blocks?"

With a slight frown, he shook his head to confirm. "Just try working on something else until I find my rhythm again."

"Why not? Why not music or movies or going outside for more than Chinese on a Thursday evening?"

Feeling a bit antagonized, Joel scowled at her. "I paint what's in my head, not around me."

"Maybe that's the problem." She sat close to him on the floor and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Maybe you've painted all you know, and you're stuck right now because there's nothing new inside that pretty little head a'yours."

"Flattery only gets you so far, sweetheart."

"It got me in your apartment, did it not?"

His scowl grew, and he felt no need to hide his annoyance from her.

"Just tryna help," she smirked.

"I don't need your help."

"Clearly not," she simpered; she pulled a bag of ground weed from her purse and held it up for him to see. "Maybe you need Mary's help."

"You're fucking joking."

"It helps me," she said softly. "When I don't smoke, I'm a very anxious and shy person."

Joel's eyes fell to her hands, which were beginning to work the weed into a paper very carefully, watching her roll it precisely. "Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Mock me all you want, Joel, but I must say that even a couple of hits can make you feel ten times better."

"Not interested," he quipped.

"Well... If weed isn't your speed, then maybe..." She licked the paper shut and placed it on the table, then reached in her purse again for a bag containing different colored pills. "...ecstasy would be more fitting."

"You expect me to take drugs from a stranger?" He asked.

She leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "I'm no stranger, Joel. I'm your inspiration."

He found himself laughing at her choice of words, not paying her any mind as she climbed into his lap. She placed a pill between the rows of her teeth and bit down to break it in half, offering him whichever half was smaller.

"You don't have to if you really don't want to... But it will help."

Her voice was so enticing that Joel was sure he was already high from the affection she persisted in giving him.

"Help me paint?" He asked, still not entirely convinced.

"Help you create."

Joel thought about it: he had nothing left in his life to live for other than his talent for painting, and he even felt that it was being wasted on unproductive days and constant disappointments.

For months, all he wanted was to create one last masterpiece and to feel proud of it. If all it took was to give in to some strange form of peer pressure, then that's just what needed to be done.

Almost an hour later, however, his worries about art were set aside.

With his head lying in the pretty woman's lap, he tried remembering why he had been so angry before. He let her stroke the curly hairs on his head and trace his lips over and over again.

"You're doing good," she cooed gently.

"You're very, um," he swallowed between his heavy breaths, "nurturing."

He noticed the woman's eyebrow shift upwards, and an amused hum left her mouth. "Hm. No one's ever said that before."

"Really?" Joel began to realize how dry his throat became. "Well, it's a compliment."

"Thank you," she giggled. "Thirsty?"

"Mmhm," he moaned.

Reaching over to grab the water bottle on the floor, she took a long sip as she felt parched before holding his head up to help him drink some. He felt her sticky lip gloss around the rim and found himself latching even harder onto the plastic container.

She let him drink as much as he needed before closing the bottle and helping him stand up, urging him to paint something.

He felt a wave of heat envelope his body, the hairs along his arms and neck dancing along his skin. He wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny, so he tried to hold it in. He followed her around the room and watched the ends of her hair bend and curl around her arms. She opened a few paint bottles, squeezing some onto his stained palette and holding the brush out for him. She couldn't help but laugh at the elation in his wide eyes; he was definitely in a much better mood than before.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, not bothering with the meaningless utterance of words and just giving into his need to kiss her. She wasn't surprised by the gesture, inviting his tongue into her mouth for more. She tasted the cigar on his breath and lips, ignoring how bitter it seemed.

The paintbrush smeared itself against Joel's elbow, causing him to jolt back in shock, only to laugh when he realized the purple-coated paintbrush was bending on its own. He took it from her hand and approached the wall, immediately getting to work.

While he worked and ranted about how the piece was "basically painting itself," she undressed slowly while prancing around the room and humming to some tune that found its way into her head. Joel saw the colors blend and separate, waiting for the wall to respond with where his next brush stroke should be.

The woman found herself looking at that painting of the little girl again. She was unable to quiet her curiosity.

"Is she your daughter?"

Her voice broke the string tying him to his work, and he stumbled around a bit before turning around and facing her with an asking face. He let his tools go and followed the sound of the siren, looking deeply into her wide eyes.

"She was my daughter," he admitted freely, something he refused to do as often as possible.

"Where is she?"

He noted how concerned she seemed and took it as an invitation to confide in her.

“She uh… She died ‘bout ten years ago.”

Joel felt her fuzzy arms weave around him, encompassing him with a sense of comfort. It was the first time he could talk about the tragedy without bursting into tears. Her lips pressed warm kisses into his forehead and temples as she attempted to bathe him in consolation.

He removed his head from the crook of her neck to look at her face. Her eyes, although appearing a bit lopsided, were still wide and curious, like she was still waiting for something. He tried to focus on just her, but all he wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to pai-

A shriek broke him out of his trance: the woman seemed surprised about the splatter of paint that got on her bare chest and arms. Joel blinked rapidly and tried to decipher what had happened between talking about his daughter and... Now.

Had time managed to escape him? Was he too out of it to realize that? And who put on the jazz music?

The brown liquid dripped down her body and hid her nipples; he found the motion fascinating. How happy she seemed to be coated in the cold dispense helped him feel more at ease and join in laughing with her. Her hair, frizzier than before, somehow gave the illusion that she was underwater. It just flowed so freely.

"You are a mermaid in the most beautiful depths of the sea," Joel shouted dramatically.

"Wh-what?" She giggled before smearing a finger-lengths of paint onto his forehead.

His hand absentmindedly poked the paintbrush into her collarbone, tickling her in the process. "You are free... And kind... Did you turn the music on?"

And she's giggling again. God, he couldn't get enough of that sound. She was a siren, manipulating him with her songs of joy and laughter.

"You told me to," she answered; only Joel took a few minutes to process it. She covered her hand in yellow paint, cradled his cheek, and let the print of her hand stick to his face as if she were marking her territory. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Joel," she said quietly.

Instinctively, he beckoned for her to close the space between them. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

Her arms snaked around his neck as she looked at his aura and vented. "I was supposed to go on a date tonight with my ex-boyfriend. He wasn't the greatest guy. Abusive. Angry. But my parents love him, and they say he's changed, so... I wanted to try again."

Joel's drug-induced nosiness got the better of him. "Why didn't you?"

She sighed, a smirk daring to grow on her face. "I wanted to make him feel stupid."

He wrapped his arms around her waist at her wise words, holding her close as if she would blow away had he exhaled too hard.

"M'glad I met you too," he admitted. "Did I spill paint on you?"

"Just a bit, but it was my fault. You were in a daze," she admitted bashfully.

The pair took a few minutes to look at each other, feel their spirits, and soak up the serenity between the small gap in their lips.

"Do you wanna fuck?"

Those words would have left Joel speechless in any other scenario at any other time on any other day. But he was high out of his fucking mind, and once his brain had fully processed her question, he answered with a short and sweet "Yes."

He waited patiently as the vixen undressed him, and she took her precious time; her knuckles grazing the wiry hair along his pelvis sent hot shivers across his abdomen before his jeans pooled around his ankles. Lifting his arms to aid in the removal of his shirt, he flinched and giggled childishly when she placed a kiss or two along his collarbone.

She gasped at the nails digging into her sides, his hands begging for more because his voice was too weak to. The desperation grew in his eyes, and he wanted to feel close to her. To feel all of her depths and shallows and curves and grooves. Her essence rendered him helpless. The smell of her perfume was even more sickly than he recalled, but all the much more sweet.

Their bodies danced onto the floor, bending and curling around each other like snakes.

"I was always afraid of this," he spoke as she worked her hand around him, not that he needed it. "Feeling close with someone. After my last... You know."

She smiled at his words, telling him with her eyes: I know.

"I was so scared to feel close to someone..." She admitted. "After him, I wanted to be left alone. Untouched."

"What changed that- oh, fuck," Joel moaned, feeling her wetness encapsulate him.

"Someone found me, ha-ah, hmm... And took care a'me, just like I'm doing for you."

Joel clawed at her back, reaching for her hair, but his arms were too heavy, with the quick rushes of euphoria soaring through his veins. Her moans and pretty little sounds coaxing him into blindness. He couldn't see her face, covered in the universe of her bangs littered with stars and planets, until she leveled her happy face with his. The shimmer in her glossy eyes let him know she enjoyed this just as much as him.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, ever s-seen," he moaned.

Finally able to lift his arms, he used them to hold her face gently. He admired her refreshing beauty. She moaned something about how sweet he was, though it went unregistered to him.

All he could feel was her thighs flexing against his hips every time she rode down, and he felt his cock brush that sensitive sponge deep inside of her. Her hands pressed painfully into his ribcage, but he didn't mind. He loved that she needed him so much that it hurt.

She laid her body down on his chest, bringing her lips to his chin; he whimpered at the softness of her lips, his warm breath hitting her nose and making her body shudder. His mouth parted to stick his tongue out for her to lick and suck, which she did graciously.

He never knew his tongue could feel so ticklish or that having it licked would feel so damn good. It made his cock throb against her walls, forcing a moan out of the both of them. Her nails scratched his scalp tenderly, hips rocking back and forth, creating the perfect rhythm.

Her breasts dragged against the hairs on his chest, making some of the dried brown paint flake onto him; her nippled peaked, vulnerable from the friction.

Joel wrapped his forearms around the base of her spine and rolled over as carefully as his intoxicated body would allow. With hair splayed out, she looked so ethereal, like a walking painting herself.

Then, he noticed a bucket of paint sitting nearby and dipped two of his long fingers inside, dragging the white liquid down the valley of her breasts until he reached the peak of her belly. He noticed how her body reacted: all of the little shakes and shudders signs of appreciation made his heart swell.

His hand reached around her hip to grip her ass as he rested his body weight on her and enveloped her in more kisses. His hips rocked gently and slowly, careful not to hurt her. He wanted to feel her cum and hear her beg him to keep going.

To her, it felt like he pushed deeper with each thrust, begging her body to swallow him whole and allow him the grace of becoming one with her. Her eyes were so low, yet she was seeing more clearly than ever. Seeing his aura radiate off of his broad shoulders and tousled hair - it was a haze of blue and purple. But hers were shades of reds and oranges in his eyes, a fiery tyrant that bullied him with praise and adoration.

His nose tickled her chin while his lips made their way up to plant another kiss on her sweet, sweet mouth. The alcohol in her perfume singed the hairs along his face and nostrils, pilling the hairs on his arms.

"Harder, ngh- please," she murmured.

