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Your Love Story based on your Juno Persona Chart

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Juno, Groom, Briede PC Observations I

જ⁀➴ Groom & Briede PC Observations III

જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno aspects in Natal Chart

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Why Juno Persona Chart?

‧₊˚✩彡 The Juno Persona Chart is a Persona Chart based on the asteroid Juno (3). This asteroid represents our destined love, our future spouse.

‧₊˚✩彡 In the Natal Chart, Juno usually represents our destined love and also FS, and how they play in our life. But sometimes, we just want to know more. In this case, our Juno Persona Chart will be calculated based on the position of Juno in our Natal Chart. And so our Juno PC will be our Juno in Natal Chart but in a more detailed Chart.

‧₊˚✩彡 In this case, we can literally know more with our Juno PC. The most famous signification of a Juno PC is to know more about your Future Spouse, mostly considered as our destined love.

The two sides of Juno Persona Chart

‧₊˚✩彡 As I said, Juno PC will usually say about our Future Spouse, but, as it represents our destined love, this can actually also represent the way we are going to be with our Future Spouse.

‧₊˚✩彡 Of course, this post will be based on my personal observations with people around me. But this is still a theory, and something im still studying.

‧₊˚✩彡 But in most of cases, Juno PC actually express the love story between you and your FS as well. It's going to give you hint about where you will meet and what could happen, and how you will come to Union with your FS.

This post is a theory mostly, and observations based. If the theory happens to be verified often, I'll post a more detailed post with signs, houses and degrees.

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‧₊˚✩彡 Sun in the Juno PC could represent your first impression of your Future Spouse.

‧₊˚ Examples ‧₊˚

✩ Sun 1H: You could have love at first sight for your FS. You could find them very handsome/ pretty when you first see them. You could also find them very passionate, extrovert. ✩ Sun 9H: You could find your FS really smart when you first meet. You could look at them as older than you, or as a mentor, or they could be in an upper position for you if you work or in school. They could have a lot to teach you, and you could admire them somehow. They could also be a foreigner, and you could see them this way. ✩ Sun 4H: Sun here could mean you could feel like your FS is familiar, or they could feel like your home. You could eventually live with your FS. You could think your FS reminds you of a sibling or of a parent, you could also feel incredibly safe with your FS. ✩ Sun 10H: In this position, you could think your FS is someone you respect a lot, someone who works hard, you could also see them as a coworker, or someone well known around you. Your FS could also have a position well know or respected in society, for example, they can be married, so everyone knows their marital status. ✩ Sun 5H: You will feel like your FS is very fun, someone you will have so much fun and laugh with, you'll love their presence, you'll feel like it's easy to feel good with them. You could feel like they are quite popular, and flirty, there is something about them that just draws you to them. You feel like life is good with them, and you may want to spend a lot of time with them.

‧₊˚✩彡 Chiron 4H could mean you'll have a lot of troubles or arguments with your family because of your relationship with your FS. Or at least, there will be a problem with your relationship and your family.

‧₊˚✩彡 It's true that your Rising Sign will tell how you will meet them. It can tell the place but also the circumstances. Ruler of your Rising can say more (Sign & House of the ruler).

‧₊˚ Examples ‧₊˚

✩ Sagittarius Rising: You could meet them in college, or when you are in college. You could also meet them in school or when learning something. My Uncle has this placement, he met his FS when both of them were in College. The Ruler of the Rising is Jupiter, and it falls in the 2H in Aquarius. His FS was one of my mother's best friend, and she become close to their family and he met her in his family. The 2H represents family, and Aquarius represents friendship. ✩ Aquarius Rising: You can meet them online, one dating app, on the internet, you can receive a DM from them. You can meet them in foreign lands, in an airport, or with friends, because of friends. ✩ Virgo Rising: You can meet them at work, while working, they can be a coworker, your boss, or someone you meet at work, so could even be a client. You could meet during a random day, or when taking care of your health. ✩ Gemini Rising: You could meet them online, at school, college, when learning something, library, with friends, in a social circle, in your neighborhood, because of your family, because of your siblings, at a concert, etc.

‧₊˚✩彡 The degree on your Rising can also add details on this first meeting.

‧₊˚✩彡 Uranus can represent what will change in your life after meeting your FS.

‧₊˚ Examples ‧₊˚

✩ Uranus 4H: You could see the idea of family different after meeting your FS, or your idea of home could change. You could also have to change your family situation after meeting your FS, or your home situation. ✩ Uranus 5H: You could change your point of view about children after meeting your FS, you could also change your love life's situation after meeting them. You could end a relationship after meeting them, or you could want to be more serious. Or if you aren't dating anyone, you could want to become more romantic. ✩ Uranus 8H: Your idea of intimacy can change after meeting your FS. You could have had the idea that no one could enter in that zone before, and after meeting them, you could def feel like finally you met someone who understands on another level, and you want to make them enter in your secret world. You could finally see love in sex, without thinking of the act itself. You could want to share secrets with them. ✩ Uranus 12H: You could have a spiritual awakening after meeting your FS, or your beliefs could change after meeting them. You could feel like a cycle ended, and you can also feel more lonely after meeting them, feeling like you are very much attached to them already.

‧₊˚✩彡 Saturn could represent the possible obstacle between you and your FS.

‧₊˚ Examples ‧₊˚

✩ Saturn 5H: If you have children already, you could think this would be a complicated situation, or you could have difficulties to conceive when you meet them. You could also not want children, or you could be too childish when you meet them. One of you could already be in a relationship when you meet. ✩ Saturn 2H: Your ethic could go against this relationship, your values, etc. You could also think one person in the connection doesn't have enough money, or money could be a problem. There is a problem of stability here. You could think one of you is also not stable in their life to be together. This could also translates to not being the right moment when you meet. ✩ Saturn 10H: You could have a reputation problem when you meet your FS, you could been seen in a certain way that doesn't go well with your relationship. You could also be too busy with work. You could feel like your relationships is complicated due to your position in society or at work. You could also have a certain reputation around you that can makes things harder for your FS and you.

‧₊˚✩彡 Union in Scorpio/ 8H could mean you'll be in a secret relationship first.

‧₊˚✩彡 Mars 3H means eventually you'll have miscommunication problems.

‧₊˚✩彡 Mars Aries can mean arguments or fights, or you'll feel angry because of this connection (house could say why).

‧₊˚✩彡 Uranus conjunct Neptune could mean some illusions you had about your life before could suddenly change when you'll meet your FS.

‧₊˚✩彡 Angles seem to be quite important about your first meetings. It can represents different point of view. I'm not exactly sure of what is what right now.

╰┈➤ Get your own Future Spouse Indicators on Natal Chart for 25€ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

‧₊˚✩彡 Jupiter could represent what you will gain from this relationship.

‧₊˚ Examples ‧₊˚

✩ Jupiter 2H: You could gain a lot of stability from your relationship with your FS, you could gain money too, success, you could feel prettier or more good looking when being with them. You could gain status, possessions, wealth. This can be a sign of a long term relationship here. ✩ Jupiter 6H: You could gain stability, you could care more about your health, mental health as well. You can feel safe with your FS, you can also be more serious in general in your life. You could become more busy, but you could just be more responsible. This can be a sign of a long term relationship as well.

‧₊˚✩彡 Venus or Juno conjunct North Node there could mean meeting your FS will both help you fulfill your purpose, and this could be destiny.

‧₊˚✩彡 8H Venus could mean you'll have a secret crush, or you'll be secretly in love, trying to hide your feelings to this person.

‧₊˚✩彡 9H/ 12H stelliums can mean most of your story can happen in foreign lands.

‧₊˚✩彡 4H/ 6H stelliums can mean you'll feel the most comfortable with this person, you'll never want to leave their side.

‧₊˚✩彡 Groom/ Briede in this chart can tell us what each person of the couples do when you meet each other.

For example, I have Briede 12H in this chart, and I traveled when I met my FS. My Briede conjunct my Uranus and we met online first. My Groom is in my 7H, and ruler of the 7H is in 9H, my FS traveled as well in the same place to attend a wedding.

‧₊˚✩彡 Sun can also give us more hints about how you meet, sign and house of course.

‧₊˚✩彡 Juno on the contrary can tell us how you begin your romantic relationship.

‧₊˚✩彡 Juno conjunct Pluto can mean you'll take a long time, or longer than what you thought, to enter in a relationship.

‧₊˚✩彡 Juno conjunct/ sextile/ trine Jupiter can mean you'll recognize your FS as your future spouse when you'll meet. You'll sense or just totally know you'll marry them even on the 1st meeting.

‧₊˚✩彡 Venus could say what are your feelings towards your FS when you meet them, or what you like about them when you meet.

Thank you for reading!

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[carmenized-onions]

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

Next Part

[homunculus-argument]

Some people are oddly offended by the idea that you can naturally assume that if something feels like it should be easy to do, but nobody is doing it, then one can assume that it does not work, and that it isn't necessary to try it out for yourself to verify this. I have no problem looking at a supposedly obvious solution and going "if I can think of this, then surely someone smarter than me has already done so, too. And if someone smarter than me has not managed to do it, then neither will I. And I know that they did not succeed in it, because otherwise everyone would be doing it."

I think the people who mainly get offended by me saying "no, that won't work, because if it worked, it would be widespread" are the ones who don't believe that there are people smarter than themselves. If they have a genious solution that isn't already widely implemented, then obviously the only reason for that is because nobody else has been so smart before. And in cases where the solution is possible to execute, but it often goes terribly wrong even in the hands of experts with experience, then naturally that's a skill issue on them.

And they don't like it when I aknowledge that yes, technically speaking it could be possible to produce a home grown substitute for one of my three daily regular medications while living on an off-grid homestead. But the ingredients can't be grown at home nor sourced from nature, the process is complicated and highly risky even in experienced hands, and this kind of things are not only outside of my sphere of knowledge, but also far out of my comfort zone.

And ultimately, it simply wouldn't be very cottagecore to own and operate a meth lab.

[spac3d0lls]

my fav headcanon is that ocean and noel grew up in the same apartment complex. they were next door neighbors and noel’s mother, who was a nurse who worked late nights, wanted her son to have a friend and introduced herself and her son to the rosenbergs. she noticed that the girl was dirty and neglected, but against her better judgement, she never reported or confronted her parents. uranium is a small town—she didn’t want to make assumptions or endanger another family’s reputation knowing how fast rumors spread.

as ocean grew, so did the differences between her and noel. the adults of uranium city saw just a driven and ambitious young woman, another one of the smart ones who would pack up and leave once given the opportunity. the kids saw someone who was snotty, arrogant, and desperate for attention.

noel and his mother saw a girl who was scared and neglected.

while uranium city saw a straight a, naturally gifted valedictorian, noel slept through the sound of his door opening and quietly locking in the middle of the night, knowing that ocean would study in his tiny dining room when the stench of her own apartment became unbearable. sometimes, noel would find her asleep his the couch in the morning. those days, he’d toast bread, make coffee, and scramble eggs, leaving them on his coffee table for when ocean would wake up. there was never any expectation for acknowledging this fact, nor any expectation for a thank you. but ocean was silently grateful.

while uranium city saw a teenager who was always clean and put together, ms. gruber opened her door one day to a ten year old ocean blushing crimson, having been laughed off by her parents after she told them about her first period. ms. gruber taught her about her body, hugging her tightly after ocean started crying out of embarrassment, and realizing that her hair was greasy and knotted. since that day, she would come home with noel after school to use their shower daily, traumatized by the prospect of only bathing when rain would fall. ms. gruber kept her cabinets stocked with double the hygiene products ever since.

when uranium city heard that their rising star had been killed in a rollercoaster accident, they mourned her. but the rosenberg family never showed to verify their daughter’s body. ms. gruber tearfully confirmed that it was ocean.

[yoghurtcup]

Myth Of The Lanes

Every Place Has A Cryptid

Every culture has their myths. Even more have ones based on real events, places, and even people. This myth in question is the latter, of course. While Warwick is only known to those in Piltover and Zaun, he is a well known cryptid surrounding the deepest parts of the undercity. With only a select few knowing the truth behind the story, that truth being that he isn't a myth. Because of this fact, many avoid the Lanes at night; that of course being the crawling grounds of the Zaun-born cryptid. The undercity, if you asked anyone who did not live there, was dangerous enough during the day anyway. Which means that many have only thought of verifying the truth of the myth and seeing Warwick in the flesh if he so had any. Children dare eachother and many a drunk yell boldly of their false stories of seeing such a creature and fending it off with naught more than a bare fist. That said, only those who are used to the many alleys of Zaun or the pointed buildings of Piltover have more smarts than curiosity, this story is of someone who found themselves in the middle of discovering why come night fall, no one travels through the Lanes.

You are that someone. With this new technology heralded by some guy in Piltover, you were able to take a ride to visit the city of progress in all it's shimmering glory. And if time called for it, a quick look into the quietly spoken of undercity, Zaun. From the window of your quickly moving luxury blimp you saw spiraling towers and large buildings adorn with gold and blue trimmings. You shiver, the zap of something electrical hitting your skin even from inside, you prepare your little bag you took with you, and prepared for the surprisingly smooth landing. From the sky you knew these buildings were large, but looking up at them made you feel…insignificant. Nonetheless, there is touring to do, and you have a one way ticket to the best sites and tourist traps this city has to offer.

The tour guide was very kind, and you are known for asking many questions. You find out that the creator of this Hextech is named Jayce, and that his discovery of turning magic into a controlled science is how you got there. You suppose that is interesting, but the tour followed a strict path with hardly any people in the streets, which meant slipping away to find out about Zaun would take a pretty hefty distraction. Or in your case, truly hope that the next big important thing was near a crowd of maybe fifty. You don't do well with confrontation if more than one person could see you cause a scene.