He saw her blown pupils roll gently beneath her eyelids as beads of sweat formed along her hairline. Her breathing was shallow and short. She was close.

Licking his reddened lips, he pushed her knees back until they were flush with her jawline and shifted his body weight from his knees to his toes, then changed the force of his hips without changing the rhythm.

She loved that he listened to her: harder did not mean faster, and he fucking perfected it. Almost like he knew just how hard to go.

Joel drove into her deep enough to make her cunt squelch and clench around his thick cock. He felt clumsy inside of her like he was tripping up over his own orgasm. He felt all of her ridges and curves, the smooth and the rough; everything intensified in a way that could only be described by the God he didn't believe in.

But she had him questioning that in the back of his mind. He would have believed that she was God herself if he wasn't aware of how high he was. She looked celestial, her mouth forming an 'o', and her hair sprawled around her shimmering face. Even with her mascara flaking and running slightly, she seemed so content, so pleased.

Joel's desperation to come inside of her was almost primal, instinctive... If her nails weren't digging so sharply into his forearms, he wasn't sure whether or not he would have been able to hold back.

He didn't ease up on her throughout her orgasm. Honestly, he didn't think too much about it. He never wanted right now to end. With a sense of ecstasy coursing through his veins, he managed to turn into something he tried so hard not to be. He craved her body, her kisses.

He pulled her into his lap before resting his cheek on her breast. He inhaled the musk of her sweat deeply, cherishing the divine woman she was. She felt as beautiful as she looked. She fucked just as sweet as she smelled.

His clammy hand ran over her flexed calve as she bounced on him. Her movements were sloppy from his tight grip, not that either of them cared. She was sure not to go too high or come down too hard, allowing her pussy to drip white remnants of her orgasm onto his balls. He licked and kissed and bit her tits as a submissive thank you.

She kissed the top of his hair, strumming her fingers along his scalp. "Joel," she moaned, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he grunted almost instantly.

Raising his head to look back at her blissed out face, he pulled her even closer. His chin dug into her clavicle, but his neediness only made her laugh softly.

Joel's face twitched as his body proposed its orgasm, his dick throbbed roughly against her sensitive walls. She gasped, taking it as a sign to fuck him faster despite the burning in her legs. He winced at her arms weighing heavier into his collarbones but just clawed at her ass to power through the pain.

She placed a hand over his heart and pushed gently, forcing him to feel the thumping against his chest. He felt so much of his anger and pain dissipate beneath her touch, instilling love and peace in place of it.

"You're so precious," he whispered. A lovely smile rose onto her face, one that drove him crazy. He looked at her with big puppy eyes that threatened to fill with tears. She licked along her teeth and bit her bottom lip. "I love y-you..." He knew he didn't mean it and that she didn't either, but he missed being able to say those words. "Tell m- oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Tell me you love me," he pleaded. "Tell me you love me 'til I cum, baby."

"I love you, Joel.”

His eyes screwed shut, face falling into the curve of her neck.

“I love you, baby. I want you to cum for me,” she moaned, breathless from exhaustion.

His nails dug deeper into her flesh, he was clinging onto his climax as much as possible, wanting to wait long enough for it to destroy him.

“Oh, Joel, fuck!” She yelped. “I love you, I love you!”

And he broke.

His nails scratched lines up her back whilst he screamed into her chest. Her pussy throbbed against his sensitive cock from the arrival of her second orgasm, heightening his sensitivity.

A few tears shed his eyes at the closeness; Joel felt like he was falling into the Earth. He was so dizzy and confused, cornered by the affection clouding his judgment.

“I love you,” she whispered into his scalp, placing one last kiss before climbing off of his lap.

He hissed at the last stroke of her cunt but helped her lay down, using his t-shirt to prop her head up.

“I love you,” he said before kissing her head.

“You should drink some water.”

As soon as she said that, he felt the itchiness in his dry throat. He grabbed water from the table a few feet away and chugged as much as his stomach could handle.

“Will you bring me the joint and a lighter?”

Joel fulfilled her request and sat the water next to her, immediately looking back at his work in progress while she got herself situated.

A few moments passed before she spoke again. “Are you coming down?”

Confused, he looked down at her but saw that the colors weren’t so loud anymore. “Think so…”

“Take a few hits. It’ll help.”

He hesitated but sat down and did as she told him. 

“Thank you,” he said after briefly coughing and handing the joint back to her. “I think whatever that… Pill was actually helped.”

“If it wasn't the pill, it must’ve been the sex,” she teased, earning a laugh from him. She tapped his shoulder and pointed her head towards his mural.

ᝰ

A rough pounding woke Joel up from his slumber. He groaned, pressing the meat of his palm to his forehead and slowly sitting up before remembering the girl was still next to him.

He watched her sleep soundly, mouth slightly parted and a gentle snore creaking from her throat. The memories of last night flooded his mind, and while they were somewhat fuzzy, he remembered clear as day how it felt.

He felt most of his questions had been answered by something more complex than communication. It was frightening yet calming at the same time.

Her body stirring regained his focus, and he knew she must have been feeling the same tension headache as he was when she groaned before her eyes fluttered open. She squirmed from the cold air and looked up at the hungover man, smiling as she remembered the night before.

“Morning, Joel,” she said with a playful tilt.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Your head hurtin’?”

“Yep,” she grunted while sitting up. “Ever been to that café on thirty-fourth street?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll take you there for some coffee and breakfast. My treat,” she told him.

Her eyes landed on the big, dull wall that had been taunting Joel for weeks, only to find it was a brightened, complete piece of art.

She admired the woman's beauty and asked him without looking away, “S’that me?”

Joel smirked and reached for his boxers, standing to put them on.

“She’s beautiful, ain’t she?” Joel kissed her head and walked away, leaving the woman alone to admire his masterpiece…

Her.

[tonati143]

Homesick

Post Veilguard, Spoilers ahead

Rook x Lucanis, mentions of HOF, Angst/comfort

Pt 1. pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6

Lucanis might be ooc it's my first time :(

It was good, it was supposed to feel good.

Rook's steps felt heavy as he made his way down the cobblestone steps, lightheaded, his arms sore. His teal eyes dragged along the scenery of his smiling friends, his cheering allies.

How many congratulations did he get? How many heavy hands slapped against his back?

He could barely register it all, the colors blurred together, the voices muffled against his ringing ears. The muscles around his lips stretched into a smile as Bellara approached him, her mouth moving rapidly, his ears too overwhelmed to make out a word she said.

He was supposed to be happy.

But Varric is dead. Harding is dead.

Because of him.

For a moment, he let his thoughts overwhelm his mind. He could feel the weight pulling against his feet, the weight of his friend's lives. He walked and walked and kept walking until he found himself facing the blues of his room once more.

His sword fell beside him with a heavy thud, the soft couch creaking as he sat down.

There was something about those fish. Those fish that swam without a care in the world. They didn't have to save the world; they didn't have to make the hard decisions. They didn't have the world looking to them for help.

He hated them. He hated their existence. Yet he was drawn to them like a moth to the flame, his heart clenching with bitter envy at the sight of them.

Tears pooled in his eyes, shining with the light of the aquarium.

The door creaked open, and his scarred hands moved to wipe them away.

"I knew I'd find you here"

Lucanis. His head turned, shiny teal meeting deep brown.

His mask began to shift into place, a smile beginning to creep onto his features, yet the furrow in the other man's brows told him he wouldn't be able to smile it away.

"Yeah" Rook responded quietly, his chin dipping down and his gaze turning to the floor. He leaned down, his elbows resting against his knees, his hands clasped together.

The soft footsteps broke the silence as Lucanis approached him, and it wasn't long before Rooks view of the floor had changed to the sight of his love kneeling before him.

Be strong, be strong--

It was the feeling of those hands against his cheek, the softness in his gaze, the worried downturn of his lips that etched into Rooks defenses.

"What's wrong?"

Rooks lips parted, his mind trying to force a word out of his lips, something, anything. But his throat was too tight, his heart too heavy. His eyes stung as the frustration of his own silence built up, tears began to brink once more.

He's supposed to be happy. He's supposed to be celebrating.

He stared up at the ceiling of his room, trying to blink the tears away yet they stubbornly clung to his lashes. Stubborn, just like him.

"Rook--"

"I can still hear them"

He finally spoke, pulling away from the caress to messily wipe at a rogue tear. His lip trembled, his breath shaking.

"I--I know they're not here anymore, I-I know we won. The Gods are-are gone. Solas is gone, but I--"

The echoes of Varrics voice rung in his ears and his hands moved to cover them, tears winning the war against his own pride. Yet in his attempt to cradle his wounded pride, he shut his eyes, hiding from Lucanis' worried gaze.

"It wasn't your fault" Lucanis spoke, his hands tense, unable to move.

"I know"

Rook, the man who took care of the entire team, who take care of him, and Lucanis found that he didn't know how to comfort him. Yet a hand returned onto Rook's cheek, the man flinching before settling against it once more, holding onto it like a lifeline.

The silence was deafening, the soft sniffles that escaped the once happy go lucky man filling the room.

It felt like an eternity before he slowly removed his hands from his sharp ears, his eyes red rimmed, his face flushed with embarrassment. His teal eyes darted up to Lucanis before settling on the floor once more.

"I want to go home."

His voice was rasped, tight. His sharp ears tilting downward as his chin ducked downwards once more.

No longer did he look like a warrior, a crow that had taken down two elven gods. Now? Now he looked like a child, sullen and tearfully asking for his mother.

"Of course, we can head out to Trevis--"

"No"

He spoke immediately, his jaw tense as he wiped at a tear.

He trained in Treviso, he worked in Terviso. But it wasn't home. It wasn't the snowy woods where he grew up. Treviso did not smell of pine. Home was a campfire; home was warm stew. Home was hunting with his sister before she had been called to become a warden. Home was stealing her sweets before she had to save Ferelden.

"I want to go home"

There was a brief silence between them once more, then Lucanis broke the silence.

"I will send a letter"

[glorified-phantom]

a/n: another heizou fanfic! This man has been on my mind and I can't help but write for him again!

pairings: Heizou x Criminal! Male! Reader

cw: Overstimulation, use of toys, mean Heizou, ooc heizou, bondage(?), slight cock stepping, sadism/masochism, top heizou, bottom reader

“ Alright, I’ll be heading off now! Don’t miss me too much! “ The young man exclaimed, giving a huge wave to the Traveler as they parted ways, his smile big and bright, like it always had been.