All things have to end eventually. The tour was interesting, you think. After the fifth demonstration on how genius Hextech is and how much it means to the city of progress you tuned it all out. The crowd scatters, with everyone doing their own thing, you realize now is the time if any to find your way to Zaun and see it for yourself. You had heard from someone on the blimp that there were many ways to get there, but the easiest way was a bridge that connected them, you figure they may be right since all they spoke of was being from Piltover. They were kind enough to tell you what you wanted to know, with a vague warning that the undercity (which is what they called it, almost in disgust) was dangerous, and while the sun shone on Piltover, only the shadows hold Zaun. Whatever that could mean. Only one real way to find out.

In your humble opinion, with how the Piltians speak about Zaun, there shouldn't be a bridge so easy to cross between them. There was probably a lesson about this during the tour, but your brain fogs up trying to remember. Regardless of history, no one seems to stop you, and some people are walking past you from both cities. No time like the present, so you take your first few steps into Zaun, and the difference was stark. Large white buildings and clean streets to dark wooden homes and forcefully made dirt and rock paths. The layout of the place was confusing, and the air smelled slightly of poison. You've made it this far regardless of the feeling of unease this city gives you, and to back down from secrets is unlike you. No stone left unturned, Zaun has no idea what's coming.

Zaunites are very polite, actually. Of course there are the rude, loud and downright unwell in every place, but for the most part Zaunites are kind. They could tell just from your clothes that you weren't piltie as they call it, and Zaun while large in populace was small, no one knew who you were, but as long as you were respectful to them, they were the same to you. Many zaunites took the time to help you out, breathing techniques and places to go for food, some even took the time to tell you of the history of Zaun. A city built on a past of hard labor and revolution. Rivetting! You've always adored a place with culture, and if you are being honest with yourself, Zaun feels more alive than Piltover does. You follow a few people to the largest place in the city, a bar named The Last Drop. The outside wasn't much to go on, but warm light shone from the windows, and you could hear the conversations from where you stand. They tell you the bartender there, he's the one you go to for anything, people deem him as the leader of Zaun. He sounds intimidating, but who are you to back down now? You're already here, so you might as well.

The inside of The Last Drop was cozy, you feel like you could stay here forever. Looking around, you saw a few rowdy folk, but for some reason they kept their violence to a minimum, most bars you go to would have atleast one person bleeding over a broken table. You sit at the bar not remembering the last time you've had a proper drink. The bartender has his back turned to you, but you can tell from the pure wall of muscle that he's huge. No wonder there's no bar fighting here. You wait patiently as he deals with other patrons, he's just one guy, one big guy but just one. You stare at the wood of the bar and zone out to the sound of the music from the jukebox in the corner.

After a bit of waiting around and watching back and forth from people well into their third or fourth drink, a tap on the bar gets your attention. Looking up, you can finally see the face of the bartender, and wow. He has kind eyes, and brows that make him look always atleast a bit concerned, he looks well kept with greying hair pulled only partially into a bun. Staring doesn't get you drinks though, so you shrug and gesture to the vaguely brown looking bottles behind him. You really can't think about the last time you had a drink, but you know from just looking at him you need atleast one before you can pull yourself together to say a single word. He pours the drink for you, keeping quiet and only nodding once it's placed in your hand. The look of it makes your head spin, when was the last time you did this? Well, bottoms up.

Halfway through your first sip it hits you. It's strong, and burns the back of your throat before you can taste it, and maybe you shouldn't have asked for something that tasted so flammable but it was too late for that. You were never much of a lightweight but it seems like you won't need more than just the one cup to embarrass yourself if you aren't careful. The taste lingers after you put down the cup, and you feel yourself loosening up. Liquid courage most people call it, and now you feel you understand the sentiment.

Soon enough you feel the courage to say something, anything to the bartender. With the drink heavy in your stomach making you feel like you can pull this off without fumbling, you go to speak. That is until a patron besides you gets a bit too rowdy. The bartender turns to calm him down, and takes his hardly empty mug from his hands with a look that says he's had enough. The rowdy idiot protests loudly, and the sound of chatter dies down as the others in the bar turn to look at the issue. You shrink in your seat and hold your cup to your chest, this has nothing to do with you and you are not going to get involved.

"And I'll fuckin tell you what!" The idiot starts, slurring his words to the point that it seems impossible for anything to make sense. "You can all fuck right off! I ain't scared of none of you! Know why? I faced Warwick!" You sip your drink, and the idiot looks around with his fist raised in the air. For a good three seconds there was silence before everyone bursts into laughter. People falling over themselves and eachother as the idiot blushes in frustration. "Quit that!" He exclaims, fists now balled to his side like a toddler being told no. "I'm telling the right truth! I faced it myself and made it out alive!" You raise an eyebrow at this proclamation, but it's swept under the rug when you hear an amused snort from behind the bar.

"Right, and that ain't something I heard before." The bartender's voice makes you jump. The gravelly, smooth cadence resonates in your ears and hits you in the chest. You feel like you've just taken another sip of your drink that you had forgotten about with all the nonsense and mirth happening all at once. Unable to tell if your face is hot from the settling of the alcohol or the fact that you spent more time thinking about the single sentence that was said, you cover your face with your cup and decide it's better to not draw attention to yourself.

"You know what, to hell with all of you!" The idiot stumbles head first from the bar, the laughter finally dying down as a few stray chuckles are tossed into open air. Soon everything goes vaguely back to normal, and the bartender tends to a few empty glasses and mugs. Your cup is just about empty at this point, first drink and you're already trying to keep steady. Leaning against the bar, you watch as the bartender focuses on cleaning the same cup over and over. His fingers are very meticulous, you notice almost instantly, and despite how large his hands are he holds the glasses with poise as if he's been doing it for years which, judging by the look on his face he definitely has.

He notices you staring before you do, and with a gently raised eyebrow decides to strike up conversation. "You must be one of them tourists from topside." He tosses the dry rag over his left shoulder and places the cup down. Leaning against the bar just close enough for you to get a good look at his surprisingly grey-blue eyes and wow, his eyes are blue? Your face steams a bit again, and you almost reach for the empty cup. You nod, and realize that you may need a bit more liquid courage before jumping into speaking with him. He notices this, atleast the empty cup, and takes it upon himself to pour you another. "Unusual for someone to come all the way here, any particular reason why?" He hands you the full cup, and you down half of it. Regret stings the back of your throat like you've never felt, but it gets your blood flowing in your brain again.

"Saw a bridge during the tour, wanted to know what was on the other side." You tell him, putting the now half empty cup on the bar. This was the truth, for the most part. You don't know how to openly tell him that you heard whispers on the ride over and wanted to see what the fuss was about. He chuckles deep, and you start feeling like you'll need a third cup sooner rather than never. "That's a new one." He stands up straight, taking a glass from a patron that thanks him and places a few coin onto the bar. "See you next week eh, Vander?" The patron says as they leave, the bartender, who you now know is Vander, nods as they close the door and turns to grab his wet rag. "Hell, most pilties keep out of here, and they definitely don't come this far in." He turns to you, wiping the glass clean clearly curious still. He gestures for you to elaborate, and you realize you don't have much of a reason.

You shrug, truth be damned you just wanted to see what it was like here. You have no regrets in satiating your initial curiosity, but after the little spat that happened, you have more questions. "Really, I just wanted to see what was going on. Kind folk led me here, that's all." You actually sip your drink this time after explaining yourself, something about his face just feels comforting the more you look at it. You're almost positive that isn't the drink talking. Vander gives a half smile, maybe you said something he liked? You are truly unsure. You finish off your drink and decide against a third. Placing a few bits of currency that you aren't sure can be properly exchanged here. "Sorry…" you feel embarrased, you don't know about the foreign money policies here, but Vander doesn't seem to mind. "You paid, and that's good enough in my books."

After a few more minutes of a very comfortable silence, you decide that it would kill you to not atleast ask. "What's a Warwick?" Vander glances at you as he dries off a few more mugs and cleans off the bartop. "A myth." He says simply, case closed. Except that isn't good enough. "Sure, a myth. But that weirdo was adamant about seeing whatever it was…" He puts the mug he had dried down a bit harshly, cutting your sentence off. "It's a myth, he was drunk. That's it, alright?" He raises a brow at you, and you take that as a hint that you shouldn't push. You nod and stand slowly. "It's…probably late right? I need to find a hostel or something." You try to guess the sun position from the window, but no luck. You pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

"Be safe." Vander says as you walk towards the exit. You would have waved off his words if not for two very important things. First being you were certaintly more than a bit tipsy. The second and most jarring is well, you have no idea how to get back to that bridge. The smart thing would be to ask someone for help, and even inebriated you knows better than to wander on your own. However, you are feeling particularly stupid after two cups, and you want to know where these alleyways go. Before you can talk yourself out of something as stupid as getting yourself lost while drunk, your feet start moving. Soon enough the lights of The Last Drop fade into the distance, and if you looked back you wouldn't know which right or left would take you back. It's cold in a dark alleyway, you've learned just now. How could you be so damned stupid? You decide that it's better to stop. Your legs hurt, and it could be easier to get back to the bridge if someone walked by. You sit on your bag and look at your surroundings, you somehow stumbled onto an opening. The problem? No one is around. From the looks of it, anyone who would be around left not long before you showed up. It was eerie and quiet, and you have no idea how it became night so fast.

You need to keep moving, is the thought you had. The chill air and sudden feeling of being watched sobered you enough to a point where you realized how dumb you had just been. Getting to your feet you take your bag and sprint. Paranoia has you assuming something is following you, the quiet of the city is convincing you that you may just be going a bit mad. Either way, you catch yourself getting more lost, and you eventually collapse from the pain in your legs. Damn it all, why didn't you just stay at the Last Drop? Exhaustion hits you before frustration, and you are too tired to scold yourself for this blunder. Leaning against a wall you take time to catch your breath, the smoggy air of Zaun filling your lungs and making you choke. Whatever. You close your eyes, and as much as you'd prefer a warm bed, this is the best you're getting for tonight.

Until something wakes you up. It isn't ideal to be awoken mid dream, but you figured it was some passerby wondering who you were and why you were asleep against a wall. For a time, you don't open your eyes, and try to ignore whoever is standing over you. That doesn't last long though, because this person refuses to leave you alone, your brows furrow as you realize you aren't going to get any sleep this way. With a huff you open your eyes, and you expected a person, like a normal Zaunite doing a nightly sweep or something. Instead, you see a large, hulking beast. All fur and fangs and two eyes with different colours staring you down with an intention you can't read from your exhausted state. You freeze in fear seeing this thing tower over you like this, and you bet that even while standing it could dwarf you with ease. You have no idea what it is, and before you can proccess anything it reaches for you. Between the several feelings you have and the speed this thing can move, you find yourself saying one final thing before you were knocked out cold. "Warwick?"

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

Hello! May l request a Yandere Childe Headcannons with a GN darling who is like Dazai Osamu from Bsd?

B-But...you're my only darling anon. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) ( Also GN means Gender Neutral right? And does darling pertain to anything, or is it like, a personality trait? Sorry, I am not with the times, I am a hermit, but want to clarify, and try my best. Sorry if my writing didn't meet that need )

Trigger Warning: Suicidal jokes, self harm, stalking, Yandering.

Childe as a yandere, he would often stalk you, and take your things without you realizing it. Such as your garbage, broken and used makeup containers, half eaten foods, anything that has "you" on it.

He would often try and get your schedule down and memorize your address.

For a while, he stayed in the shadows and watch you, and even have articles of your clothing on him, near him, with him, ones he stole from your closet that you don’t wear, or ones you have thrown away.

However, he noticed that you were talking to men more, and hanging more out with other men. This made his face go dark and his eyes go blank.

Despite being in the fatui, he was smart enough to not make a move yet, but he was planning to make a move.

Now over a few months, he would purposely bump into your shoulders, and return certain things to you, as if you lost it.

You would see this, and as friendly as you are, you would make jokes with him, and be friendly to him. Even make suicidal comical jokes which Childe would pretend to laugh or pretend to be off putting by it. But he loved every moment of it. Maybe he can be your savior, get you to depend on him.

However, things hit the fan when he saw a friend of yours, a small male friend of yours was getting particular close to you, he was able to hold back by digging into his hands and scratching his arm deeply to remind himself of his place...as he watched this man put his arm around you, and wipe food off your cheeks.

But, this man crossed the line, he kissed your cheek with a blush on his cheek and yours. Childe gripped his arrows as he wanted to shoot it through his head and licked that kiss off your lips.

At that moment, he devise a plan. He will change his stalking routine, and stalk the man that kissed you and try his best to not kill but scare him enough to never return again.

At night, around 2:45 am, he followed this man who dare to taint you with his slobbering disgusting lips, into his home. He had been for a few days, so at this time, he hopped through the window waited behind the bedroom door.

Once the man walked through, and took off his coat, Childe walked up and pushed the man on the bed, he climbed on top of the man and held a knife to his mouth. "H-Huh?! W-Who are you!?" Childe pushed his knife into his mouth and glared down at him.

"Such disgusting lips...I want to mutilate them..." Childe glared down at the man.

He grabbed the man's cheeks hard and held a knife to his lips, ready to carve it off, until he was interrupted.

"So it was you." You were standing behind Childe watching him.

Childe turned around with a shocked but dark face. "You..." His face then turned into a delusional expression with crippling glee. "Ahaha, you noticed me and talked to me...my dear, give me a few moments, I need to deal with this pig..."

You then walked to Childe, and gently stroked his cheek, with a gentle smile of your own. "I always noticed you. For months, behind the tea house, taking me things, I always knew...I just had to lure you out with a bait..."

Childe smile turned into a dumbstruck face slowly, as his eyes glanced at the man behind him without turning his head, a man who had no idea he was the bait at all.

Childe gaze then turned back to you, as your hand was still on his cheek. However, your face still had a sweet smile, that was now the scariest thing to be witnessing right now.

You ran your fingers across his lips. "Life...living, it's all so meaningless, yet you found a way to cling onto life through me and use me to verify your living...how ironic..."