-

You hated Shikanoin Heizou. He was irritating, to say the least. Despite being a criminal mastermind yourself, his antics would annoy you to no end. That was why you had set up a trap for him, one that would secure him as your prisoner while you pranced around Inazuma doing various deeds. The plan was foolproof, you were sure of it. But now that you thought of it, perhaps you had been the fool all along. You should’ve noticed the signs that information got out, you should’ve noticed the little, subtle changes to your trap, and you should’ve never gotten too cocky. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been in the situation you’re in now.

-

Heizou hummed as he made his way toward an abandoned shack on the outskirts of serai island, twirling a ring of keys on his finger as he took in the sight of the area, a variety of purple scattered throughout as electricity buzzed gently in the air, making some of his hair stand on end. The detective walked with a skip in his step as he stopped at the front door, inserting a key into the keyhole before twisting, a small ‘ click ‘ sound being heard. 

“ I’m home~! “ He called out, looking around the almost barren shack, grinning when his eyes caught his object of interest. He gently shut the door behind him and locked it as he placed the keys into his pocket. His green eyes lit up as he looked down at a puddle on the floor which he had stepped on, a small tsk coming from him. “ You really made a mess, didn’t you? “ He asked, receiving no response before shrugging and squatting down, face-to-face with the only other person in the shack, you.

Long, shaky breaths left you as your legs shook, trying to hold yourself up. Your wrists were restrained above your head by a rope from the ceiling while you had multiple toys strapped to you, one even inside you. Every time your legs gave in, the rope would dig into your skin, making it difficult for blood to flow there and causing extensive pain, which was why you were on the brink of collapsing. The detective was a cruel man, his hollow laughter filling your ears as you tried to ignore it, unfocused eyes looking at anywhere but him. Heizou’s hand came up to your cheek to stroke it, his gentle touch contradicting the one from his other hand as he tugged at your cock, bringing your whole body forward to him as well as making hot pain rush up your entire body, a gasp escaping you in the process. 

“ I asked you a question, didn’t I? “ He muttered, low and downright menacing as his soft touches changed and he was now grabbing you by the jaw, forcing you to meet his dark, narrowed eyes. A whine came from you as you tried your best to remember the question, your memories murky, even though he asked that question a minute ago. With a huff at your silence, the auburn-haired man stood straight up and walked a few steps back, he brought one of his hands into his pocket and took out a small rectangular device, the slider on it currently at its lowest setting. Your eyes widened at the object as you bit the inside of your cheek, preparing for more pain than pleasure as his finger slid the slider up so that it was now on its highest setting, ten.

A choked sob left your mouth as you felt intense vibrations on your cock, the sensation bringing agony to your lower half as fresh tears fell down your previously tear-stained cheeks. From the corner of your blurred vision, you could see the man walk around you, observing the way your hands clenched and unclenched, the way your legs trembled and the way your entire body seemed to shake as an orgasm struck you like lightning, Instead of feeling pure ecstasy like you were supposed to, you only felt red, hot anguish as you screamed, your voice coming out raw and raspy. 

You didn’t realise it, but he had stopped in front of you when you came, droplets of white which you shot out landing on his foot as he blankly stared, face unreadable while your eyes met with his. He lifted a hand as your flinched, tired eyes closing as you expected a beating, only for him to gently lift your chin with his finger. You could feel him press a kiss to the corner of your lips as you exhale through your nose, his lips burning your skin. “ Hey now, “ he started, breath fanning against the side of your face, “ it seemed as though you got something on me just now. “Your confused eyes said everything as he motioned downwards, your gaze following. Ah, his foot which was covered in droplets of white. He removed his finger from you before making his way behind you, you could feel his warmth by your back as the restraints on your wrists went from unbearably tight to loose before you crashed onto the ground, your arms struggling to hold yourself up as your entire body trembled. 

You looked absolutely pathetic, soft pants coming out from you as the dildo in your ass came out due to your fall, covered with a thin sheen of liquid as your hole clenched around thin air, too used to having it stuck in you that now you felt empty, yet you were also relieved. Heizou gave you a few seconds to collect yourself, you finally managed to get your body up as you leaned against one of the four walls, its coolness seeping into your warm back and making you shudder. You had your eyes shut, glad that you could at least take a break now, well, as much as a break you could get. The vibrations on your sex did not lessen at all but you were too preoccupied with the sudden drop to notice, but now that you weren’t doing anything much, its vibrations became apparent as you came again, a silent cry leaving you as your fluids covered your tired legs. 

The soft tapping of his footsteps approached you as you opened both your eyes to stare up at him. Heizou bent down to face you, a gentle smile on his face as he reached for your cock, a sigh fleeing you as you readied yourself for another round of pure torture. Only for him to remove the toy on it, as tenderly as possible, doing the same to the others that were strapped onto you. 

To say that you were dumbfounded was an underestimation as you watched him like a hawk, though you knew that you had no power to stand up to him. Not when your wrists were red and you could barely feel your hands, not when your legs were overworked and shaking, not when every part of you shook at the lightest touch and certainly not when your cock was still red and throbbing, leaking out its translucent liquid. You collected your confidence as you decided to rasp out a question which had been flooding your mind since the beginning, “ why? “ 

The once gentle smile on his face had long since faded as his eyes peered at you, face devoid of anything before he pushed himself forward, caging you to the wall, the only emotion was in his eyes, his intense gaze making you quiver. “ You fascinate me. I’ve heard about your deeds, no other detective in Inazuma could catch you and when I heard that you had planned to seize me for foiling your plans, I had to turn the table on you didn’t I? “ Heizou’s usual grin returned as he leaned in and spoke softly near the shell of your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps up your neck, “ after all, no one’s been able to outsmart Shikanoin Heizou. But you had come close, too close. And now, I suppose its time for your retribution, isn’t it? “ 

With that, he stood up and pressed the sole of his sandals to your burning cock, a groan escaping you as he gazed down on you, his face switching from grinning to unfeeling in the blink of an eye as he applied more pressure, your pained sounds and expression fueling him. 

-

You despised Shikanoin Heizou, but, you also couldn’t help but love him. Because, just as you had caught his obsession and attention, so had he to you.

[peter-starkofficial]

Hello New York!

The name is Spider-Man! But you probably knew that already, right? So, I’m on here, finally. I know, I know! Took me long enough. It took forever to convince the ai, yes, the AI. They wouldn’t let me. But hey, I’m here now!

Time for the actual intro though.

My name is Peter James Stark, I’m currently 18 in my senior year! Gotta love the school system. (Hate it).

Uh… my middle name comes from my Dad’s best friend, James Rhodes, and my last name of course came from him.

Dad’s been gone two years now, I think? I don’t know, days kinda blurred together after I got back from the blip and stuff. Still hard to get it in my head he won’t be there…

Anyway! I love science, engineering, all of that good stuff. I like to traverse the multiverse and stuff, help people for the greater good.

OOC:

This is an au Peter. He is biologically Tony’s son in his universe, but Tony is dead. The events of cannon occurred in his universe, which is why he doesn’t stay in his own universe much.

Peter is genius level smart like Tony.

Rules for interaction:

1. No Starker. Or any of that stuff it’s… a no no for me.

2. DM rp is allowed, but NSFW is not

3. Have fun :)

I’m trying my best with this! This is an au Peter so… yeah! Also this universe is whacky other than following endgame and no way home sooo :)

[n3onstroke]

HURT: a sans au x female oc fanfic.

author ramble: noel is the mc, third person bc i can’t write in anything else, noel is a fucking simp for error but i can’t blame her, that man is sexy ong, BISEXUAL MC YES GOD, noel has a gender crisis idk, she uses she/her for now tho, lots LOTS of cursing like noel has no filter, mainly bad sans but i might toss ink and a couple others in there idk, she’s a monster, MC is NOT human 😅😅, zombie mc YESSSS, mc is sick of everyone’s dumbass questions, physical illness suffering mc, mc has OP magic, mc used to be human but shhhhhh 😵‍💫🤫🤫, mc has non-binary shape-shifting older sibling 🤗🤗, lots of trauma, sarcastic and passive agressive mc, she’s a likin park fan, schizophrenic mc, fucking batshit mentally ill crazy mc undercover, gore, light body horror, bad flirting, too many puns go away, humour, eventual romance, mc fucking loves baking, mc loves cheese and diet coke, neol fucks around and finds out, W’s in the chat, FUCK IT INKS A LOVE INTREST TOO, Noel does NOT like ink at the start, error loves that, bottom mc on my soul she is, tsundere mc??, she’s korean and so is her older sibling, english is not her first language, google translate, she’s so sexy, asexual / not really into / considering sex oc?? asexual (????) i don’t even know, the furthest i’ll probably write is making out / a little touching but that’s it, HYPERSEXUAL older sibling lol, dust and nightmare know korean, noel when dust speaks korean: 🤭🤭😵‍💫😵‍💫😣, noel when nightmare speaks korean: 💀💀😒😒🙂‍↔️🤨, is my error bias showing with this or no, noel is a type 1 diabetic, she’s also lactose intolerant but loves cheese idk, she also is fucking addicted to chai drinks, chronic insomina, like it’s so bad this bitch is CHUGGING nightquil while dream’s and nightmares powers don’t do SHIT. possesive everyone besides Noel because she isn’t crazy (lie), yanderes?? yeah probably, oh my god this is so long, killer being her number one opp (also a massive flirt), nightmare being an asshole for like…99% percent of the time, dust just being husband material, horror force feeding her idk, cross being husband material too (i love him holy shit he’s so FINE GAWDDD), error being a little shit and making noel lose her shit, kind of ooc error because im crazy about them, all the skellies use he/him fuck u, i’m fucking in love with error, the brainrot help, mc hates this shit, mc sleeps with stuffed animals, mc loves horror movies, mc is actually really smart, ERROR HAS FIVE TONGUES HOLY SHIT!!!, NOEL PULLS ALL THE BITCHES ON ACCIDENT????

GENERAL RAMBLE: INTRODUCTION CHAPTER, CURRENT PROGRESS 0/45 CHAPTERS.

TW FOR ENTIRE STORY, BUT CHAPTERS WILL HAVE THEIR SEPREATE TW’s!!!

PLAYLIST:

POCKETFUL OF SUNSHINE

BY NATASHA BEDINGFUL

HELL YEAH

BY JULEZ SANTANA, AUGUST ALSINA

PITBULL TERRIER

BY DIE ANTWOOD

LOCKJAW

BY SIR-MIX-ALOT

USE YOUR HEART- INTERLUDE

BY SWV

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

BY SHE WANTS REVENGE

MONOLITH

BY TWIN TRIBES

WHY’S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKING ON ME

BY BLOODHOUND GANG

THE MEAT GRINDER

BY JAPANESECOFFEE

BROWN SHUGA

BY SIR-MIX-ALOT

FARBEN (ALARM MIX)

BY ORANGE SECTOR

LIVING DEAD GIRL

BY ROB ZOMBIE

TRON CAT

BY TYLER THE CREATOR

SERIAL KILLER

BY SLAYYYTER

GOTTASADAE

BY BEWHY

YOU ARE ALSO LIKE ME

BY NASTYONA

CREEP

BY RADIOHEAD

LEAVING TONIGHT

BY THE NEIGHBOORHOOD

NO MORE

FREDDIE DREDD

ICH WILL

BY RAMMSTEIN

HOLY DIVER

BY KILLSWITCH ENGAGE

FLATLINE

BY JUSTIN BIEBER

CARRION

BY FIONA APPLE

WALTZ (BETTER THEN FINE)

BY FIONA APPLE

GET HIM BACK

BY FIONA APPLE

GIVEN UP

BY LIKIN PARK

THE DEVIL IN I

BY SLIPKNOT

POINTS OF AUTHORITY

BY LIKIN PARK

WITH YOU

BY LIKIN PARK

NIGHTMARE

BY AVENGED SEVENFOLD

BURRIED ALIVE

BY AVENGED SEVENFOLD

DIVA

BY BEYONCE

SONG 2

BY BLUR

TAKE A LOOK AROUND

BY LIMP BIZKIT

PARANOID ANDROID

BY RADIOHEAD

HAND ME MY SHOVEL, I’M GOING IN!

BY WILL WOOD AND THE TAPEWORMS

RAH TAH TAH

BY TYLER THE CREATOR

JUST

BY RADIOHEAD

AESTHETIC:

Tags:

[theshamelesssimp]

Caroline as a Wolf then Hybrid WIP!

Disclaimer: It has been been over five years since I have watched The Vampire Diaries and I haven't even seen The Originals so if I get things wrong or these characters seem OOC I'm sorry, I'm a master procrastinator and I only rewatched the first episode and a half of The Vampire Diaries a little under a month ago. So don't hold your expectations too high now. This is just a draft, it isn't completed, I am planning on it being longer than this since I want to get her first transformation, cute little moments with her and Klaus as wolves, etc., in this so, yeah. Also, i was going to post this draft sooner but it was so helpfully deleted so I had to remember what wrote from before.

Caroline walked out of the Grill, eyes focused on her phone as she made her way to her car. She sent a text to every cheerleader reminding them that they had practice after school on Monday and to let her know in advance if the couldn't make it. She hated making last minute changes to her plans, after all.

As she pressed send on the text she felt a hand grab her elbow and pull her into an an alleyway. She blinked, slightly disoriented and focused on the man in front of her. He was wearing a hoodie so she couldn't see his face all that well and he was a couple of inches taller than her with his build being on the bigger side.

He glared at her as he still held her by her arm. "Give me your money."

Caroline gave him a nasty look before scoffing and rolling her eyes. "I don't think so."

She shook off his arm and started heading towards the entrance of the alleyway just for him to grab her again, only this time he slammed her back into the wall. Caroline groaned at the pain she felt and open her mouth to snark at him but stopped herself when she felt something sharp press against her neck.

The man glared at her harsher this time. "I said give me your money."

Caroline hesitantly looked down and froze in fear when she saw the blade of a pocket knife press against her throat. Out of instinct, she quickly pushed him back with a strength she never knew she had and witnessed him stumble back and trip on his own feet. Time slowed down as she saw him fall back and hit his head on the dumpster with sickening crack.

Seconds have passed as her breath grew shaky and her hands became sweaty, staring wide eyed at the man who's eyes had become glossed over. She didn't see him move and ran over to him, kneeling down to put two fingers on his pulse, desperate to find it still beating. "No, no, no, please..." She begged.

When she felt nothing she removed her hand from his neck and it flew up to her face to cover her mouth as she let out a small gasp, tears blurring her vision when she realized that she just killed someone. Her breathing grew heavier and she frantically got up before looking around to see if anyone saw her.

Caroline found herself panicking, making stressed sounds and pacing around with her hands in her hair.

This couldn't be happening, what was she supposed to do? What if someone sees her? Why did this happen to her?

She had tears streaming down her face as she brought her trembling hands down and scrolling through the contacts on her phone before pushing on her mother's number.

She held the phone up to her ear, shaking as it went to voice mail and trying again. "C'mon, please answer the phone."

By the third call she heard it go through and the voice of her mother answered.

The latter sighing before talking, unaware of the predicament her daughter was in. "Caroline, you know not to call me when I'm on duty."

Caroline whimpered into the phone before she started weeping, her voice small as she spoke. "Mommy..."

The Sheriff froze before straightening her back and hardening her eyes. "Caroline, what's wrong."

"I–I didn't mean too, I–I promise. He j–just came out o–of nowhere and h–he..." She swallowed, looking at the dead body before snapping her eyes shut, her tone fearful as she continued. "He pulled m–me into the a–alleyway beside the Grill and h–held a knife to my throat and I–I panicked, I didn't know this w–would happen." She rambled unsteadily. "Please don't be mad a–at me."

Liz attempted to calm her daughter. "It's okay, Caroline." Liz gripped her phone tightly. "I'll be right there so stay where you are."

I'll probably post this here and on AO3 if I finish it so...yeah. I don't mind constructive criticism if you want to give that, just don't be rude about it.

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

Late Night Check-In

(I was going to make a oneshot based off of the Firefly Fairy AU, but eventually settled on this because I was struggling with it.

This is going to be after my vent oneshot, but you don’t need to have read that for this to make sense since I’m basically going to set the scene again. Bit of a downer because it’s coming down from the tension of the last one in the first half, but not too down I think and I think it’s more fluff? I’m sorry if anyone’s OOC ;-;)

Count: 7382

TW/CW: Soft, safe, non-sexual oral vore, vivid mentions of dream death

Unsurprisingly, when Syn woke up late in the morning and sent a text to everyone that tried contacting them while it was dead… Well, it was a bit of a Merry-Go-Round of people coming over to check on them and berate them, both physically and over text. They had been groggily getting themself a glass of sweet tea and opening some tuna for Grim when their front door was practically slammed open.

Actually, no. It WAS slammed open.

There was a massive crash from the lounge that Syn ran over to investigate with Grim, finding that Kalim and Jamil were sprawled out with the magic flying carpet they rode in on using two corners to push itself back up from the floor. Before they could ask if either was okay, Kalim had leapt to his feet and tackled them, crying while asking what happened. Jamil commented on how unsafe his carpet flying was, peeling the other man off of Syn long enough to check him for injuries while they tried to explain that they only left for a couple days and forgot to leave a note.

Only to reiterate it over and over as more people almost immediately burst into Ramshackle.

Ace and Deuce rushed in, Ace smacking them upside the head as both proceeded to shout about how worried they’d been, getting interrupted by Riddle, Trey, and Cater close behind while they explained.

The only ones that didn’t show up over the course of several hours were the Diasomnia dormmembers (probably because they didn’t have Lilia’s number, they weren’t close with Silver, Sebek hated their guts, and Malleus didn’t know how to operate a phone well), Idia, Azul, and the NRC teachers.

That was more than fine with them because it got really crowded and loud with everyone that came inside.

The afternoon and evening passed in a blur, the students they knew coming and going over the course of the impromptu get together.

A little bit of time was spent with Syn explaining that they forgot to leave a note, a good hour being spent where those present vocalized both their worry, anger, and relief, and then Kalim somehow roping everyone into a celebratory party in their own lounge now that they were back.

It all happened so fast that Syn felt like they blinked and suddenly there was a bunch of food and sweets, and everyone just seemed so surprisingly happy.

They were sure some said some really moving things, but they literally couldn’t recall anything by the time Jamil convinced Kalim that it was too late in the night to continue partying after everyone else had gone home. They just stood on their front porch waving Kalim and Jamil farewell with a smile that dropped as soon as they walked back inside and closed the now bent door.

They’d have to try and figure that one out later since the lock was broken and the wood was cracked, but they’d never seen any strangers around Ramshackle so safety wasn’t their first thought.

Syn spent the next hour or so cleaning after the plethora of guests that had swept through, putting the extra food in the fridge for Grim - who went into a food coma on the couch - and turned in for the night.

The next day was spent just trying to enjoy the calm before they got another round of lectures from the teachers Monday, Grim thankfully not wanting to drag them off anywhere. He was content just sat next to them while they both watched dumb videos on Magicam.

When Monday did come around, they woke up with Grim and felt that bone-deep exhaustion settle again, ignoring the ever growing darkness under their eyes as they trailed after the cat to classes. They smiled and greeted Rook and Ruggie, taking the expected lecture from Professor Crewel before receiving one from Vargas and Trein as well during the day.

Even Crowley, seemingly lazy as he was, came across them in the hall and scolded them for scaring the entire campus into a search frenzy for two days. And then he scolded them for being late to their last period when he talked through the break time in between classes.

Outwardly, they tried to act as normal as they could, smiling and taking the lectures with a serious face. On the inside, they just wanted to waste away and questioned why they came back in the first place if their presence AND absence were just causing problems for everyone else. It was definitely a feat to try and ignore the line of questioning that plagued them.

“You sure you don’t want to go to this Unbirthday Party,” Grim asked, placing his paws on his hips while Ace and Deuce had their arms crossed in front of them. In spite of having no eyebrows, he looked relatively concerned.

“It might help with some normalcy,” Ace suggested, tilting his head slightly, Deuce nodding in agreement.

“We know you said you had needed some time away, but we just don’t want you turning into some kind of shut-in,” the other man said, uncrossing his arms to put a hand to his chin in worried thought. Probably thinking of a particular upperclassman.

Syn rolled their eyes in amusement, replying dramatically, “Oh, what would I do without my Number One and Number Two?”

Snickering, they put a hand on their hip and added, “I’ll be fine! ‘Sides, I don’t think I could become a shut-in with everyone around. I didn’t realize how many people I knew until Ramshackle was flooded with y’all. I’m just a little tired from the party Kalim threw on Saturday. I’ll come to the Unbirthday party next month, kay?”

Ace, Deuce, and Grim shared a look that Syn wasn’t particularly fond of before Ace shrugged and sighed.

“Alright. Don’t want to drag you if ya don’t wanna go. Just, try to get some rest or something,” he said. “Don’t be surprised if Cater or Trey reach out to you.”

“Gotcha covered,” Syn gave the trio a small mock salute. “I’ll probably pass out the second I’m back at Ramshackle, so don’t wait up for me.”