You then pulled away, keeping the smile. "By the way, there was poison on my hands, please enjoy the next 5 hours as best as you can, okay?~"

Childe's eyes widen as he realized that his lips suddenly started to feel...tingly.

[victoriadallonfan]

There's Shadiversity drama????

I just know him as the funny shout man complaining about back sheaths.

Oh you have no idea.

Dude is an absolute alt-right moron. He got upset his daughter enjoyed Princess Peach, because Princess Peach wore pants and wasn’t a damsel in the Super Mario movie.

He openly says that he doesn’t believe people of the same sex should be able to get married.

He follows Matt Walsh (open fascist and Nazi), and several other white supremacist/alt-right YouTubers/podcasters/comic writers (including that former Injustice artist who went on to work on the “Blacklist Comic Universe”… because he got banned from mainstream comics for being an asshole)

He openly believes that women are biologically inferior to men and that they should be satisfied with the “soft power” they have as “home makers” and not focus on politics or wanting more rights.

He wrote a book called “Shadow of the Conqueror” which has a Mary Sue Hitler/Stalin/Mao expy who is 90 years old be given a “sexy” 17 year old body and tries to romance one of his many rape victims (who was 14 when the MC raped her as an adult btw, which makes her 40 years old by the time of the story starts…) and then beats her up and mocks her when she realizes he’s her rapist… while also claiming he can’t die because being allowed to live and see how much he’s hurting her is “a punishment greater than death”) to him.

Also when he’s confronted by all his former rape victims, the MC notes that the ones who were REALLY upset were women who didn’t get pregnant from said rape. Also also, any woman who is raped and exposed to darkness in the setting turns into sex crazed succubi (only the women and only by men; men can’t be raped or molested, not even his son whom the MC kills by impaling anally with a broken piece of wood) . Not that you would notice because literally every single woman, especially the sexually abused ones, throw themselves at the MC to have sex with them

You know what, go watch this review of the book

Anyways, after the book came out and more and more people started to realize this book is awful, sexist, homophobic (guess how many times the MC calls his friend gay… even for things as simple as “hey do you want to just walk around town and enjoy the view?”), and rape apologetic, Shad then created a video where he decides to read only positive (some of them non verified book purchasers) recent reviewers but is not smart enough to edit out the negative reviews that he scrolls by, so you can pause the video and read the ones that point out how bad the book is.

He is just a stupid, petty, bigoted man

[oogaboogaspookyman]

Buzi fic let's muthafuckin gooooooooooo

B belongs to @ilovejoll !

[REDACTED] belongs to me!

[GOOD TEAM]

Back to that fuckin' camp... Great.

It's dark, it's rank, it's got a rancid, sinister and genuinely discomforting and dark aura, it's the place where one of her traumatic moments have transpired.

Uzi killed and ate her classmates here.

All this for a sighting...

And yet the four walked, around and about, searching like born hunters...

...

That's funny.

Uzi, N, V, and B (don't say anything about the names), they all walked and searched every nook and cranny, whatever cabin they found it's searched, because of this one Solver drone a group encountered that was, and Uzi quotes during the walk to the camp, "abnormally friggin' tall and chuckled a lot"

One guy even reportedly went missing after this encounter.

This new threat must be destroyed, there shall not be a season 2 of this bullshit.

Thud.

"I don't think it's here, weirdo" B spoke. Weirdo. Fuck's sake.

"It's Uzi, strawberry, and i'm sure if we look harder we'll find it, we already got traces of the guy so they must be here!" Uzi was confident after said traces were found... And N didn't seem to know when to quit being optimistic and supportive of Uzi, seriously the moment they got together it's like the entire planet was doomed to deal with these two dorks!

One of those dorks is your brother. You care about him. Do it for him. B sighed at the thought.

"We'll go a little further, and if we find it we kill it and we all go home, but if we don't..." B sounded threatening there, especially getting closer and whispering the next words in her sound receptor.

"You're dead to me. Having wasted our time."

Hot. That's not me saying it, i only say her thoughts out loud

"We'll find the weird analog horror freak, babe! I hate it when she's right, believe me, but we did find traces of this weirdo being around and we still find more!" V popped up from outta nowhere the interrupt the moment of intimacy intense mutual hatred, and showed off a piece of paper in her hand "Like this note i caught in a cabin!"

V flipped the note around, showing off... Something???

Uzi and N felt shivers run down their spine as V showed off the note.

"Haha! That's not ominous at all nope!" N and Uzi said in unison, perfectly. They took note of this.

"Jinx!"

V gagged at the sight of the Nuzi duo chuckling and giggling like little kids. B just glared at Uzi like she was a bad influence...

If it's of any consolation, they bother me too

"You don't get to talk, little shit" V growled at Uzi's tail.

Suddenly they stumble upon a strange... Cave??? In the camp?? At this time of year, at this time of day, in this part of the planet, localized entirely within this camp??

I had some fun while i could, it seems. Smiley face

"Shut" Uzi then squinted, as if it's going to make comprehending easier, and...

[PROCESSING WUTEVR THIS IS]

[���️◻️◻️◻️◻️_______]

Yes it's a cave! A very ominous, red, fleshy cave that destroyed an entire cabin, turning it into a gruesome wooden outer layer for itself and thus taking it's place!

"aaAAHAHAHAa OKAY UZI UHHH... DO WE ENTER OR DO WE BURN IT ALL DOWN" N chuckled with lots of fear in his voice.

"If we burn the cave it's going to burn the entire forest too, and as much as i'd love that it's very important and i know there's others who love this forest as much as i hate it" Uzi sounds so smart when she explains things, it made N's core flutter... Aside from beating a little too fast at the sight of the cave and the general aura of the camp.

FIND ME

FIGHT ME

HOW WELL DO YOU FARE

Uzi turned around fast.

Oh i know this one!

She grimaced at this, hearing a robotic male voice coming from... Pretty much nowhere and at the same time as if it's behind her, and looked at everyone else to verify that she's not crazy.

N, V, and B all look just as unsettled. She's not crazy then.

"We're going home, gang, fuck this and fuck everyone" B began walking away while holding up two middle fingers.

Something was wrapped around their leg.

Catch

It's Uzi's fucking tail.

"We don't know what this is, it could be something worse than... It, and if that's the case, then we have to put a stop to it... As much as i hate this, it has to be done"

B hates when Uzi is right... They groaned "FINE let's get this over with" as they walked back to the area and swapped their hands with claws...

Let's go down in the belly of the beast...

Haha, Uzi scolded you

"She didn't scold me, freak" B growled at Uzi's tail. Y'know- the moment this thing began to speak, they knew it meant something terrible was coming. (Whether i mean they as in the group or B alone is up to you lmao)

Gross.

It's all wet, squishy, bloody flesh from top to bottom.

Massive, disgusting, grotesque.

This cave is nothing but blood and gore.

As the group walked, something began to pulsate from the ground Uzi walked on...

"GAH ROBO CHRIST!!" It blew up and blood landed on her face and clothes.

V could only giggle. Of course she'd giggle.

"Bite me, what if this happened to you!"

"I'd lick it off, period. Likely tastier than you~"

Uzi just. Glared and made a face that spelled out Why Are You Like This™

Gross, gross, gross, fucking gross.

Giggle

"Quiet you!" Uzi hissed at her own tail. You look crazy rn lol

Gurgling from further away..?

Uh oh spaghetti-os

"What the..??" B knew it meant something was wrong but they couldn't quite put a finger on it...

Until a spot in the ground began to pulsate, as if something was trying to get out and make itself known.

"Holy- V WATCH OUT!" B yelled as she tackled V out of the radius.

A tendril bursts from the ground, the spot that was pulsating before, and attempts to grab whatever was unfortunate enough to end up in it's clutches.

That being B.

"N GET OUTTA THERE!!" And Uzi, as she tackled the frozen in fear N out of it's reach.

B and Uzi are grabbed by tendrils, and right after dragged into the depths of the flesh cave, screaming.

"UZI!!!" N screams, fear in his voice and his heart beating at it's fastest, meanwhile V is quiet, in shock from what she just witnessed...

They've both lost people they care about...

"Ow... Robo god my head..." Uzi said under her breath, slowly getting up from a rough fall...

"Uzi..? Are you okay..?" She heard a familiar voice speak to her, a worried tone in their voice... B???

"No way you're telling me that, strawberry... Yeah i'm fine, i've been through much worse..." Uzi got up and dusted herself off.

B sighed "Let's get this over with before any of us die here, no bonding things, capiche?"

"Alright alright, no need to get pissy over caring about me~" she said smugly before–

"I care because N cares, if he didn't you'd be dead meat the moment we met. He's my brother and a fucking ray of sunshine, so you better behave."

Woah

"..." Uzi didn't know what to feel or think of this... It hit way too hard to really know what to feel... Maybe something like sadness? Something similar...

But she's not a feelings person, she's an edgy tough fighter that became GOD some time ago! She's not gonna let that persona fall apart now!

"Gee alright..." was all she could muster, seeing no other choice of words to respond... Whatever that was.

B swapped their left hand with a flashlight, looking for some sort of exit or way forward...

And a way forward there is. In the shape of a drone.

A freakishly tall drone with a blank, empty visor, also a tattered, dark blue robe and grey spiky hair. It's him.

A song began, somewhere. A very corrupted, broken song, making the sight of him standing all the more sinister.

Excited. Here we go~. Smiley face

You found me!

I'm so glad!

And now

He crouched, going from standing tall to crawling on all fours.

We get to play!

Yay!

Every spoken word, he moved like his body was made of a rubber hose, at times even twitching and shaking.

My name is Pen, and you are Serial Designation B and Uzi Doorman

How does he know all that?!

"Wha- wha- wh- what are you?!" Uzi stammered from the sheer terror, whipping out her railgun as B showed off their right hand, the huge steel claws, and the red nanite acid tail, preparing themself to strike the moment Pen made any move... And subconciously using the other hand to put it in front of Uzi, protecting her.

What am i? Ahhh... Good question there, miss Doorman!

I'm a host of the Absolute Solver, it seems...

His head twitched and shook for a short moment...

And i sense quite a lot of it, too, coming from

He crawled closer, his body clicking like clockwork, somehow not getting sliced and diced by B... Turns out, they're frozen in fear too, shaking.

You

Miss Doorman

His blank, empty, dark visor stared into Uzi's core...

But enough chit chat!

He quickly shifted and thrashed about back away from the two.

Let's get started with the games!

Let's have some fun!

Let's play together!

Just us three!

It's going to be so much fun!

As Pen lifted a hand...

"NO!"

SLASH...

Ah

My hand

B cut it off

Turns out, B did indeed swing forward and cut off one of Pen's hands.

That's something!

Why the fuck does he act like it's nothing

B lunged forward, and got smacked away by the remaining hand of Pen, and said hand is blasted into oblivion by Uzi's railgun. Well. More like whole arm.

"Shit i missed!" She hissed, as she did indeed miss! You missed! How could you miss, he was three feet in front of you!

Rude

Uzi is grabbed by the previously chopped off hand and thrown away from himself like a kid's toy, sending her railgun away from it's owner.

Where did that hand come from?? Can he regenerate?!

No matter, it's a fight he's looking for then it's a fight he'll get...

B and Uzi stand back up to have a go again and let out a war cry as they run straight towards Pen.

LET'S PLAY, FREAK

It's a battle against just another liar.

When Pen is engaged in combat, all he does is scramble, thrash about, climb and crawl around like a spider and lunge forward when they're both lined up, causing both B and Uzi to get tackled and taken down.

When he is down, suddenly the room goes dark and both B and Uzi are grabbed and thrown away like plushies. And yet they keep getting back up to try again.

He likes to fuck with his prey, it seems...

At least it means Pen can be defeated.

Uzi, having landed conviniently perfectly from a throw, aimed her railgun at Pen once more, this time for the core. Which was hard to do, as his entire body moved like he was one rubber hose, thrashing about wildly and bending and shifting and whipping.

"Fuck!" Uzi shouted, which caused Pen to hear her cuss and grab her from afar as he threw B away.

Language, miss Doorman

I don't appreciate that kind of tone

I think i should punish you for that

And i know just what to do

Uh oh spaghetti-os.

"DO NOT TOUCH HER!"

SLASH...

B flew into the scene and chopped off the arm Uzi was trapped in, and suddenly it felt like time slowed down.

Oh holy shit.

The sight of B, in the air having chopped off one of Pen's arms, the one that held Uzi in his grasp, their hair flying in the wind of the momentum. That long, silver, fluffy, absolutely gorgeous hair.

...

B looked at her, apparently taking advantage of time having slowed down, and smiled so sincerely..? Why???

"[I gotcha]" their screen displayed.

She nodded and smiled back, as she fell and landed on her feet, and raised her railgun once more.

"B! Restrain him for me!"

"Copy that." Woah they love dropping that deep voice card don't they.

B, SOME-FUCKING-HOW, swapped their right hand for the laser and cut Pen's limbs off with it in the air in a half-moon swipe, and soon after they manage to pin him to the wall with their tail to his head.

Oh

Well

We had a good run

Well played, duo

See you another day

Bt Ofm kpplfc pm bs sgf kjsskf ovqokf hjqk, bjnjmh gfq spz bs gjt dpqf, gf efks, epq pmdf jm gjt kjef, xgpkf.

Boom

"Thanks for saving my ass back there..."

"It's nothing... Really, it's nothing, it means nothing-"

"Oh my robo GOD B COULD YOU STOP WITH THE TSUNDERE SHIT" B got startled at the sudden yelling from Uzi. They feel scolded now.

"You saved me and i saved you, we saved each other, because we both care about N and apparently each other too- if it's of any consolation i didn't want this either but does it look like i have control over my feelings?! No! No i don't!"

B looked on as Uzi went on her crazy tangent about feelings and reppression and so on so forth, essentially scolding them, and at some point...

"Okay i get it, now quiet! Christ you can be so annoying sometimes..."

...

...

...

Sigh

"Thanks, i guess... We made a good team..."