Ace, Deuce and Grim all gave some small farewells, the most enthusiastic being Grim’s “See ya, Syn!” before they walked down the hall.

Syn kept a smile and waved until the three walked around a corner out of sight, sighing deeply and dropping their arm. Grumbling to themself under their breath, they reached up and rubbed the back of their head tiredly with the other arm, turning around with their eyes closed for a moment.

Only to exclaim in surprise when they opened their eyes and saw large red ones right in front of their face, reeling back to avoid walking into the other person with enough force that they fell on their butt.

“You’re back.”

“L-Lilia,” they yelped, their initial surprise and fear fading to tired relief as they breathed a small sigh of relief while the floating upside-down man chuckled at catching them off guard. “Do you always have to do that?”

“Khee hee. Sorry. It’s difficult to resist popping up when you always give reactions like that,” the fae twisted in the air so that he ‘stood’ the right way up before planting his feet on the ground, amused expression quickly turning to a more serious frown. “I understand that you went missing for two days?”

Syn winced at the question, standing up and shoving their hands in their pockets nervously as they replied, “Yeah, I, uh, forgot to leave a note. I’m fine, and I’m sorry for everyone having to make search parties and stuff, and making everyone worried while I was gone. It won’t happen again.”

Lilia hummed in thought for a couple seconds with dark-red eyes narrowed in contemplation, making them shift a bit at the lack of immediate response. They’d been bombarded with both chastising lectures and quick ‘I’m glad you’re okay’s, so the several seconds of silence were a bit anxiety-inducing.

“Well, at least you don’t seem to have come back harmed,” he eventually said with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest. It felt like he was holding back from saying something else, but he added, “Now the Diasomnia dorm won’t be covered in frost anymore, I hope.”

“I- Huh? Why would me being gone cause your dorm to frost,” Syn asked, blinking in confusion. They’d never stepped in Diasomnia’s halls yet.

“Oh, just some cause and effect, khee hee,” Lilia chuckled again, raising a hand to his chin with a smile more knowing than they’d like. “Malleus will be glad of your return. Expect to see him near Ramshackle during his walks at some point these next few days.”

“Mal-? Oh, right, Hornton,” Syn shook their head, completely forgetting that they’d found out the man’s real name a couple weeks ago. At this point, Hornton and Malleus were still different people in their head just out of the sheer habit. And, he’d said he was okay with them using the nickname so they hadn’t really put much effort into calling him by his real one.

The fae in front of them laughed lightly at the nickname.

“Khee hee hee. Yes, dear Hornton.”

“I mean, he’s always welcome to come over,” they said. Before they could stop themself, they smiled politely and suggested, “Grim’s gone to an Unbirthday party tonight, so I don’t know how long that’ll be. Hornton is more than welcome to come over and hang out if he’s able.”

Syn immediately froze in place with their polite smile.

Why did they just invite someone over when they were still struggling with their thoughts and emotions?! This was going to be horrible for the poor fae, but they can’t just retract it! Especially not when Lilia’s eyes widened in surprise before his face lit up, apparently very approving of the idea while they forced themself to continue smiling.

“An intriguing development,” the man smiled, red cat-like eyes closing as he happily told them, “I think Malleus will be more than willing to come over! I’m glad he’s getting along with at least one schoolmate enough to receive such an invitation.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of my invitation, I guess,” Syn replied, internally screaming.

“Why, of course! Any friend of Malleus is a friend of mine,” Lilia put his hands on his hips, the statement just making them feel more obligated to not retract their open invitation. “I shall tell him posthaste. Hopefully he hasn’t wandered far and you’ll be able to see him tonight.”

“No rush if he’s busy,” they kept up the pleasantries while really hoping he had better things to do than visiting them, Lilia disappearing in a shower of sparks similar to when Malleus would disappear at the end of their conversations with him.

Syn groaned a bit at the man’s departure, burying their face in their hands for a second while whining to themself. “God, why did I do that?”

Sighing, they resigned themself to heading back to Ramshackle, hoping beyond hope that Malleus would lose track of time or be too busy for a visit, thoroughly convinced that no one needed to deal with their tumultuous mental state right now. Hence why they declined the Unbirthday Party and had been fully prepared to just sleep when they got back to their dorm.

But, c’est la vie, whatever, all that jazz. They’ve made a commitment and now they gotta stick to it.

Walking through the winding halls down the cliff to Ramshackle, they immediately felt like they needed to clean up. It wasn’t the messiest, but it was ingrained into them to basically deep clean before known visits. Did they like that instinct? No, but it helped kick them into gear and clean after themself and Grim better than they normally would, at least. Made them feel somewhat accomplished.

Because they’d already cleaned after the party on Saturday, it didn’t take as long for the lounge at least, and they cleaned their shared room with Grim. But, the rest of the building went without a maintenance clean as they found themself almost immediately exhausted and flopped on the couch once they were satisfied.

Syn waited nervously for their supposed visitor to come, expecting a knock on the door or a flash of light somewhere to announce the arrival of the horned man. However, hours passed with neither hide nor hair from Malleus, Grim coming home to them scrolling absentmindedly through Magicam.

“I thought you said you were going to go to sleep when you got home,” the cat said, putting his paws on his hips disapprovingly as he walked into the lounge.

“Well, I was,” Syn defended themself, sitting up and placing a hand on their chest. “But then Lilia caught me off guard and, before I knew it, I was inviting Hornton over to hang out! I can’t just RETRACT that, it’s rude.”

“Hornton?” Grim’s eyes widened in brief surprise. Reaching up, he rubbed a pawpad against his forehead as he sighed. “Ugh, I guess you’re right. But, if he’s not here, I’m guessing he hasn’t shown up yet. Pretty lousy way to treat an invitation if you’re asking me.”

“I’m not asking you. Besides, he tends to wander off, so Lilia probably never even got to tell him. That or he doesn’t want to see me yet,” they replied, sitting up and stretching before standing.

“Well, you’re going to go to bed,” he huffed, paws on his hips as Syn quirked an eyebrow at him, torn between questioning him and daring him to do something to make them.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Grim said firmly despite their amused smile, tail flicking back and forth. “The last thing I need is for you to go off on another multi-day excursion because you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“Ouch,” Syn’s smile turned into a frown, feeling a pang in their chest at being reminded of recent events. They deserved it after worrying everyone for a couple days though. Sighing after a second, they reached up and rubbed the back of their neck. “I was gonna dare you to make me, but I’d rather you not set the building on fire.

“Alriiight, I’ll go to bed,” they whined, starting to walk to the stairs to head upstairs. The sound of soft pawsteps behind them on the wooden floor made them glance and see that Grim was trailing behind them up to the bedroom.

They changed into their pajamas, yawning as their body began to anticipate the potential of sleep. Turning out the light and plugging their phone in, they slipped beneath the sheets and blanket as Grim hopped up onto the bed with them. They had to resist the urge to question it, suspecting that it was to assure himself that they weren’t just going to disappear more than him being sleepy

Still, after a few minutes, Grim was snoring lightly while curled up beside them.

Syn’s body, meanwhile, decided to make them suffer in contradiction as they laid there. Exhausted, their eyelids felt heavy as though they could immediately fall asleep, yet something just refused them sleep. No position offered solace, even those that were the comfiest.

Time passed either staring at the ceiling or the walls. A couple hours of dazed exhaustion as they tried to sleep that was only broken by glancing at the clock on the wall beside the mirror to check the time in the dim light.

Eight o’clock. Nine o’clock. Ten o’clock.

Eventually they were able to sleep, but it was more of a light doze than anything that left them restless and turning every half hour to hour. Thankfully, Grim was a heavy sleeper and just muttered about tuna under his breath despite their moving around.

A distant rumble and crack caught their half-asleep attention, the brief thought of maybe some rain helping before the room lit up with lightning and there was a crash of thunder that rattled the building and destroyed any chance of peaceful sleepiness in an instant.

“M-Myah!” Grim yowled in surprise while Syn bolted upright, adrenaline rushing through them for a few seconds before starting to fade as they got over the shock of a sudden loud noise. Over the sound of a sudden downpour that was making Ramshackle feel chillier than before, they heard the sound of a single, sharp knock on the front door.

“Mrr, who the heck is at the door this late at night,” Grim grumbled, curling back up on the bed grumpily.

Syn glanced at the clock, seeing that it was after midnight and tiredly replied, “Maybe it’s Hornton? He’s the only one I can think of… I’ll go take care of it, you stay here.”

“Mmm.” the cat let out a barely audible acknowledging noise that had Syn snort slightly in amusement.

Getting out of bed, they slipped a binder on beneath their shirt real quick before padding downstairs in their socks, walking up to the front door of the foyer and opening the door to the looming figure beyond. Groggily rubbing an eye with the back of their hand, they greeted, "Hey, Hornton."

"Syn." Illuminated by lightning cracks, the horned man's face was difficult to discern. But, he'd rarely called them by their actual name and the uncommon occurrence was enough to send a shudder of adrenaline down their spine a bit. But, the sense of immediate tension lessened slightly as the downpour lightened the smallest amount.

Still, it was a bit daunting so late in the night.

"Uhh, you're probably wet from the rain, so.. come on in?"

"Rain?" The fae seemed to straighten slightly in surprise, letting out a soft 'ah' as he glanced behind him. There were a couple seconds that went by in quiet contemplation while Syn struggled to remain focused before he commented, "The rain will no longer be an issue."

"Huh?" Syn gave him a look of confusion before realizing the rain had either settled to a drizzle or stopped completely. Given that he had the capacity of instantaneously rebuilding a stadium and calling it easy, it wasn't too far off to guess he had somehow made the rain disappear. "Oh, I mean, it wasn't really an issue but, uh, thanks, I guess? Do you wanna come inside though? Ooooor go on a walk? I’m awake enough that I probably won’t be able to get to sleep for a while.”

“I’d like to ask you what happened for your absence,” Malleus said, frowning slightly. “But I didn’t realize how late it was. Lilia found me only minutes ago with your invitation when I returned to the dormitory.”

“It’s fine. Though, if we’re going to the topic of my ‘excursion’, I’d much rather walk and talk,” they sighed, not really surprised that Malleus also wanted an explanation. They slipped on their spare shoes that were beside the door and stepped out beside the man. Closing the door, they rubbed the back of their neck and said, “Feel free to lead the way. I’ll just… answer questions, I guess.”

Malleus nodded and stepped off the porch with them trailing behind, both of their footsteps the only sound in the night other than crickets. There was no more rain but the air held a cool mist from the downpour, a light fog over everything as they walked through the Ramshackle gate.

Syn decided to get a headstart on the apology.

“Sorry for worrying you and everyone,” they started, their voice feeling too loud in the quiet night. They continued a bit softer, putting their hands in their pajama pockets. “I don’t know if my explanation has circled around everywhere, but I forgot to leave a note. I didn’t mean to cause such a big scare around campus.”

A few seconds passed in silent thought from the man, Syn starting to think that fae really like just drumming up suspense and making their anxiety worse by dragging out responses.

“When I said I’d like to ask you what happened, I meant ‘why did you disappear’?” Malleus asked, neon green gaze falling on them. He was a very difficult person to read, but usually they didn’t mind since, if he didn’t want to talk to them, he could literally teleport away from the conversation. Not that he’d ever done so.

Now though, they didn’t know if he was upset or not when they glanced at him.

“I just needed some time away,” Syn replied automatically. “From the stress and stuff. I just got a bit overwhelmed, but it won’t happen again.”

He let out a brief hum.

“Was there anything specific?”

They frowned, glancing to the side up to the man’s eyes, trying to weigh potential pros and cons. Trying to see if they were too tired to explain further. Or, if they were tired enough TO explain further with lowered walls.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure,” Syn glowered to the side as they answered him genuinely. “Everything just sort of got to me suddenly. The multiple overblots, still knowing so little about this world, being back in school life and the talk of the campus, and being eaten practically once a week. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did without a snap sooner.”

“Eaten?” Malleus’s voice held an intense surprise that overshadowed when he’d been given the nickname ‘Hornton’. He stopped, his reaction startling the human as they also halted and looked up at him as he turned to face them. “What do you mean, Child of Man?”

“Heh?” they weren’t sure if he was joking, their mind lagging as they processed the genuine surprise and mild concern on the fae’s face. Brow furrowing a bit in confusion, they said, “Yeah, eaten… Did… Did you not know? I was called ‘Fish Food’ for weeks before I offhandedly complained to the eel twins about it.. It was flying around with all the other gossip about me.”

“When did this happen? Were you injured?” the man asked quickly and placed a hand on their shoulder, looking them over as though to check for a sign of wounds that would have long since healed if they had been harmed.

Syn was so startled by the sudden contact, the fae having never touched them before, that they instinctively took a step back at the quick change in demeanor while holding their hands up in surprise despite the black gloves covering his hands. “Woah, woah, I’m fine! I’ve never really been hurt by it… or, injured, I should say. I’ve gotten used to it.”

They didn’t mention the occasional nips or scrapes, mostly from an excitable Floyd, or the panic and mental toll at the beginning because they could see his face begin to darken rapidly as a crack of thunder sounded VERY close by with a flash of green lightning.

“Who?” Malleus didn’t yell or exclaim, the question spoken with barely restrained anger that had Syn’s hair standing up slightly. Or maybe that was the magical pressure in the air that threatened to go from merely noticeable to devastating in an instant if his restraint slipped for even a moment.

“I-I mean, does it really matter when I’m okay,” Syn asked nervously, tapping their fingers together at their shoddy attempt to relieve the tension. When he only narrowed his eyes further, they sighed and added, “I’m not gonna tell you because I FEEL like you’re so mad that you’ll pop into their dorms and kill them right now.”

“I am not mad.”

“You’re literally so angry that I can feel buzzing in my bones from electricity,” they raised an eyebrow at the very obviously pissed off fae, his pupils slitted so much that his eyes were almost only glowing irises. Cautiously, they reached a hand out and placed it on his upper arm, gently saying, “I’m fine, Hornton…. Although, I’m very surprised and touched by your reaction.”

Malleus stiffened at their touch and they worried they’d crossed some sort of unspoken line. But, he relaxed after a couple moments, dark expression fading as he closed his eyes and inhaled. “Of course. You’re important to me.”

Relieved to have dodged a very angry fae, Syn was entirely caught off guard by his comment, unable to keep themself from bursting out into laughter after several seconds of startled staring. They didn’t mean to but their laughter rang out sharp and clear, nearby crickets going silent at the sudden loud noise nearby that ruined their singing. Laughing so much, they had to double over with their arms to their stomach.

God, it’d been awhile since they’d laughed that hard.

“Did I… say something amusing?” Malleus asked as their laughter petered out into giggles.

“Hehehe…” Syn straightened with a hand covering their mouth, abdomen and cheeks hurting. Struggling to regain their breath, they replied, “S-Sorry- heheheha! I just… hehe, wasn’t expecting that. Kkh. Hehehaha!”

They spent another few seconds reining in the remnants of their laughter, part of them wanting to relish the happiness that came with laughing that chased away the other negative emotions. Eventually they cleared their throat and hummed a bit, looking up at Malleus and finally giving him a proper response.

“I didn’t mean to metaphorically laugh in your face,” they said, giving him an apologetic smile at his continued confusion. It turned a bit more melancholic as they continued. “I just… well, one of the reasons I left was because I didn’t really expect anyone to mind if I was gone so it felt like I wasn’t harming anybody. I meant to leave a note, but I also didn’t think anyone would be alarmed if I up and vanished one day either given how many times I’ve almost died. It’s.. surprising.”

Malleus stared at them for a few seconds, seemingly a bit alarmed before a serious expression settled on his face. Almost angrily, he spoke from the chest as he firmly stated, “You’re my friend.”

Syn’s smile became a bit more nervous at the almost forceful declaration, going, “I don’t like how you said that. You said it with a-.”

They were alarmed when the fae stepped closer and grabbed their arm, preventing them from backing away instinctively as he said a bit louder, “You’re my friend.”

“Why are you yelling at me ‘you’re my friend’-?”

“You’re my friend,” Malleus exclaimed, practically forehead to forehead with them, his hair drifting in front of their face as he stared intently into their eyes.

“Oh, god!” Syn yelped, thrown entirely for a loop. Not only was this the most contact the two of them have had, but also the most forceful and expressive the man has been in their presence, usually a cool, collected, stoic yet smug guy that seemed like nothing could really irk him. Even his enthusiastic gargoyle talks didn’t surprise them this much.

And then he pulled back as though the whole thing had never happened, a pace away and out of their space.

“I was concerned when you disappeared,” Malleus said adamantly, the closest to pouting they’d ever seen him as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Syn blinked, struggling to process the last several seconds with their tired brain, slowly replying, “I- uh, appreciate it. Y-you’re my friend, too…. If it’s any consolation, I’m never gonna leave like that again.”

He narrowed his eyes at them slightly in suspicion before sighing slightly. “Good. I’d prefer it if you stay safe and out of trouble.”

“Tch. Good luck with that in this school,” they couldn’t help but scoff slightly, not looking forward to waking up in mere hours for classes. The thought made them groan a bit. “Ugh, I wish I could sleep in class like Leona can.”

“If it’s too late in the night, I can escort you back to Ramshackle so you can rest,” Malleus offered, as though he wouldn’t walk with them to the gate anyways.

Syn sighed a bit at his suggestion and rubbed the back of their neck.

“I mean, I probably should head back. I don’t think I’ll be going to sleep anytime soon though… oh well,” they shrugged, starting to head back in the direction the duo had come from towards Ramshackle. Despite knowing they wouldn’t be getting much sleep, the thought of it did cause them to yawn and they stretched their arms out in front of them as they walked.

“Do you struggle with sleep, Child of Man,” Malleus asked in curiosity as he easily matched their tired stride. Whatever tension the duo had started the stroll with was mostly dissipated. “I’m used to Silver, who struggles with wakefulness.”

“Always have,” Syn replied, kicking a rock absentmindedly. “It takes a while for me to fall asleep and very easy for me to be roused when I’m just starting to doze. I sleep like a rock when I am out, but I also wake up every half hour to an hour for some fucking reason. And not even taking THAT or tossing and turning into account, my dreams are rather active, so sometimes I’ll wake up more tired.”

“What do you dream?”

“Well, depends on the night. Sometimes I’m being chased, sometimes someone’s breaking into whatever home my mind conjures up. On the uncommon occasion, I’ll kill someone in my dreams. In self-defense, of course,” they hurriedly added, just in case, and sighed sheepishly. “People that break into my home or someone that tries to assault me kind of deal… On the rarer occasion, I’ll die.”

“ … That sounds. Unpleasant,” the fae commented quietly, surprising them. Then again, fae probably didn’t think about mortality as much.

“I mean, unless I’m waking up in a cold sweat, I don’t really worry about it. There’s really only one instance that gets me, and that’s when I had my neck slit by a box-cutter, ran to the parking lot of the building in my dream and felt myself slowly getting colder… But, it’s fine!”

Syn gave Malleus a reassuring smile, one that wasn’t very reciprocated.

He, instead, looked mildly concerned and a bit curious as he stared at them for a second or two before inquiring, “Do humans usually dream of death?”

“Uh, probably not everyone, but I’m sure it’s a decent chunk. My dreams don’t really bother ME, per se, I just wake up more tired,” they shrugged, having accepted it. A yawn escaped them. “Besides, even if I get a full night of sleep somehow, I’m still exhausted the next day, so not really a point in fussing over it, you know? Do you dream, Hornton?”

“Sometimes. Though, with the years I’ve spent alive, all my dreams tend to blur together vaguely most of the time,” Malleus closed his eyes in thought, raising a hand to his chin. “I have a couple notable ones.”

Syn expected him to recall some dream he wanted to tell them or maybe even start another topic, waiting patiently as they continued walking and yawning a bit. But, one second turned into several and felt more awkward than anything.

“I can help.”

“Huh?” they blinked in surprise at the sudden small statement, looking to the side at him. “Help? Help with what?”

“Your sleep,” Malleus answered, both of them reaching the Ramshackle gate and stopping. They turned to face him and crossed their arms over his chest, tilting their head curiously as he added, “I can enchant your sleep so you may rest easy without interruption for the night.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do anything like that,” Syn said, smiling as they waved him off. Even though it was probably just a drop in the bucket of magical capability he had, they didn’t want to take advantage of it. “I’ve lasted this long just fine.”

“Think of it as a gift in return for your invitation,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest with a small smile of his own. “I worry for your sleep given that I understand humans need plenty for their well-being.”

“No- I-,” they struggled on how to respond. On one hand, they really didn’t want him wasting his magic on them. On the other hand, they were raised that denying gifts was a rude thing to do and felt like fae had similar customs. Maybe they could sweet-talk their way out of accepting? “Really, you don’t have to. Your company alone is gift enough. I don’t want you to think you have to give me things or do favors in return for just hanging out. We’re friends after all.”

Malleus blinked a bit in surprise at their response, seemingly caught off guard. Likely, not many people had called him a ‘friend’. He seemed almost torn and Syn thought that maybe he was caught off guard enough to not press about his gift, but instead an almost mischievous smile grew on his face.