...

Uzi could only smile at that. They're right, they do make a good team...

"Yeah..."

"UZI!!!!!!"

Here comes big brother

UH OH SPAGHETTI-OS.

One mighty tackle hug full of love from a worried and happy N took her down once and for all! The evil is defeated! (No it's not, i'm being goofy here lol)

And now it's B's turn in getting taken down, from the small yet strong and feisty V, running full speed at B to give a tackle hug too, causing them both to fall down. V then proceeded to kiss the everloving fUCK out of B because god damn she missed them.

"Woag............" Is all B could muster.

"Are you okay Zi?! Are you hurt?! Traumatized?! Did someone try to do bonding things with you that wasn't B?!"

"I'm okay N i'm fine, heheh-" Uzi chuckled and then fell into a giggle fit when N began nuzzling into her neck.

...

Uzi looked at B, who was smiling at her once more. Surprised, then another sincere smile too.

[You did great]

[So did u]

[Thanks]

[Same]

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

The Alpha's Alibi (Hannigram) - shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham // Tags: season 2, Futamono canon divergence, omegaverse, alpha Hannibal, omega Will, AU season 2 where Will isn't in BSHCI and Hannibal doesn't hook up with Alana, Will in Hannibal's dress shirt, dark Will, unexpected rut, chasing, rough sex, mating, mating bite, biting, bonding, knotting, come inflation, Hannibal is whipped, can be read as traditional or multisex omega. WGA prompt fill.

A fill for the upcoming WGA Server omega Will fest. Prompt = Please please, to anyone who is bored but creative. All I want in life is Jack asking Hannibal if anyone can vouch for him being at home all night while in his red sweater and then Jack’s omega bloodhound comes down the stairs only in Hannibal’s barely buttoned white dress shirt all wrinkled and says he can since his alpha was pleasing him all night. And Hannibal is quick to go along with it though Will is definitely not his omega nor was he in his bedroom last night. And then they mate when Hannibal finds out Will knows and wants him anyway. Please!

Will gives Hannibal an alibi and wants something in return.

The Alpha's Alibi (2k):

In hindsight, Hannibal should have asked Alana to stay. 

He wasn’t entirely inclined towards the beta, but she’d made her interest increasingly clear over the years, not least at the dinner party the previous evening, and an alibi would have been smart. It would have been smarter still not to underestimate Jack Crawford - the intimidating alpha that now stood in his foyer. 

He glowered at Hannibal as he spoke. 

“Abel Gideon fell down a stairwell last night. He was hospitalised and the security guard standing watch has been killed, in what appears to be another Chesapeake Ripper murder. Gideon is nowhere to be found.”

“He escaped?” Hannibal queried.

“We know he didn’t leave the hospital on his own, his back was broken, he was taken.” The words were stern and his accusatory gaze didn’t waver. “By someone. Someone who knew him.”

Hannibal remained silent, offering nothing.  “Where were you last night?” Jack continued. 

Hannibal let out a sigh, trying to convey his disappointment in the accusation. “I was here.”

“All night?” It was clear Jack didn’t believe him. 

“Yes.”

“Anyone other than yourself that can verify that,” it didn’t even sound like a question, Jack’s tone incredulous. 

“I can.”

Both alpha’s attentions were drawn towards the omega that had entered the room behind Jack, his slight frame wrapped in the dress shirt Hannibal had been wearing the evening before. 

“I was with Hannibal all night, Jack,” Will claimed, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Jack’s surprise was clear as he glanced between Hannibal and Will. It was shocking, to be sure. Not just because Will had been trying to convince everyone for quite some time that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper, and now that it could potentially be proven, he was the alibi. But also because Will had not attended the party the night before. 

Will hadn’t stayed the night. 

Continue on AO3

[wulfums]

I have like. Such extensive backstory HCs for Grim and Gnarly and I just never talk about it. They just live in my head. I think abt them almost as much as I think abt Allan, I like them a Lot.

I had developed Grim's backstory pretty heavily but not Gnarly's, so I've been thinking abt his.

My take on him is that he had insanely shitty parents who did not like or care for him. He left at 16 and couch surfed. His first job was at a butcher shop. The owner, Butcher John, was very gruff, kind of rude and standoffish, but he really did take Gnarly in. This guy in the few years Gnarly worked there was more of a dad to him than his actual dad ever was. Neither of them were ever comfortable with Gnarly calling him that, and neither were ever comfortable talking about feelings, trauma etc. All Gnarly knows is that Butcher John went through something similar as a kid.

Something about Gnarly is he is genuinely smart. But no one ever expects this from him. He has dyslexia and some trouble reading and teachers and especially his parents always assumed that meant he was Stupid. He's not!! But he grew up thinking this so he never really tried, because what was the point ?? And in high school he really embraced the "Cool guy, doesnt care about anything" image. He also was really averse to doing anything seen as non-masculine. Gnarly always grew up more into boys than girls(And later figured out he didn't like girls at all, he just felt like he had to) and his parents were Not happy about that, to say the least.

But this also led to him not embracing things he liked that didn't fit that mold. Until his idol and basically adopted dad came home with a guy. Gnarly genuinely had no idea Butcher John was queer. He was the most masculine person Gnarly knew, ever. When he was told "I'm not doing any of this to be masculine. I'm just doin it because I like it." it really hit him. So he started letting himself doing things seen as nerdy, like reading. He found out he loves reading historical fiction and non-fiction, as well as fantasy. He started taking piano lessons, too, in addition to guitar lessons.

Even though he felt more self confident, he still was convinced he wouldn't be smart enough to get into college. But he did- on scholarship. This led to him feeling like he was taking it away from someone else, dealing w imposter syndrome, before John encouraged him(Along with John's now husband! Also named John. Which is why the OG John is referred to as Butcher John.)

Even though Gnarly never refers to him as his dad or anything, he keeps in close contact with him even as an adult. The only time he ever saw Butcher John cry was when Gnarly called him, after being able to escape Hell. Until Griddle happened and Gnarly introduced Griddle to the Johns- that also made Butcher John cry.

Fun fact: Nowadays, Butcher John is a vegan. He doesn't regret being a butcher, considering he always used every part of the animal (His husband is a taxidermist! Its how they met.) and always modeled and taught Gnarly respect for nature. But when he wasnt able to verify exactly where the meat was coming from anymore after farms stopped being local, he closed his shop and went vegan. Hes a little preachy about it, but Gnarly know its out of a deep respect for animals. (Though vegan, John is fine with using vintage animal product clothes such as leather.)

Gnarly still hunts, and is as far as vegan as you can get, esp since deer are insanely overpopulated near Meep City. But respect for nature is a big thing for him, which is why he loves taking camping trips with Gristle- and once Griddle and Gnasty are old enough, them too!!

He still struggles heavily with anxiety, self doubt and imposter syndrome. But he has a family now, which is more than he ever had as a kid.

Also, when he found out his dad kicked the bucket, he came home to Gristle and Grim throwing him a surprise party to celebrate, which Gnarly appreciated SO much. Fuck that guy !!

I need to design The Johns since they're important figures in Gnarly's life. They're like. The opposite of Grim's mom.

[bhavnapurohit]

Switched to Verified Smart Homes - Nahar Amaryllis Towers & Plaza

The Amaryllis Tower and Plaza are located in the vast township of Nahar's Amrit Shakti in Chandivali. It is one of Nahar Group's finest and most well-planned new ongoing projects in Mumbai; it consists of 1 BHK, 2 BHK, and 3 BHK Verified Smart Homes In Mumbai that are designed to give you the comfort and space you need to feel at home. The Nahar Group is known for its dedication to quality and customer satisfaction and meticulously designed Amaryllis Towers & Plaza. The project aims to meet the needs of people looking for a modern lifestyle that is also convenient and close to essential amenities.  It is located in close proximity to key business hubs, educational institutions, healthcare facilities, and entertainment options.

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 40

Ask and you shall receive. 😏 I've been sitting on this update for a while now and I can't believe it's time to share it. We are so close to the end of this fic and it just floors me completely how far this story has come. 🥺 On a side note, I have something very special coming for the 3rd anniversary coming in July. Stay tuned for more! 💙💚💜

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 9,125

A few weeks after their getaway, Azriel was ready to pop the question. He took the day off to prep the penthouse, asking for help from Rhys and Feyre in setting up seeing as Nesta and Cassian were locked down at home in prepping for their newest arrival as they approached Nesta’s due date. He ordered an atrocious number of flowers (as Elain would likely put it), both red roses and blush-colored peonies alike. Even went as far as requesting cases of rose petals to line the walkway from the elevator to the piano. It would be a mess to clean up but she was worth every effort.

He and Rhys had managed to swivel the instrument around so it faced the elevator doors rather than the window so he could watch her as he played. At least a hundred candles were sporadically placed about the room and kitchen, giving off enough light to see clearly while having the regular ones turned off.

It was every shade of romantic. And, of course, he didn’t want to miss getting her reaction on film, so he grabbed a few of the small cameras from work and hid them amongst the décor to capture her and him from multiple angles.

Everything was perfect—exactly how he envisioned the proposal. His siblings bid him goodbye, once they finished helping him, not wanting to get caught by Elain when she made her way home.

He was just sprinkling the last of the rose petals on the floor, already in his most expensive suit and tie when Fenrys texted him and told him they had just left the hospital.

Azriel’s nerves kicked up—such an unusual emotion for him to experience. It’s not like he thought Elain wouldn’t say yes, but they never had really talked about marriage aside from those blind statements about being the only one for each other back when they first got back together. He wanted to make it a complete surprise, hence the at-home proposal rather than getting her dressed up to go out. Azriel had no worries that Elain wouldn’t care about whether she was in some dress or a pair of scrubs.

He checked his pocket for the fifth time since he had gotten dressed, verifying the box was still inside. The ring itself was stunning. There really was no other way to describe it. Rose-gold in color, it was large, though not ostentatious enough that Elain would be hesitant to accept it. The band looked like a vine, with leaves at the top, framing a three-tiered diamond center. It was masterfully crafted to look like a flower, something he specified when he helped design it. The ring was intricate, one-of-a-kind, and hands down the most beautiful piece of jewelry he’d ever laid his eyes on.

Az took a seat at the piano, stretching his fingers as he waited. The ding of his phone announced that Elain was in the elevator on her way up to the penthouse. Taking a deep breath, Azriel set his scarred fingers on the keys and began to play.

The doors pinged open and she stepped out slowly. Even from across the room, he could see the emotions on her face. Surprise at first. Maybe a little disbelief. And then the realization of what was happening. Silver lined her incredible doe eyes as she looked across the room at him.

And then, he started to sing.

What would I do without your smart mouth? Drawing me in and you kicking me out. You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down. What's going on in that beautiful mind? I'm on your magical mystery ride. And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, But I'll be alright.

Elain strolled closer, having dropped her bag on the floor without a care in the world. Tears were rolling down her flushed cheeks as he continued singing.

'Cause all of me, Loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges, All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you. You're my end and my beginning, Even when I lose, I'm winning.

Azriel sang with every inflection of his voice. Every piece of his heart was put out on display for her. His love, his joy, and his dedication to her mixed into the words he poured from his very soul.

I give you all of me. And you give me all of you, oh oh.

And when he was finished, she was crying in earnest at the side of the piano, fingertips covering her mouth. He slid off the bench, standing in front of her before sinking onto a single knee.

Elain choked out a sob. The emotion, the love on her face was enough to make his heart stop.

Azriel gave her a broad smile. “Elain Violet Archeron—my love. You have always been the brightest shining star in my life. From the moment I met you, I knew you were going to be someone special in my life. Little did I know that the girl that I sat next to in biology, the one that I pegged with a soccer ball in gym class would one day become the love of my life.

“I have never met anyone as kind as you. As generous and loving. As resilient as you. Despite all that we’ve been through—and knowing this proposal is coming over a decade late—we’ve built this incredible, beautiful, beyond-my-wildest-dreams life together. There isn’t anyone else I would rather share it with.” He flicked open the box, enticing a gasp from her chest. “So, my sweet, my love, my Elain… Would you do the absolute honor of marrying me?”

Elain fell to her knees, weeping, and clutched him to her. “Az,” she croaked, barely able to get the words out.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her up as her body shook from the force of her sobs. Kissing her temple, he waited until she calmed down enough to speak.

“I can’t believe you did all of this…” she murmured, sniffing and wiping the tears from her eyes.

Cupping the side of her face, Azriel brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. “You deserve all of this and more, El.”

She laughed softly. “Who knew you were such a romantic.”

“Well, this romantic is still waiting for an answer to my question.” He needed her to answer more than he needed oxygen in his lungs. Blood in his heart.

Those beautiful, brown eyes, shining bright with golden hues flicked up to his face. “Yes.” A broad grin overtook her face. “My answer is yes. It has always been yes.”

Seizing her mouth in a ferocious kiss, Azriel pushed his utter bliss, his love and devotion, his overwhelming need for her into that single moment. Kissing her was like tasting spring. It was lovely and sweet and warm.

It was home.

Azriel had found his home in her, and he vowed to himself to never let anyone take that away from him.

She gripped his shirt, pulling him harder against her before she flattened her palm on his chest, clearing her throat in an indication that he should put the ring on her.

He did just that, removing the ring from the box and sliding it over her finger. It fit perfectly. “You know, this is the first time you haven’t complained about receiving jewelry from me.” It was a terrible joke, but Elain laughed.

“Would you like me to complain?” she teased.

A nervousness touched his face, something he knew she picked up on. “If you don’t like it, then yes.”

Elain cupped his cheeks between her palms, the coolness of the ring a stark contrast to his heated skin. “Azriel, I love it. It’s beyond anything I ever pictured myself wearing. Wherever did you find it?”

His thumb swept under the back of her scrub, finding the soft skin of her spine. “I had it custom-made with my specifications. I wanted you to have something that was uniquely yours. That nothing similar would ever sit on somebody else’s hand.”