“Indeed. We ARE friends,” he mused, raising a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh, yeah,” Syn said slowly, having a feeling that this was going to backfire in some way. “We’re friends… What are you thinking?”

“Well, Child of Man,” Malleus shifted closer to them, making them a bit nervous. It wasn’t until their hip hit the metal of the fence around Ramshackle that they realized he placed himself between them and the gate. “I’m thinking that, as your friend, I must INSIST that you allow me to help you regain lost sleep and energy.”

“Hornton, you really don’t have to do that,” they insisted their own side, “I don’t want you being bothered by me or anything.”

“I don’t have to, but I’d like to. Besides, I’ve grown curious during our walk,” he replied, leaning down to be more towards their level and inhaled before exhaling a green-tinged burst of smoke that hit them square in the face.

“Hornton!” Syn coughed instinctively as the smoke entered their lungs, trying to wave it from their face as they did so. When the smoke cleared enough for them to see, they stiffened at the sight of being only inches tall. Again. Inhaling sharply, they couldn’t help but exclaim, “God, fucking- really?! I’m too tired for this shit.”

“Then let me offer my assistance,” Malleus’s voice from above didn’t surprise them and the man knelt down beside them, deftly scooping them up off the cobblestone path with a hand.

Given the amount of times they’d been scooped up, plucked up and dangled, they just averted their gaze from the drop below to avoid their fear of heights and focused on the face of the man that shrunk them with a light glower, holding onto the fabric of his gloves. Arguably, he had the gentlest hold so far. That still didn’t stop their heart from quickening in their chest.

“Let me guess,” Syn said as he straightened to his full height and held them up to see. “You’re curious about eating me.”

“My, am I that easy to read, Child of Man? Or, have you perhaps endured more than I thought?” a brief flicker of the earlier anger drifted over his face for a moment before it was replaced by amusement. “Regardless, your boldness even in your position is fascinating given all the potential danger.”

“I mean, I haven't really been hurt while being eaten yet, so I’m sure I’m safe with you,” they replied, thinking that if they could survive Floyd, that this would be fine. A walk in the park even.

This close and this small, they could see his pupils dilate a little at their response like Leona’s did sometimes. Though, while the lion’s was almost strictly predatory, Malleus’s gaze held something else that they couldn’t decipher in their tired state coupled WITH predatory intent.

“I see… in that case, allow me to continue,” Malleus hummed slightly, raising his other hand and tapping the top of their head with a finger that crackled with green magic, sending a sharp shudder down their spine.

“Ouugh, what was that,” they asked, sticking their tongue in distaste at the somewhat unfamiliar and powerful feeling. They couldn’t help but hold a hand to their chest as it settled into their bones. It wasn’t unpleasant, more of an internal warmth, but it was still unexpected in the moment.

“A simple protection spell. Though, you’ll find it more potent than the classic potion that goes around,” he said, smirking smugly. They felt like he enjoyed showing off sometimes, but the only time they’d seen him use magic before was the stadium.

“Makes sense then,” Syn murmured, guessing that meant he didn’t possess a secondary stomach like their infamous Octavinelle trio. Their heart skipped a beat when the fingers around them twitched ever so slightly, probably imperceptible even to the fae as he lifted them slightly higher and opened his mouth to speak.

But, despite being far more used to this than anyone else, they still couldn’t help but stop him and try to stall, saying, “W-Wait! Shouldn’t we at least let Grim know? I don’t want him to worry that I’d run off again.”

Malleus paused and blinked in surprise, raising his other hand to his chin in thought.

“I suppose that’s a valid concern given recent events,” he commented, glancing towards Ramshackle before turning his gaze back on them with a small knowing smile. “I’ll inform him afterwards. For now, don’t think that dragging this out further will somehow get you out of this.”

They let out a small yelp when they were brought a bit closer to his face. More specifically, his mouth.

“Hehe… am I that easy to read,” Syn asked nervously, rubbing the back of their neck. Their reaction was just his smile turning into a full smirk. They sighed. “Yeah, that tracks.”

The fae chuckled, pointed fangs showing for a moment in his amusement.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit enthusiastic,” Malleus hummed, a glimpse of his tongue swiping across his lips in anticipation catching them off guard. “I don’t think I’ve indulged in a delight like this for decades even if this is considered for your wellbeing.”

Opening his jaws and tilting his head back, he lifted them above his face.

White pointed fangs framed the inside of his mouth as he began to lower them, a forked tongue snaking over his bottom teeth for them to be placed on. Warm, humidity began to dampen the fabric of their pajama pants around the ankles before their feet pressed into the squishy but firm surface of his tongue as more of their weight was placed on top.

Cursing idly under their breath, Syn found themself placed atop the muscle within seconds, letting out a small noise when the two ends of his forked tongue curled over their shoulders and they were quickly drawn inside of his jaws once his fingers let go.

It was definitely a lot warmer than they were used to, but the feeling of saliva immediately drenching their clothes and hair was familiar. They tried not to think about how tasty they must be to have so much of the student body practically drooling over them so much and shifted idly.

Their movements were responded to by the tongue starting to roll them around his mouth as he began tasting them, savoring whatever flavor he could procure from their exposed skin as tastebuds pressed against them. So used to this unorthodox procedure, Syn only pressed back if things were getting a little too restricting while grumbling tiredly. But he was also probably the gentlest at this part as well, surprisingly so, as though each prod or twist would cause them to crumble in his mouth like some delicate confectionery. Still, everything was almost tense like he was very much holding back as well.

The most surprising part, however, was an unexpected rumble that seemed to emanate from the back of his maw.

“What the fuck,” they asked themself, wondering if it was a growl like Leona would emit if he ate them while particularly pissed off. But, no. They realized after a few seconds of tired confusion that he was PURRING, of all things.

Or, at least, that’s the closest thing they could equate it to.

And given all their experiences coupled with the fact that the only things they’d been around that purred were fluffy, huggable cats - sans a usually grumpy Leona who apparently CHUFFED and not purred when they asked him about it - they thought this was the most fucking adorable thing to happen whilst being eaten in their increasingly exhausted state.

So tired, surprised, and startlingly endeared, Syn didn’t realize he had stopped tasting them until the tongue beneath them pressed up for a moment and they found themself swallowed.

Yelping on instinct, they were drawn down his throat, the rumbling getting louder. A light pressure followed them until they slipped past his collarbone, notable by the increased constriction and thundering heartbeat that rivaled strong breaths from powerful lungs.

Purring, heartbeat and breathing faded slightly in the couple seconds it took for them to slip into what they would only guess was his stomach.

“Are you well, Child of Man?” Malleus asked from above, the purring lessening with the concern in his voice. “You were far more still than I expected...”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m fine,” Syn called back up, untangling themself from the bottom of the organ to settle against the stomach wall. They couldn’t help but rub an eye sleepily, feeling like the purring was definitely part of the cause. “Just tired and used to this is all… were you actually PURRING?”

They felt everything around them jolt slightly, surprising them along with a startlingly hesitant question. “I-... Yes, I was. Is that not acceptable in this situation?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” they quickly said, raising their hands despite the man not even being able to see the attempt of a placating gesture. A tiredly amused and mischievous smile wormed its way on their face, adding, “It’s cute! Not even Leona can purr apparently.”

“Kingscholar?” Malleus asked before everything fell into a brief silence that made Syn question if mentioning the lion had hit some sort of sore spot. But, the purring started back up as he said with a surprising amount of smugness. “I see… In that case, I’m glad you’re not bothered by it.”

“Not at all,” Syn replied, though they didn’t tell him that it was helping either. The last thing they needed was to give him reason to eat them again. Crossing their arms over their chest, they reminded him, “Don’t forget to let Grim know about this, okay? You don’t have to say you ate me, you can just say I’m spending the night or whatever.”

“I’ve not forgotten,” he chuckled, everything moving slightly as he presumably began to walk again. “I must ensure your sleep however, so please, listen.”

“Wait, you EATING me wasn’t the whole thing to get me to sleep?”

“No,” Malleus purred louder for a moment, amusement dripping from the one word alone. “It was merely to ensure you wouldn’t try to resist or run away. As much as your fearlessness and tenacity are endearing, it’s not ideal when you refuse my assistance.”

“Ugh, of course,” Syn groaned a bit, crossing their arms over their chest and leaning back into the stomach wall with a slight huff. “I mean, fair, but c’mon man.”

They were met with a purr-laced chuckle before he said once more, “Please, Child of Man, listen.”

“Listening,” they replied grumpily, wondering what he was going to say.

But, he said nothing.

Instead, the purring petered out and he cleared his throat before beginning to hum out a tune. A lullaby from the sound of it. It was a pleasant surprise, the song unable to be escaped from within the man humming it.

“Huh.” Syn found themself tilting their head slightly, finding the tune even more effective at taking hold of the grogginess at the edges of their mind. Before they knew it, they found their eyes struggling to remain open as their body relaxed into the curvature of the shifting wall they laid against.

With the sluggish thought that they should take advantage of the hours until class time, they allowed sleep to overtake them, slipping into dark warmth. Both within and without.

[erismor-iok]

Trade Matchup with mysteriawrites

Content Warning:

OOC for both sides

Authors note:

I am so sorry it took this long!!! But uh, Ta-da! Motivation just struck me like a day ago and I finished it in two days after putting it off for so long (Sorry) Anway, Extra's is literally just extra ideas I had that I didn't know where to put so that's why there a quality dip there always, I hope you enjoy it!

(also please forgive me for killing off your sisters, I needed them dead please don't hunt me down and kill me in return.)

Word count: 2169

I, Eris, match you up with

DILUC (Genshin Impact)

Overview:

  "I used to believe... If I were to stamp out evil, I would have to walk alone in the darkness. However, seeing your perseverance, I know I was wrong. Friend, I owe you my thanks."

 🔥 He is the sun, charging into the abyss. A raging inferno that runs throughout the night, keeping Mondstadt warm and enemies at bay. A bartender who hates alcohol, a brother to a man he loves and hates, and a boy who couldn’t protect his father

 🔥 He is a man molded by tragedy.

How you two first met:

 🔥 You met him at his lowest point.

 🔥 With blood caked into his dull red hair and a gash across his chest, he was the picture-perfect image of a dead man walking. Only barely clinging onto the thin thread of life.

 🔥 If it weren’t for you, perhaps that thread would’ve snapped, ending a flicker that has yet to burn.

 🔥 Dragging him away from the fight and into safety wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Combined with a harbinger on your tail, it was a blessing that the two of you even came out of it alive.

 🔥 Nursing him back to health wasn’t the easy part either. He is a stubborn man at the best of times, so you can imagine the headache it was trying to convince him that ‘No, this soup isn’t poison; why would I kill you after spending so much time trying to prevent your death?' 

 🔥 But when the third month of you nursing him came to a close, he eventually relented in his mistrust of you, and that is when you finally moved the pawn to the other side.

"Why did you help me?" The sun shines down, bathing the room and the two of you in its glow. Around you, piles upon piles of unread paper lay about, with secrets untold, and yet you can’t even glance at them as you stare at the man in front of you. His red glare burns at you, and you know that one wrong move would destroy the month of fragile trust he holds for you. One wrong move and this whole relationship crumbled before it even had the chance to bloom. Why did you help me? Maybe in a different world, a kinder one, one where you didn’t fail to hold onto your heart until it was ripped away, in part of your own ignorance, you could’ve claimed because you wanted to, because it was the right thing to do, and the words would’ve rang true. But those words are hollow even in your head because that kind of world is out of reach and touch due to your own foolishness. And so, willing your beating heart down, you give him a grin and extend your hand over the desk that was never yours. "I want your help," You say this, seeing a door closing and a new one opening right in front of your eyes. "Join the information guide and help me bring down the fatui."

 🔥 Under the scorching gaze of the sun, the two shook hands as the tree branches anew.

Friendship:

 🔥 You two weren’t friends after that, instead becoming business associates of sorts.

 🔥 He knew the relationship, and so did you. The game of manipulation isn’t that bad when both sides are playing. Sure, you cared for each other in the same way you cared for a queen in chess. Lose it, and the chances of victory decrease rapidly.

 🔥 But, as the day came and went, a small flower of friendship began to bloom before the two of you even realized it, and before long, the line of friends and business partners started to blur.

 🔥 Shifting through every conversation, he found nuggets of information about you and your past. Of how you despise spiders, how you care for stray animals on the streets, and how you tell yourself you're the reason why your two younger sisters are buried 6 feet under the ground you walk on.

 🔥 Of course, the last one didn’t come from a friendly chat or passing line to alleviate boredom. No, this one came from under a dying yew tree as the blank snow blanketed the two under its cold embrace. The sun setting as if it knew it had no right to witness your sorrow.

 🔥 He should’ve gone too, vanishing under the horizon like the setting sun, and yet his feet refused to move, rooted in the ground as he stared at you, leaning against the old, decaying yew tree, nursing a bottle of rum.

"I thought you didn’t drink?" You grin at him, all the humor and light in your smile gone, leaving behind the bitterness that only those who chain themselves to their ghosts harbor. "I don’t," you answer, taking another swing.

 🔥 He doesn’t know what compelled him that day, what rooted him to the ground, or what pushed him to move—not away but towards. Draping his coat around you, he slides down beside you, ignoring your look of surprise as he steals the bottle and takes a swing for himself.

 "What?" He asked, stomping the urge to smirk at the sight of your confused look. "I don’t drink either." Pressing the lip of the rum bottle against his own, he made sure your eyes followed his movements as he took another swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he felt both the burn of the liquor and your gaze on him.

 🔥 A soft chortle escapes you as you turn your head back, and he can’t help the pleased grin on his face as he passes the bottle back to you.

 🔥 And so he sat there with you, watching nothing and everything. There was no sound but the howling current and yet, he can’t bring it to regret sitting down next to you. 

 🔥 But after minutes, or perhaps hours, did you open your lip, and unveil the secrets of your past to him.

 🔥 Of how it was your sisters who established the guild, and it was they who held all the dreams and ambitions while you supported them from the sidelines.

 🔥 A decision you regretted dearly, for in your mind, it was your lack of action that caused their early demise. For if only you joined their cause or stopped them before they angered the harbingers and drew the ire of the Tsaritsa, may they still be smiling and you still hold your heart.

 🔥 But the past is written in stone, and no matter how much begging or crying, time will continue to march on, with or without you.

 🔥 And so you had to learn to live on with a hollow cavern where your heart once lay.

 🔥 Seeing you sharing a tapestry only meant for one eye alone and the eyes of the dead with him, he can't help but give his own to you.

 🔥 And so, under the old yew tree, the two broken souls shared a single bottle of rum, reminiscing and mourning their ghosts as the sun started to peak over the horizon. But, blanketed under the warm glow of the rising dawn, the two souls found new light.

In a romantic relationship:

 🔥 After that moment, your relationship truly changes into something more. Of course, it didn’t happen spontaneously, for Rome was not built in a day. But as the days came and went and as the trees' soft green leaves shifted into warm hues as they fell, you found a spark ignited between you and him. 

 🔥 It would take another 3 months, however, before his patient ran thin, confessing to you in the most unromantic manner possible.

"Go out with me." "Sorry, say again?" "Go out with me." "Diluc, we are hunched on the ground as we try to remove as many shit stains your bird has left on my favorite jacket as possible, and you think this is the best time to ask me out?" . . . "Is that a no?"

 🔥 After that shitty (pun intended) start to the relationship, did you find yourself surprised that not much has changed between him and you?

 🔥 Perhaps it’s because the lines were so blurred before you got together that you found yourself acting just like before. There were changes, of course, in how he always had an arm around your waist or how he slowly phased out your name, calling you ‘darling’ or ‘honey’ when he was feeling particularly playful.

 🔥 He has always been a man of action, and that fact is truly highlighted in a relationship. He is not a man who’ll wake you up with a soothing serenade like a bard, but he will bring you breakfast in bed and share a cup of tea as you both enjoy the quiet tranquility an early morning provides.

 🔥 In the afternoon, you both parted ways, with him fulfilling his duties as head of Dawn Wineries and you as head of the elusive information guild. But it is not uncommon to find your workload lightened due to a certain red-haired man. (Don’t mention this fact to him if you don't want to see his face light to the color of his hair.)

 🔥 The evening can go one or two ways; the first is the quiet retreat back to your guy's little bubble of peace. He’ll read a book sitting on the floor as you sit behind him, breading his crimson locks as you two soak in each other’s presence.

 🔥 Or perhaps you two would be gliding down the halls, your movements easily syncing together as you dance and dance until your feet are sore. Some days, you two would take turns belting out lyrics off-key, and some other days, you would dance to the sound of your heartbeats becoming one.

 🔥 The other option is when the evening drags a touch too long and the silence becomes defending, and so you find yourself seated at the bar, chatting away with friends as you catch glimpses from your peripheral of him, and every time he catches your eyes, he can't help but smile back at you.

 🔥 And when the sun has truly left the sky, the last bight of light bleeding out of the cold, dark skies, do you watch as the Darknight hero rises and descends down on the sinner and scum, protecting those in the sun’s absence? Is that even a question? Of course.

 🔥 You may have lost your first heart, but it was due to him and so many others that you were able to find it in yourself to pick up the shattered shards and make a new one from the remains of the old.

 🔥 To see the world, not through the haze of the ghost of the past, but with clarity to see a new dawn rising and a new branching future for yourself and him, you can’t help but smile.

Extras:

 🔥 You moved in with him after three years of him living at the base of the intelligence guild. At the time, you weren’t together, but you two did firmly have feelings for one another, so when asked, you accepted, moving the base and you to Mondstadt.

 🔥 Kaeye at first had mixed feelings about you; seeing as he already knew you due to his past dealings with the guild, he originally thought you were using Diluc until he saw the genuine love you two held for one another, at which point he backed off, becoming the supportive but ‘You know you can do better than master Diluc, right?’ friend.

 🔥 He usually is always holding you in some way. His preferred way is hand-holding if you’re out and about, but when in the privacy of your own home, it’s not uncommon to feel his arms wrapping around your waist for a surprise hug from behind.

 🔥 He is not a picky eater, not caring for what is being put inside his mouth as long as it isn’t poison, but he makes sure to make notes about your food preference.

 🔥 Whenever he notices you getting nauseous, he hands you a drink, claiming it’s a secret ‘family recipe', and every time, it clears your abdominal migraines in seconds. (You swear it’s the nectar of the archons.)

 🔥 At first, when he noticed you singing, he would quiet down or stop talking altogether, content with listening. After a while, he joined in, at first with hums barely audible, before signing full duets with you. (In the privacy of your own home, of course.)

 🔥 He loves your hobbies and greatly encourages you, buying you anything and everything you would need. (Which devolved into you also giving him gifts back, and now you two are stuck in an endless gifting cycle.)

 🔥 Knowing your love of sweets, he wanted to try to bake some for you, which caused…Let’s just say you were lucky the kitchen didn’t burn down. After that incident, however, you always made sure to join him in the kitchen, and now it’s a fun bonding experience baking with Diluc. (If you can overlook the fact that he somehow burned water.)

[robin-the-wanderer]

Here, his phone’s here! Wait a second, I know his password, lemme switch it on…

Hey! You know it’s not nice to steal, right?

i kinda dunno, man! i concur with lura down here, but wanna see what this “rotomblr” app robin obsessively uses is all bout’ too. hmmmmmmmm…

Oh, please. Robin’s away. Probably for a few hours. Days. Maybe more. But in the meantime, we get to take over his phone… because he forgot to take it along with him.

But we-

Arché no once in life hear about this row-tum-blur. It make Arché confuse, but Arché very interested in row-tum-blur, so Arché will agree Harper and take-over red metal rectangle.

See? Even Arché agrees, and HE’S from the freaking stone age.

Harper no correct, Arché from time with volcanoes and other dinosaurs, but not from human stone age.

…

oh, big guy. wassup? you’re so quiet i forget you exist sometimes.

Static, he’s 12 FEET TALL with a GLOWING POINTY THING for a head.

ooc:

Blue text - Harper the Inteleon. A slick, charming lizard with a (not-so) slight emotional side to him, he’s the main star of Robin’s team, being with him ever since he was a Sobble.

Purple text: Static the Low-Key Toxtricity. The more relaxed, laid back reptile of the team, he enjoys lazing around and playing with his friends, but is serious (and a bit of a show off) in battle when necessary.

Yellow text: Renny the Pom-Pom Oricorio. The hyperactive, affectionate little gremlin, she mainly cheers the team on but has recently starting to try her hand in battling. Could spend hours playing Flappy Bird.

Pink text: Lura the Lurantis. The mother figure of the team, she is not afraid to play devil’s advocate and has a brave, headstrong nature.

Green small text: Konpeitō the Xurkitree. Little is known about him other than the fact he is very timid, and hates battling. He saved Renny in the Crown Tundra once, and is very protective of the small bird.