Crawling onto his lap until her knees were slotted on either side of his hips, she stroked his cheek with her fingers, leaning forward to kiss him softly. “You are, without a doubt, the most thoughtful man I have ever met. And this ring,” she held her hand between them, “is the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid my eyes on. But it means even more to me because you had a hand in its creation. I will never stop questioning what I have done to deserve you.”

He pressed her palm to his chest, over his heart. Let her feel its thundering beat. “You deserve better than me, Elain. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that you made the right choice in me.”

“We deserve each other, Azriel. You are my life, my always.” Like she needed to prove it to him, she kissed him, melting into his embrace as she pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders and then started working on his tie, loosening it to pull it over his head.

Sensing where her intentions were going, he stopped her from shrugging off her scrub top. “Hang on,” he breathed heavily against her lips. “I have cameras set up around the penthouse to capture the proposal on video. Let me turn those off before we do anything.” Az rose on his knees, lifting them up slightly to reach into his pocket for his phone.

But Elain’s hand on his wrist had him freezing, and looking back into her eyes. “Leave them on.”

Surprise had his brows shooting into his hairline.

She slid her fingers back into the hair at his nape. “I want to record this entire moment. Just for us. Please, Az…”

Her nails scratched at his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. He would’ve asked her if she was sure about it, knowing a sex video was a very personal, dangerous thing to commit to. But looking at her face, he didn’t need to. Az could read the unending trust, the assuredness of her answer without her having to voice it. So, he set his phone on the ground, gripped the hem of her scrub top, and pulled it over her head.

Elain’s fingers went to his shirt, flying down the buttons to help him shrug out of the garment.

It took some maneuvering, but they managed to get each other undressed and her back onto his lap, him on his knees. His cock was hard and aching to be sunk into her warm, wet heat, but Az took his time to worship her body. Kissing her neck and delicate collarbones, sucking marks everywhere he went. His teeth grazed her pert nipple, suckling it until her back arched and she moaned, low and throatily.

Elain’s hair cascaded down her back, tangling in his fingers gripping her and keeping her pressed into him. She pushed her pelvis forward, rubbing him between her legs and producing just the right friction that had them both groaning. “Az,” she whined. “Please…” Her scrunched-up face of pleasure was the sexiest, most adorable thing.

“What do you need, Elain?” he breathed against the shell of her ear. “Tell me what you need.” Azriel licked that sensitive spot behind her ear making her shudder in his arms.

She clutched him, fingers gripping him hard enough that his tanned skin would be peppered with little bruises.

Fuck he loved wearing her marks on his body.

Fingers gripping his hair, she let out this needy little sound that had his balls tightening. It was like his body was wired to her touch, her presence, the cute little noises she made when they were hot and heavy. Just a simple sigh from her lips could have him hardening in his pants in the most pathetic way. He was utterly a goner for her. Mind, body, and soul, he was hers and she was his.

“I need you,” she cried, tugging on his hair.

It wasn’t enough for him. “You have me, El. I’m right here, love,” he murmured into the skin of his neck.

Elain made a growling sound, her hands in his hair tightening and forcing him to look up at her. Her eyes were blown wide with lust, wholly dark with just a ring of brown around her pupils. “I need you inside me, Az. I need your cock. Fuck me, please!”

“Good fucking girl,” he groaned, slipping his fingers between them and circling her entrance. “Fuck, Elain. You’re so wet and needy for me, aren’t you?”

His touch had her crying out, hips undulating and grinding against his hand. “Now, Azriel,” she demanded.

Who was he to deny his queen—no. His fiancée… His large hands engulfed her rear, lifting her. “Put me where you want me, love.”

Elain reached between them, grabbing his cock in her small hand and pumping him twice, spreading the slick that had rubbed on it from between her legs. She lined him up and slowly sank, taking him inch by glorious inch, filling her, stretching her fluttering passage until he was completely submerged in her wet pussy.

He held her still, giving her those few moments to adjust to his size, and if he were being honest, the time he needed to collect himself so he didn’t bust a nut upon their initial joining. He always had to take a few moments to catch his breath when he first entered her. She just fit him so damn well, like she was fucking made for him. Azriel had been with a lot of women but never had anyone felt as heavenly as Elain. “Fuck me, El. You’re so goddamn tight.”

Her breaths grazed his neck as she buried her face into the junction of his shoulder. “I can see you inside me,” she whispered like she was trying so hard not to come right there too.

You and me both, baby, he almost said. Instead, he looked down between them, and sure as fuck, there was a bulge in her lower abdomen, his dick imprinting itself in her body. “Jesus fuck,” he groaned. He released one hand from her ass and placed his palm over the bulge, adding pressure to it.

Elain moaned, her arms tightening around his neck as she held him closer to her.

“Ride me, El.”

On shaky legs, she rose until only his tip remained inside of her and slowly sank back down. The sensation of the added pressure was indescribable. His name tumbled from her lips in the most delectable sound.

He guided her into slow thrusts down onto him, wanting to make this more about intimacy than just fucking. Elain’s high sex drive often had them fucking quick and hard. The rare times when he’d slow them down because he wanted to make love to her too were some of his favorites. The tenderness of their fingers linked while he rolled his hips into hers, their constant eye contact. Azriel wanted this one to be like that. So, when she started to pick up her pace, he slowed her back down with his palm cradling her behind. “It’s not a race, baby. Take your time.”

Elain’s gorgeous eyes blinked open, understanding why he wanted to take it slowly. She cupped his face between her palms, her engagement ring sparkling in the candlelight, and kissed him. It was heated, but it wasn’t the clash of teeth and tongues like they normally did when they had sex. Pacing herself, she rode him leisurely, savoring every inch of him, every pass of his cock over the spot deep inside her.

He twisted his hand still pressed to her abdomen so he could circle her clit with his thumb.

Her body shuddered and she broke off their kiss to whimper. With her forehead pressed to his, he could watch every twitch of her face. “Azriel,” she drawled out the syllables of his name. “I’m so—so close. Don’t stop.”

Drawing her lips in for another kiss, he breathed into her mouth. “Never.”

It only took a few more strokes down his cock until she crested into her orgasm, her sweet pussy fluttering around his member and drawing him to his pleasure.

Elain’s arm reached down the middle of his back, nails digging into his tattooed skin and clawing him as her release washed over her. She clung to him like he would be ripped from her. But like hell was anything ever coming between them again.

He would burn the entire world to the ground for her.

Azriel used his strength to slide her up and down his cock, prolonging their combined pleasure and pushing his seed deep inside of her. She’d be leaking it for hours after much to his masculine pride and male satisfaction.

Her body went limp against his chest as she panted heavily, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. “My fiancé,” she grinned into his neck.

He chuckled lightly. “Fiancée does have a nice ring to it, but I can’t fucking wait to call you my wife.”

The soft, feminine laugh she let out brightened up the darkest corners of his heart, his soul until he was flooded with light. “My future husband,” she corrected. Her fingers danced along his jaw. “I love you, Azriel. Wherever life takes us, I’m blessed to have you by my side through it all. Now and forever.”

Capturing his mouth in a searing kiss, he gently laid her down on the floor. “My heart, my body, my soul is yours, Elain. Only and always yours.”

Covering her with his massive frame, Azriel made love to his future wife over and over again until she was utterly spent and blissfully happy.

~~~~~

It had been a month and a half since their engagement, and the entire time had been a blur for Elain. Aside from getting engaged, which she was ecstatic about, Nesta and Cassian welcomed their baby girl to the world.

They had their baby shower just three weeks before her arrival, inviting many of Nesta’s friends and coworkers and a few of Cassian’s. Azriel had been exceptionally affectionate during the whole ordeal, even going as far as to lift her off the couch and sit down, placing her on his lap.

It was a little bizarre to her, Azriel typically keeping most of his endearing affections to the privacy of their home. This overt display of it had her finally asking him what he was doing.

“Nesta’s paralegal hit on me at the grocery store a few months ago,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her.

Elain glanced towards the young girl, whom she had noticed was giving her fiancé heated looks throughout the shower. “Are you scared of her?” she teased.

Az nipped at her jaw with his teeth. “No, brat. I just want to make sure she knows I am happily taken.”

She slid her left hand to his cheek, making sure her diamond ring was on display. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll keep you safe.” And then she kissed him in a way that was highly inappropriate for a baby shower, but it did the trick. The girl stopped making eyes at her man for the remainder of the party.

And then three weeks later, her niece was born.

Sutton Mazaei was the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen. With Cassian’s dark hair and skin tone and Nesta’s blue-grey eyes, she was guaranteed to be a showstopper when she was older, much to Cassian’s dismay.

“She’s never dating,” he had said to her and Azriel when they visited them at the hospital.

Elain took careful notice of how her fiancé acted when she placed her in his arms. Was it cliché to say her uterus pulsed at the sight of him holding a baby? He looked honestly terrified about having something so small and precious in his hands. She wasn’t sure if she should ask him about it or not, so she didn’t, taking the bundle back when he offered.

Now she was at the grocery store, having offered to go get the new parents some supplies while they enjoyed their new little one. It was her day off, but she pre-coordinated with the Moonbeam twins to come with her, knowing that Azriel was still nervous about the silence from Elias.

They were in the produce section when she heard her name being called.

“Elain! Elain Archeron!”

Turning around, she saw Clare Beddor, her old coworker from the bank, waving at her.

“Clare!” she grinned, excusing herself from the twins and making her way over to her old friend. Well, a friend was a strong word for their relationship. Acquaintance felt like a better description of what they were.

The brunette pulled her into a hug. “It’s been well over a year since I last saw you,” she gushed. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Elain said honestly. “I’ve been busy with work. And my sister just had a baby. I’m shopping for her and her hus—”

“Oh, my god,” she interrupted, snatching Elain’s left hand. “Look at the size of that ring! You’re engaged?” Clare shouted, causing a few heads to turn in her direction. “Whom are you engaged to that can afford a rock like this?” She eyeballed the two men with her. “Is it one of them? Please tell me it’s not the golden blond because I’d climb him like a cat in a tree.”

Elain looked over her shoulder at the two males who were obviously pretending they weren’t listening to the entire conversation; saw the slight hue on Fenrys’s cheeks. She softly laughed. “No, they’re… well, they’re a part of my security team.”

Clare’s eyes went wide. “You have a security team? Mother, Elain. Whom are you marrying?”

“Um,” she hesitated. “His name is Azriel.”

Recognition flared in those green eyes. “Wait… You’re telling me you bagged Azriel Knight? The Azriel Knight? Multi-millionaire Azriel Knight? That Azriel Knight?”

“You know it’s weird that you keep saying his full name.”

One of the reasons that Elain tolerated Clare, but didn’t consider her a friend was one—she was a notorious gossip, and two—she was judgmental as hell. She saw the shift in the other woman’s features that had her taking a small step back. Without even seeing them, she knew Fenrys and Connall took note of that step and slowly shifted to face them.

“How the hell did you bag him?”

It was a derogative question, but Elain let it slide. “We dated in high school and reconnected about a year ago.” She didn’t need to tell her what exactly brought them crashing back together.

Clare crossed her arms, judgment radiating off her entire form. “Well, you’ll have to introduce me to his brothers. He has some, right?”

Oh boy. Typical Clare and her hunt for men. “He does. Adoptive ones, however, they’re married to my sisters.”

The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Like always, you Archerons take every good bachelor in this god’s forsaken city. Nesta had Cassian wrapped around her finger in high school. And now you’re engaged to the most eligible bachelor in Velaris. Did you leave anything for the rest of us mere mortals?”

The utter disdain in her voice had Elain recoiling. It was enough to have the Moonbeam twins come up to her and try and herd her away. But like hell was she going to let her have the last word. “Last time I checked, Clare, we’re not responsible for your love life. If you want to find a decent man, perhaps you should present yourself as a less judgmental person.” Shock rippled across her face at Elain’s comments, but she didn’t let that deter her. “Take care.”

Fenrys placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her away from the fuming woman back over to their cart. “She seems pleasant,” he muttered once they were out of earshot.

Elain snorted. “Understatement of the century.”

“How do you know her?” Connall asked from a step behind them, guarding her back.

“We worked at the bank together but she went to school with my sisters and me. Graduated a year ahead of Nesta and Cash.”

“She seemed plenty interested in you, brother,” the dark-haired twin sniped, clapping Fen on the shoulder.

Elain whipped her head to look up at the other twin. “Please, no. Clare’s not good company to keep.” She stopped in the drink aisle, grabbing a few energy drinks for Cassian. The dark circles under his eyes told her he could use a caffeine boost as he did everything he could to support his wife.

“Jealous, Archeron?” Fen teased grinning down at her.

She shook her head, huffing a laugh. “No, but I do know somebody for you if you’re interested.” Since Azriel’s proposal, it seemed Fenrys had finally gotten a grip on his feelings for her, falling back into the more friendly nature of their relationship rather than the strict, professional setting they had regressed to for months.

Those bright eyes lit up in surprise. “You do?”

Elain nodded, pushing the cart forward and making it seem like she was a bit aloof to his eagerness. “Mhmm. She’s a recently graduated nurse. Very beautiful. Dark brown hair and these emerald green eyes. Kind, courageous, and incredibly smart. I think she would suit you.”

He stopped her with a hand on his shoulder. “What is her name?”

A smile tugged on her lips. “Lysandra. Her name is Lysandra Ennar.” She watched him mouth the name like he was tasting it on his tongue. Reaching for the pack of Cassian’s preferred energy drinks, she said, “I’ll introduce you two next week.” Glancing back at the tall male, Elain swore she saw a blush dusting his cheeks when he ducked his head. Yeah, they would be really cute together.

~~~

“A little birdy told me that you set up my new nurse with Fenrys,” Viviane cooed as they made their way toward the front of the hospital.

Elain flashed her an innocent look. “Should I not have?”

The head nurse raised a brow. “I don’t see him going anywhere soon; I just want to make sure he’s not going to use her and break her heart. I don’t need her quitting right after we hired her. You know I need the hands, Ellie.”

She could understand her friend’s concern, but it wasn’t fair to judge Fenrys without knowing him. “Don’t fret about them. Fen seemed really interested in her and they hit it off when I introduced them a few days ago. I don’t think that’s what this is.”

Viv looked like she was going to say something else, but didn’t as they approached the hospital lobby and found said man waiting for her. “Afternoon ladies. Good day?”

Elain smiled at him. “It was, thanks, Fen.”

He ushered them both outside, listening to the two girls chatted about the most bizarre case of the day when they were ambushed by an influx of people.

“ELAIN ARCHERON! ELAIN CAN WE GET A QUOTE!”

Flashes blinded her. She startled, like a deer caught in the headlights, then cried out when they surged forward, curling into her friend. Their shouts echoed around them like church bells ringing.

Viviane grabbed her arm while Fenrys barked out, “Get back!”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING AZRIEL KNIGHT? WHEN IS THE WEDDING?”

She had no idea how the paparazzi found out about their engagement, but their swarming her had her panic rising. Elain gripped Viviane’s hand, especially when they started reaching for her, trying to pull her away from the nurse and Fenrys. Her anxiety made it hard to breathe, the air coming out in quick, short pants. And then she heard him.

“Move.” Azriel’s thundered, midnight voice and his presence had the crowd parting. He towered over most of the mob making it easy for her to spot him. The look of utter wrath on his face had some people stepping back; others fled outright. He made a beeline straight for her, pulling her from Viviane and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Head down,” he told her.

Elain had no hesitation about hiding in his embrace, fist clutching his shirt.

“MR. KNIGHT! TELL US ABOUT THE WEDDING!” the paparazzi called out, chasing after them like a hive of pissed-off bees.  

Azriel ignored them, tugging her to his other car where Cerridwen already had the back door open for her. “Get in,” he said, voice softening as he spoke to her.

She climbed in, letting him shut the door behind her once securely inside, and quickly made his way to the other side. As soon as he was inside, Cerridwen took off, the other car with the Moonbeam twins following close behind. Elain let herself be pulled across the seat into Az’s lap, him not giving a shit about the seatbelt or the law.

He cupped her face in his scarred palms and let his thumb swoop over the apples of her cheeks. “Are you all right?”

Physically? Yes, she was fine. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing was still short, but overall, she was fine. Mentally, however, was another story. Elain nodded. “I’m okay.”

It was obvious he didn’t believe her, but let her white lie slide.

“What are you doing here?” she asked instead.

He grabbed something from the door and handed it to her. “Nuala saw this at the store this afternoon. I had a feeling you were going to be ambushed.”

It was the same magazine that blasted them on the cover after the fundraiser, and there they were again. Az’s portrait was front and center, taking up most of the front page. A small image of them walking into and out of the fundraiser was placed over it like a collage. She read through the headline.

Velaris’s Most Eligible Bachelor: Off the Market? Azriel Knight of Knight Securities engaged to Dr. Elain Archeron of Velaris Medical Center.

Elain flipped open the magazine to the article.

Sorry, ladies. He’s taken. Azriel Knight of Knight Securities is rumored to be engaged with Dr. Elain Archeron, a surgeon at Velaris Medical Center. Elain is the sister of the world-renowned artist, Feyre Archeron (married Rhysand Archeron [Knight]), and prominent defense attorney, Nesta (Archeron) Mazaei (married Cassian Mazaei).

No confirmation has been received by Knight’s team.

So, who is Elain Archeron? Born and raised in Velaris, she attended Velaris High and went to…

She closed the article, her skin going cold at how they blasted their lives in some sleazy tabloid.

Azriel rested his palm on her thigh, thumb stroking. “I will find out who leaked our engagement, Elain.”

But Elain didn’t need him to find out. Because she already knew who leaked it. “I think it was me,” she whispered, looking down at her fingers tangled in her lap. They hadn’t planned on announcing to the press yet, knowing they would eventually have to with Az’s status. It wasn’t something they could just sweep under the rug and wanted to be in control of the situation.

Gentle fingers gripped her chin and turned her face up to look at him. “Talk to me, love.”

Elain breathed heavily, shoulders drooping. “A few days ago, you remember I ran into my old coworker at the grocery store?” He nodded. “Well, she saw the ring on my hand and started asking all these questions, wanting to know whom I was engaged to. I just said your first name, but she seemed to put it together based on the size of the ring and your name. She’s a fairly aggressive person when she wants something and blames others for her failures.” Guilt washed over her. “I snapped. She must’ve gone to the press with the information for a quick buck. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, El. She took our private information and sold it. This is, unfortunately, a common issue when living in the spotlight. So we didn’t get to announce it the way we wanted to. Oh well. I’ll have my team work up something for us and we can go over it together.”

She threw her arms around his neck as they pulled into the garage under their building. “I’m fine with that. Thank you, Azriel. I didn’t mean to create more work for your team.”

He waved her off. “Don’t even worry about it. This is literally what I pay them for.” He kissed the side of her head shuffling her off his lap so he could open the door and help her out.

Fenrys and Connall parked next to them, climbing out of the car.

“What the hell is going on?” the former demanded.

Elain knew he probably felt blind-sighted by the commotion outside the hospital, and maybe a little responsible that he couldn’t control the situation.

“Our engagement was leaked. The press is hounding us for a statement.”

“Mr. Knight, we apologize for not being more prepared. I didn’t even see them outside when I went to get the car for Elain.”

Azriel waved a hand. “They know I’m difficult to capture—I’m notorious for getting around them. So, I’m not surprised they hid to get something from her. They probably assumed I would’ve coached her into being like me.”

“We won’t be caught unawares again,” Connall told him with determination.

Elain went wide-eyed. “Again? You think this is going to become a regular occurrence?”

Her fiancé gripped her hip in comfort. “Unfortunately, yes. I don’t see them backing down anytime soon. So, we’ll need a different plan of attack to get you in and out of the hospital.”

“There’s a back door entrance,” she announced. “It’s typically used by vendors for shipments, but I can get in with my keycard.”

Fenrys grinned. “We like backdoor entrances a lot.”

Az nodded in agreement. “I think that’s a good idea, at least for now. Hopefully, they’ll get tired of trying to capture you in about a week or so.”

Elain laid her head on his bicep, wishing for that too.

~~~

Two months.

It had been two months since the incident with the paparazzi and Elain was still using the back door to get into and out of the hospital unseen. They had even taken it upon themselves to flood the lobby a few times trying to snap her photo, catching her once or twice and inserting her on the cover of that damn magazine. They dug into her past, blasting her sexual assault case into the public and how Graysen essentially walked from it, pulling him into the limelight.

His father filed a defamation suit against her for it, which Azriel’s lawyers aggressively shot down. And though Nesta was still on maternity leave, even she was on the phone harassing the press about privacy and threatening to turn the Nolan name to mud if they so much as even breathed Elain’s name again.

She could barely sleep; was constantly woken up with nightmares of absolutely everything. It was thoroughly exhausting. And poor Azriel was desperately trying to keep her calm, always sitting up with her at night when those dreams plagued her until he could coax her back to sleep.

Everything about the situation was absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s only going to get worse,” she said, leaning against Azriel’s desk. He was currently going back and forth with his PR team about how they should navigate the whole ordeal since none of them had expected this to last for as long as it had. “The physical wedding might put them into an actual feral frenzy.”

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning in frustration, and shoved his chair back from his desk. He turned to look at her and something about the way he did so made her gut churn with anxiety. “You still want to get married, right?” The hesitation, the nervousness in his voice told her just how scared he was that all of this might have changed her mind about him.

Elain moved, perching herself on his lap. “Yes, Azriel. Of course, I still want to get married. Nothing—and I mean nothing—would ever stop me from wanting to marry you.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his chest. “I’m going to have to add security for the wedding. There’s just no way our current team can hold back this mob.”

She stroked a finger down his chest. “What if they didn’t know when or where we were getting married?”

Those beautiful hazel eyes glanced down at her, indicating that she should elaborate.

“What if we eloped?” she asked, voice hushed.

“Don’t,” he said adamantly. “Don’t do that. Don’t let them take away our wedding.” His hands twisted her body on him, forcing her leg over his hips to straddle his lap.

Elain took his face between her palms, her diamond ring glinting in the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Azriel…We don’t need a huge wedding. The only thing I need is you standing by my side as we say ‘I do.’”

“You deserve to have the wedding of your dreams, Elain. I want to give that to you.”

She swiped her thumb across his cheek. “You have given me everything, Az. Everything and more. I never wanted a giant wedding. That was never my dream. I’m too simplistic to have desired something like that—you know that.” She paused, debating if she should say the rest. “Graysen wanted a big wedding. He wanted the three hundred guests and the attention from it. So, he was planning the monstrosity of a party, and frankly, I dreaded the whole idea of it. The only thing I need, the only thing I want is just to be married to you.” She leaned forward to kiss him softly. “So, whether we get married at the courthouse or here on the balcony, it doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be your wife.”

Azriel surged forward, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. “How did I end up with you as my fiancée?” he asked, groaning against her lips.

Elain giggled. “Sheer persistence and ungodly attractiveness.”

He barked out a laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. His amber eyes sparkled with mirth. “You’re sure about this, El?” he asked her, always checking to make sure she was certain of her decisions.

“I’m sure.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her voice.

A smile cracked across his face. “We’re not getting married at the courthouse. That I refuse. You deserve much better than the goddamn courthouse. And we’re not getting married at our place.”

She rolled her eyes at his insistence—honestly, she didn’t care where they got married, only that they did. But as she looked at his face, an idea struck her. “What about on the beach? In the Summer District? We could take the jet; invite our siblings, though I’m not sure if Nesta and Cassian will come because Sutton is so little.”

He tugged her closer into his chest, scarred fingers finding their way under her shirt to stroke her bare skin. “I think a beach wedding is exactly what we need.”

“During the sunset, at dusk,” she told him.

A chuckle passed his lips. “Of course. Whatever your heart desires, it shall be.” He leaned forward to kiss her neck, teeth scraping the soft skin. “Now for a date—when do you wish to be married, my love?”

It was hard to concentrate when he ravished her with his mouth, but she forced her mind to focus. “Next month?”

That had him pulling back to look at her face, eyes going wide. “Next month? Are you sure?”

The hopefulness in his tone nearly broke her heart. “Yes, Azriel. I want to be your wife and you my husband already. The sooner the better.”

“I fucking love you, Elain Archeron.” His mouth crashed to hers in a bruising kiss. It was hot, all teeth and tongue. “I can’t wait to take your last name.”

“You’re what?” she spluttered between his kisses.

“Azriel Archeron has a lovely ring to it, don’t you think,” he admitted like he had thought about this a lot.

She blinked. Was he serious? “Azriel, I can’t let you just take my name.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because you have an entire empire behind your last name. How would it look if Azriel Archeron was the head of Knight Securities?”

The man scoffed. “You think I care about that? It’s still my company. Besides, there’s no way I’m letting you change your name when you have a medical degree associated with it. You earned that, Elain. It’s Doctor Archeron, not Doctor Knight.”

Shit… He had thought about it. A lot, clearly. Secretly, Elain adored Azriel Archeron—AA. But she didn’t want to erase his name completely. Her fingers toyed with the hair at his nape. “What about a compromise?”

His brow raised. “I’m listening.”

“We hyphenate. Knight-Archeron.”

Az pursed his lips. “No.” Surprise lit her features, then melted when he continued. “Archeron-Knight. Your name comes first.”

Her eyes soften as she looked at this gorgeous, kind, completely beautiful man. “Azriel and Elain Archeron-Knight. It sounds perfect.”

He closed the distance between them, sharing a special, intimate moment between them. “How about I show the future Mrs. Archeron-Knight just exactly what that name does to me?”

With barely a thought, Azriel had her out of her shirt, bare from the waist up. His mouth went right for her breast, sucking her nipple deep until her back arched, a sultry moan passing between her parted lips.

But Elain had other ideas, halting the progression of his lips. When he looked at her curiously, she flashed a little smirk. “I have other ideas.” Rolling her hips down onto his, she slipped off his lap, stripped out of her bottoms and underwear, and knelt on the floor between his legs. “You’re going to let the future Mrs. Archeron-Knight show you exactly how much you mean to her.” Raising herself on her knees, Elain dropped a kiss on his hardening cock, still confined by pants.

Azriel hissed, threading a scarred hand in her thick locks. “Baby, you’re too fucking good to me.”

Elain had never really enjoyed giving blowjobs. Graysen liked receiving them but he never reciprocated after she finished him. But after that night when she had given one to Azriel, she found that she enjoyed it. She liked giving him pleasure, hearing just how much she affected him and the praise that tumbled from his lips made her eager to get her mouth on his cock. It also didn’t hurt that he tasted fucking good—as weird as it sounded.

He didn’t often let her go down on him, always wanting to save himself to sink his hard member into her wet heat. But when he did give in to her, she fucking devoured him.

Reaching up, she popped the button on his jeans and tugged down his fly. She slid her hand in, stroking his cock twice before tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees. Looking at Azriel’s erect cock was always a sight to behold. His sheer size, the vein feeding it always made her mouth go dry.

“You looking at my cock like it’s a fucking meal is about to make me combust, El,” he groaned, fisting the hold on her hair.

Elain gripped him tightly, earning a heavenly sigh from his parted lips. Licking him like her personal lollipop, she wasted no time in engulfing him with her lips.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, using her hair as leverage to control the speed and depth of her bobbing.

She worked him deep into her throat, breathing steadily through her nose as he pushed her farther and farther down. Elain relaxed the muscles of her neck until he slipped past her mouth and she gagged, spit drooling from her lips and onto her hand. Her fingers twisted, sliding over the rest of his hard member that she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

Elain sucked, cheeks hollowing as she pulled that pleasurable sensation from deep in his gut. He was getting close, she could tell by the sounds that came from him, how his fist seemed to tighten further in her hair, how his cock twitched between her lips.

Just when she was about to slide him down her throat, they heard it. The distinct sound of the elevator doors opening.

She tugged him out of her mouth with an audible pop, eyes widening in alarm when Rhys’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Azriel?” he called out.

Elain snatched her clothes from the ground and scrambled under his desk, Az following close behind her and sliding his chair far underneath to avoid him seeing his naked thighs and his hard-on.  

“Office,” he grunted out, annoyance ringing clear in his voice.

Light footfalls came from the hallway and then she heard her brother enter the room. Elain was grateful that Azriel’s large desk went down to the floor, shielding her in shadow.

“What do you want?” her fiancé demanded.

“Well, hello to you too, brother,” Rhys purred. “I came to pick up the camera set.”

She had forgotten that with all shit going on, the constant digging into their personal lives, they had suggested their siblings put up some extra protection around their homes. Just to be safe. Azriel supplied them with a few extra camera equipment pieces that they could place around the house and monitor from their phones. Cassian had picked his and Nesta’s set up the day before, bringing little Sutton with him while Nesta took a break to shower and get some sleep.

“It’s on the counter.”

Elain had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling at Az’s brusque tone. Reaching forward, she gripped his cock again, the surprise had her fiancé’s knee slamming into the desk.

“Fuck!” he bellowed sliding his large hand on top of his leg to rub at the hurt.

There was a pause before Rhys asked, “Are you all right, man?”

She kissed his injury, then began to tease him, licking a stripe from base to tip on his dick.

Azriel cleared his throat. “I’m fine.” His tone of voice told her he was indeed, not fine. Not fine at all.

Elain wrapped her lips around his head, sucking quietly. Truthfully, she wanted to see how long he lasted before snarling at his brother to get out.

“Okay, well since you’re such pleasant company today,” Rhys said sarcastically, “Where’s Elain?”

Her name on her brother’s lips had her freezing, wondering why he was asking about her.

“She had to run to the grocery store,” he lied. “Why?”

Elain heard Rhys shuffling from foot to foot.

“I have this bite on my arm that’s getting large. I wanted her to look at it.”

“She’s a surgeon, Rhys,” he snapped. “Not your primary care physician. Go see your doctor for that shit.”

Elain struggled to stifle her laugh, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shaking with the effort. Poor fucking Rhys. He was receiving the nasty end of Az’s temper without knowing why.

“You know, perhaps you should have her—” he stopped.

“Have her what?” Az gritted out between clenched teeth.

She slid him back into her mouth, hoping to relax him a bit, feeling the tension in his thighs. Slurping him down without making a sound took more effort than she anticipated, but she made it work.

“I was going to say, ‘Have her take care of you when she gets home,’ but I’m getting the distinct feeling she’s doing that right now.”

Elain choked, Azriel coughing to cover up the sound.

“Mhmm,” Rhys murmured, a twinkle in his voice that told her he knew exactly what was going on. “So, I’m just going to go. See you later.” His footsteps echoed out of the room and then he called out, “Bye, Elain!”

She waited until the elevator doors pinged before she started laughing.

“Do you think that was funny, you naughty girl,” Azriel said, sliding his chair out and hauling her from under his desk.

She grinned. “It was a little funny.”

“You sucking my cock while I tried to have a conversation with my brother is funny?” he asked incredulously.

Elain raised a brow. “It didn’t sound like you were trying to have any kind of conversation with him, baby. You were most definitely trying to get him out.”

“Because you were sucking my cock under my desk without a care in the world that we had company. And for that, you should get punished. Over my knee. Now.”

His change in posture, the way his voice took on that dominance had heat rushing to her core. She was wet already, but now she felt herself pulse around nothing, dripping with need. Elain rose on shaky legs. “What are you going to do? Spank me?”

Challenge flared in him. “You bet your sweet ass, I am. Bend. Over.” It wasn’t a request.

Was she really going to allow him to do this? Elain knew if she told him no, he’d stop immediately, but the curious creature inside of her, the one that he had coaxed out of her, was peeking an eye open at the idea. “Will it hurt?” she hesitated, fingers gripping each other.

His face softened, sensing her internal war. “There is a fine line between pleasure and pain. Will it sting? Yes. It will. But it is also pleasurable too. I promise not to take it too hard with you this first time. And if you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop at any time.” He held out a hand to her, an offering to try something new.

Elain hesitated just a moment longer before she took his hand and let herself be tugged over his lap.

Deft fingers swept between her legs, feeling how wet she was. “So needy for me already, my love. Let’s see how drenched we can get you before I fuck you against my desk.” He kneaded her backside, and Elain felt the blood rush to her cheeks at how exposed she felt. “We’ll start you off with five smacks. Count for me.”

Without giving her any other warning, his palm came down on her cheek, skin clapping skin. Elain yelped at the surprise assault, her body convulsing from it. It didn’t hurt, per se, but it stung a bit. Remembering he gave her an order, she gritted out, “One.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, rubbing over where he smacked before bringing his hand down again.

“Two,” she breathed, feeling herself getting wetter already.

“Louder, Elain,” he demanded, running his hand over the curve of her cheek. “I can’t hear you.”

“Two,” she squeaked again, earning another caress over her backside in satisfaction. By the third smack, her body melted into him, becoming more aroused. It didn’t help that his length was currently digging into her side. “Three,” Elain moaned, head bowing.

Az chuckled. “I can see your slick running down your legs, baby. Are you getting turned on?” he asked just as he brought his palm down again.

“Four.” She was barely able to focus over how fucking stimulated she was. Her backside was sore, but fuck did it send delicious tingles up her body.

His hand came down a final time.

“Five,” Elain cried out, body positively aching for release.

Two thick fingers plunged inside her center, meeting no resistance from how turned on she had become. “Good fucking girl, Elain. You took that so well and look at how soaked you are.” His voice was practically a growl as he pumped in and out of her, his thumb pressing down on her clit.

“Az,” she groaned, fingers clutching his body. “Feels good.” The words tumbled from her lips in a slur.

He pumped and stretched her, stroking that spot that had her shaking. “Come, my love. I need you to let go.”

She was barely hanging on as it was, erupting into her orgasm with a scream. Elain’s body clenched around his fingers still fucking her as she fell, and fell, and fell into her release. A surge of liquid ran down the backside of her thighs.

Azriel’s head dipped and then his tongue was licking her there, intensifying her pleasure and building her up at the same time. “My sexy girl looks so good when she comes,” he groaned into fluttering, pink sex. Pulling his fingers out of her, he readjusted her until she was straddling him and sank her onto his cock.

Elain’s arms automatically went around his neck, holding him close as she moaned from deep in her chest. She had slid onto him with ease, her body molding itself to accommodate his size and girth. Fuck he felt so good stretching her, filling her. She said as much out loud.

His hands on her hips raised her up and down his length, helping her fuck him. It was exquisite to feel him pulse inside of her. Every stroke had her seeing stars in her blissed-out state.

Azriel kicked off his pants and boxers, shuffling Elain in his lap before he rose from his chair and pinned her against the window, the cool glass a stark contrast to her heated skin.

Elain’s legs went around his waist, using it as leverage to match him thrust for thrust. “Az, please!” she cried out, tipping her head back against the glass.

He sank his teeth into the junction of her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise.

The slight pain mixed with the pleasure of his hips snapping into hers had her cresting into oblivion again. Elain’s body pulsed, milking him and sending him hurdling into his release, spilling deep inside of her as he pushed into the hilt and stayed there, groaning into her skin.

They were sweaty and breathing heavily, each coming down from their high. Her delicate fingers swept through his damp hair, brushing the locks back from his face and forcing him to meet her eyes. She had never seen those amber irises shining so bright as they were then. “I can’t wait to call you my husband,” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him softly.

A sound pitched from his throat as he carried her over to his desk and began to ravish her again.

~~~~~

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[simplesoup]

Caught in his web 🕸️

Pro hero Sero x GN!Reader (Spider-Man but with tape? 🤷) |it’s a bit more spicy 🌶️ |

You were a normal person working a 9 to 5 at a restaurant the pay wasn’t great, hell it wasn’t even good but it was the only thing keeping you a float in you tiny apartment

Though you complained and moped you were at least thankful sure it was rough and you were just barely getting by but it was something!

you were trying! And you had the bare necessities running water, food, a roof over your head and a bed what more could you need?

DICK?

you had just graduated and were looking for another job yes sleep was important but… so was money… and you had graduated college so you’d might as well look for somewhere you could use that degree… and if the world was on your side it would pay more and you could eventually quit serving drinks….

You huffed as you looked out at the street outside the dinner it was pouring rain… of course it was… you pulled your hood over you head looking at your coworkers and waving before stepping out into the freezing rain

if only you had un umbrella but you didn’t need one! You weren’t a wimp you could handle a little rain it wouldn’t kill you…

walking down through the more sketchy part of town was the only part that scared you about getting home but long as you kept your head down you’d be fine

or so you thought….

a man approached you you didn’t know him or recognize him so you kept walking only to realize he was following you panic immediately washed over you.

what that hell were you suppose to do!? You couldn’t just lead him back to your place you were living on your own the door with a simple lock definitely wouldn’t hold up against this guy… you took different paths trying to verify he was in fact following you and it wasn’t in your damn head.

You saw an opportunity and took it climbing up the side of a building using a fire escape as your way out… why? I don’t know!? You were desperate!

you thought you were smart until you realized you had just cornered yourself new panic set in as he started following after you climbing the ladder “LEAVE ME ALONE!” You yelled thinking that would scare him off of course… it didn’t. You backed up to the edge of the building as he walked closer trying to touch you

“Oo dose kitty have claws~? Let’s see”

you let out a ear bleeding scream as you fell plunging from the side of the building this was it… you were dead…

“Hey you wanna stop screaming and open your eyes?” You felt warm suddenly…. You were probably just bleeding out…. Laying there in a puddle of your own blood…. What a sad way to go….

Wait!?

was that a voice?….

your eyes snapped open to see the cutest guy you had ever seen… black hair tied back black obsidian eyes and a big smile. Were you in heaven?

“Hey? Snap out of it your alright…”

he swung around holding you tight to his chest taking you to a safer area

“Has the shock worn off yet?”

“W-what!?- yes!- yes it has sorry!-… I-i um yeah sorry…..” you shook your head trying to relax… you were alive and safe in his arms

“Sorry I didn’t step in sooner you were moving around so much and I didn’t wanna give myself away”

you weren’t really listening after a near death experience you were looking at life in a whole different way. If you were gonna make a huge change… it would start with kissing this random man that saved your life.. you didn’t know his name… and you haven’t even thanked him yet…. But a kiss would suffice? Right?

kissing in the rain couldn’t get much better then this…

“Damn… what happened to taken someone on a date first?” He grinned before pulling you into another kiss

“I’m uh Sero! How about I get you somewhere a bit more safe? You can thank me more later yeah?” He teased as he started making his way back to his own place “hold on tight it’s gonna get a bit rough”

you felt like you were in a movie your prince was taking you away without even knowing your damn name once at his place you were shocked it was nice!

But you didn’t really get much time to look around as clothing was being stripped and kisses that lead down to the bedroom were a hole new and welcomed distraction

“Your in my web now~ let’s make to most of it~”

Spiders clung onto their prey and babies you weren’t going anywhere for a long while so guess you’re gonna have to properly introduce yourself later..

pet names will suffice for now~

and get comfortable because your about to get tied up in every angle possible~

(Mmk yay or nay? Please give me characters you wanna see! Give me ideas I can write dirtier but I need inspiration! )

[local-diavolo-anon]

A small idea i had: prehistoric mermen Sun and Moon

Have some sketches

Au infos under the cut hehe

Sun x Moon x Reader where Reader is a time travelling biologist who ends up stuck in early cretaceus and all they have is their broken time capsule, some tools and their modern-era devices

They can likely communicate with modern time scientists but maybe even days go by, and those scientists cannot send somebody to rescue them bedause there is some time-traveling fuckery that allows only 1 person for geologic era or something like that

And while they wait for instructions, they need to hunt for available sources of food and verify if said source will kill them instantly or not when consumed

During that, they find themselves diving into the prehistoric ocean, coming face to face with Sun, who is a plesiosaurus mermen (you choose which type tbh, there are a lot)

Afrer the initial shock of seeing a humanoid-faced creature and the secondary shock of seeing said creature emerging from behind rocks with an almost endlessly long torso/neck, reader and Sun kind of hit off and become gradually more friendly and sociable toward one another

Reader knows how to make friends with creatures and Sun is both very smart and very eager of making friends, so while he cannot seemingly comprehend your language he is trying his best

At some point he seems eager to bring reader somewhere, so you two dive together underwater

He progressively goes deeper and deeper, and you follow until you both arrive to the bottom of the sea in that part of the coast

Sun is excited and is acting like something has to happen and reader is not understanding, maybe you were supposed to see something or something that is happening should have been exciting

So you look around yourself confused before the seafloor under your feet moves.

Surprise you were standing on Moon's back, who just woke up and is both confused at what the absolute fuck he is looking at (you) and slightly irritated

Fear.png

Follows a moment of sea lizard to sea lizard communication between sun and moon before anybody makes a move

Ultimately Moon finds you weird but amusing, you look like them but also not and you can move and breath on land so that's interesting, so he keeps you around

They follow you during your diving and protect you from other predatoes that might have been around at the time, like other species of plesiosauruses (since again, there are quite a lot)

They might also help you a bit with the food problem by occasionally providing fish and other sea creatures for you to eat like ammonites; they are both big and eat a lot so sharing a microscopic portion of food won't change anything for them

Back at home everybody is enthusiastic of your discoveries and you're tasked to remain there as long as you can and study those newly discovered creatures

[vodika-vibes]

Little Red

Summary: You're a detective for Mandalore Police, and your Chief decides to assign you the case file for the long-lost son of Jango Fett, Hound.

Pairing: Devil!Hound x Detective!Reader

Word Count: 5769

Warnings: None

A/N: When I say "Devil" I'm talking about the Pathfinder/DND version of Devil. Not the Christian Version. Also, someday I'll be able to write a story without Lore but it's not today.

Tagging: @the-bad-batch-baroness who suggested Hound and Grizzer

Divider by saradika

You jump when a file is dropped heavily on your desk, sending pages from all of your other active investigations fluttering to the floor. You scramble to gather and sort the fallen pages, and then glare up at your boss. 

“Was that necessary?” You ask.

“Sorry, Little Red.” He jokes, and you roll your eyes at the childish nickname. When you came for your initial interview you had been wearing a red winter jacket and a matching winter hat, and the nickname stuck. “I have a case for you,” He says with a blinding grin.

“You mean on top of the five other cases I’m actively investigating?” You ask dryly, as you sort the files back into their proper places.

“Yeah, but this-” He taps the thick file with one finger, “This is a rite of passage, Little Red. It’s been sitting on my desk for years, and I want you to take a crack at it.”

You quirk a single brow and tilt your head to read the name on the file, and then your other eyebrow shoots up to join the first, “The missing person file on Hound Fett?” You ask.

“Aye.” Your boss drops into the worn seat next to your desk, an amused smile crossing his face as you pick up the file and start flipping through the pages, “Bare bones, Little Red. Before you were born, Hound Fett was kidnapped. For whatever reason, the kidnappers ignored all of his brothers and took him from the middle of the room.”

“Weird,” You reply as you turn your attention away from the file, “Does it have something to do with why King Jango has 2 million identical sons?”

Your boss points at you, “We don’t talk about that, Little Red. Ever.”

You roll your eyes, “Then maybe we should be asking questions about it.”

“No. I did the initial investigation, and that,” He says with a pointed look, “Has nothing to do with anything.”

You huff out a breath, “Alright, alright.” You go back to flipping through the file, “I mean, this looks pretty solid, boss. I can’t imagine I’ll find something that you all missed. Especially as it’s been almost 25 years since Hound vanished.”

“I want you to take a look at it anyway, Little Red.” He leans back and the chair creaks ominously, “You’re smart, much smarter than I am, and you see connections that others might not. Look at it with fresh eyes and see if you can turn up anything new.”

“And the other cases?” You ask.

“I’ll pass them on to some of the others, they won’t mind.” He stands and gathers the file case files off of your desk, “Go ahead and gather the evidence from the locker downstairs, and then you’re free to take off and work from this at home.”

You lean back in your uncomfortable chair, “You really want this to be the only thing I focus on?” You ask, surprised.

Your boss looks troubled, “Missing babies are a bad look, Little Red. I want…I need to know if I missed anything.”

You close the file sharply, and push your chair back, “Okay,” You say as you stand, “I’ll take care of it.” You’re rewarded for your words with a relieved smile.

You pull on your jacket and grab your purse, and you head to the stairs. The building you work in has four floors. The top two floors, the ones above ground, are where the detectives, like yourself, work. The bottom floors are where the labs and the evidence locker are located.

You wave your hand through a magical barrier, and then wait for the misty shroud to verify your identity, and then you continue down to the sublevels. 

The person who watches the evidence locker is a homunculus, and if you’re being honest, you like him more than any of the other detectives that you work with.

“Good afternoon, detective.” He says in his eerily echoing voice, “How may I help you today?”

“Good afternoon, Hyde.” You greet politely, earning you a wide grin from Hyde, “I’ve just been assigned the Hound Case, how many boxes of evidence are there?”

Hyde’s expressive eyes fog over as magic slides over them, and you settle your hip against the counter, waiting. His eyes clear a moment later, “Just the one, detective. Will you be signing it out?”

“If I can, yes.” You reply, as you tap your file against your hand.

“May I see the case file, please?”

You slide the file across the counter, and place your hand on the hand sized obsidian slate next to it, and then you wait. There’s a golden glow, and a simple golden thread twines around your hand and connects you to the case file, and then a third string, from the case file, to a box that you can’t see in the back.

“And done,” Hyde says as the glow fades, “The case file and appropriate evidence are bound to you, detective. Shall I have the evidence sent to your desk?”

“Can you have it sent to my home, actually?” You ask as you pull your hand off of the obsidian plate. 

Hyde’s eyes glow once more, and the case file vanishes off the counter, “It is done, detective. The evidence will remain in your custody for a time span of 2 weeks. After which it will be returned to the locker and you will have to sign it out again.”

“Alright, I understand. Thanks Hyde.”

“You are welcome, Detective. I wish you well in your investigation.”

You favor him with one more smile, and then your turn and leave the small room dedicated to Evidence storage. You only make it halfway up the stairs, heading towards the first floor so you can walk home, when you hear pounding steps behind you.

“D-Detective!” You stop on the landing and turn to stare at the older man who’s huffing and puffing his way up the steps, “Detective!” He finally reaches you and he hunches over, his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath, “I saw that you were assigned the Hound case,” He gasps out.

You raise a brow, “I wasn’t aware that that’s become common knowledge.”

“Oh, it hasn’t. I mean, not yet. But I pay attention to who checks out the evidence.”

You turn to face him fully, your arms folding across your chest, “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do. I-...” He blinks at you, “Oh, it’s not like that, Detective. I’ve been investigating the case in my off time, what little I have, and I just have some theories.”

“Theories you’ve kept to yourself?” You ask.

“Well, no. I’ve tried to share them with the other detectives who caught the Hound case, but none of them were willing to listen to me.” He pauses, “Please, Detective. I’ve been obsessing over this case for 25 years.”

“Okay, Doc. I’m all ears.”

He almost wilts in relief, “Perhaps we can go to the cafe? I’ve yet to eat lunch today.”

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Deal!”

Less than half an hour later, you’re comfortably sitting in a booth in a cafe, nursing a cup of caf, while the Doc slides sheets of paper across the table to you. “So, you might know that I was one of the investigators when Hound first went missing.”

“I did see your name in the file,” You agree with a nod, “Because of your magic, right?”

“Yes! Exactly so!” Doc wraps his hands around his tea, “I was young, and was still learning my trade, but even then I noticed something strange.” He flips through several photos, and then slides one across the table. “Here, what do you see?”

You take the picture and lift it to look at it properly, “It looks like a normal nursery.” You finally say, “I don’t see anything unusual, aside, maybe, from how clean it is.”

Doc grins and slides a different picture across to you, “Now what do you see?”

You pick up the second picture and compare it to the first, “They’re the same but…it looks like a burn? Next to the cradle. But the original picture it’s not…” You trail off, your gaze darting between the two pictures, “The carpet was changed between the two pictures.”

“Exactly! They’re nearly identical, but the difference is there.”

“How did you get these pictures?” You ask, “This one,” You held up the picture from the crime scene, “You obviously took, but the other one?”

“I have friends,” Doc explains away with a shrug, “But, Detective, I have a theory.” He leans in, “I think Hound went missing before he was reported. By at least a day.”

“And someone, whoever ran this facility, covered up his disappearance.” You finish slowly.

“Exactly.”

You’re quiet for a long time, and then you lean in, “Doc. I need to know how King Jango has so many kids.” You say, your voice quiet.

He hesitates, and then leans in as well, “It’s a bad story, Little Red.” He whispers.

“Tell me anyway.” It’s not a request.

“Okay.” Doc glances around, and then carefully sets up a ward designed to make your conversation hard to hear, “Okay, you remember what happened to King Jaster?”

“Of course. Betrayed by a friend and murdered by an enemy. They teach that in school.” You reply.

“Right. What they don’t teach is that the friend,” Doc makes a face at the word, “Kidnapped the then Prince Jango and sold him.”

“To who?”

“Kamino.”

You blink at him, Mandalore and Kamino have friendly relations, so far as you’re aware, “If the Kaminoans were holding King Jango as a slave, then why-?”

“The Kamino you know now is not the Kamino of 30 years ago.” Doc says quietly, “30 years ago, a scientist used King Jango as the template of a massive army. 4 years later, he started the mass production of the Clones, and was shut down by a joint operation between Mandalore and Kamino. A year after that, Hound went missing.”

“From Kamino.” You clarify.

“Yes. King Jango was in no position to raise a single child, let alone 2 million, so to keep Mandalore from wiping them from the map, they promised to raise the children until they were five years old.” Doc explains.

You lean back against the booth, your mind is racing. “So you think the Kaminoans are hiding something.”

“I think they were, but after Hound was reported missing, the entirety of Kamino was redone, and it’s not little more than a vassal of Mandalore.” Doc says with a sigh, “Unfortunately that’s a dead end.”

You frown, and look back at the picture with a burn mark, “Okay, so what can cause something like that?”

Doc frowns, “This is going to sound crazy.” He finally says.

“Just…lay it on me.” You sigh.

“I think Hound was kidnapped by a demon or a dragonkin of some kind.”

You blink at him, twice, “Okay. Okay. I don’t have enough evidence to support that one way or another.”

He frowns, “You don’t believe me.”

“I also don’t disbelieve you.” You counter, “Look, I need to go home, look at the evidence. Thank you for this, it’ll help.”

“If you need any help, Detective…”

“I know who to ask.” You finish your caf, and set some credits on the table, “Thank you, Doc.”

And then you leave. You walk the short distance back to your home, check the mail, and then step into your home and make sure the door is locked. And then you move into your back room.

Your back room is sparsely decorated. With several cork boards, a large solid table, and a cozy chair being the only furniture in the room. On the table is the case file and the evidence box.

You peel off your jacket and toss it on the couch, and then you start working.

***********

One day melts into two, which melts into three…and before you know it, it’s been over a week.

Your cork boards are full of notes and pictures, and the evidence is spread across the table neatly.

25 years worth of investigations is a lot, but you finally have a handle on it all. 

The original investigation had been solid. Every I was dotted and every T was crossed. Aside from the burn that Doc added to the evidence, you didn’t see anything that you could learn from the original investigation. 

That, you know, is where the other detectives slipped up. They assumed the Chief made a mistake in the original investigation, and focused their attention there. 

Understandable, perhaps, but ultimately a waste of time.

No. While the original investigation is important, you’re much more focused on the tips gathered by the tip hotline. 

Most of them are useless, and would have been useless even if they were investigated immediately. But there’s one tip that keeps drawing your attention.

25 years ago, just after Hound vanished, an old woman, a hedge wizard, had reported seeing a mysterious figure with a baby in the forest near her home. She even found a baby blanket later that night. But no one ever investigated her claim.

You pull the tip off of the cork board and you frown at it.

25 years is a long time, and according to the note the woman making the report had been in her 80s when she called in. She would be at least 105 years old now…the odds of her still being alive are slim.

But-

And that's the big thing, isn’t it? This is the only new lead in 25 years, you have an obligation to investigate this. 

So you copy the tip into your notebook and slide it into your purse. And then you pull on your winter boots, and winter jacket. And the last thing you grab is your baton, just in case, and you leave your house.

You check the address one last time, and turn to start walking. It’ll take you over an hour to get there on foot, but carriages don’t run in the snow. You stop at the cafe down the street and order a caf to help keep you warm while you walk.

The things you do for your paycheck.

An hour and a half later you stop in front of the house listed on the tip. 25 years has not been kind to the home. The house, which had once been lovingly tended to, had fallen into disrepair. The roof has collapsed in some places, and the door is broken on the hinges.

Still, you’re already here…

You carefully walk up the half rotten steps, and rap your knuckles on the door frame, “Hello?” You call, “I’m with Mandalore Investigations, is there anyone living here?”

The only answer is the sound of the wind. 

“If there is anyone living here, please say something. I’m coming in,” You take a step back and kick the door, causing it to finish falling to the ground. And then you light the small orb that acts as a lantern when an actual lantern is too unwieldy.

You step into the old house, carefully checking each step before you commit to it.

As you thought, the house is empty. Though it simply looks like the owner, likely the old woman from the tip line, ended up moving out and didn’t take any of her stuff with her.

Unfortunate, but not unexpected. You turn to leave the house before you end up getting hurt, when something catches your eye. There, sitting on what used to be a tea table, is a small blue blanket shrouded in magic.

The tip did mention that the old woman was a hedge wizard.

And even the least powerful of hedge wizards have the ability to create stasis fields. You inch over to the table and examine the table, rather than the blanket.

You realize that the table itself is covered in runes to keep the items on top of it in stasis. Clever. You lightly pluck the blanket off the table, and turn to leave the house before it collapses under you.

Once back outside, and a safe distance away from the house, you look at the blanket. It does look like a baby blanket, and it even looks like the blankets that King Jango’s children had been wrapped in when they were infants, but there’s no names, no identifying marks-

You sigh and slide the blanket into an evidence bag, and then stash both in your purse. All of that for, what, a blanket that may or may not belong to Hound? Maybe it really is too late…25 years is a long time.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize what you’re hearing right away. You frown and turn towards the forest, and then you flash the smallest of smiles when you see a massiff playing in the snow.

He’s barking and runs right over to you, and you crouch, “Hey there little guy, what are you doing so far from civilization?” You ask as you hold your hand out for him to sniff, he lets out an enthusiastic noise and flops on his side, and then rolls onto his back, and you see a collar, “Let’s see…Grizzer. Where’s your master, hm?” You ask as you rub his belly.

Grizzer barks and scrambles back to his feet, and bounds back towards the forest, and then stops, looking back at you.

You stand and watch it for a moment, your eyebrows creeping up as the massiff runs between you and the forest a couple of times. “Alright, alright.” You sigh, as you step towards the forest, carefully following him through the trees.

He never gets far enough away that you can’t see him. And whenever you stop, he runs around you and encourages you to continue moving forward.

You walk for, well, you don’t know how long. Long enough that you had to pull out your little lantern to see where you’re going. Long enough for the sun to set.

And then Grizzer runs off, “Hey!” You make an offended noise, but slowly, carefully, follow his paw prints.

Eventually you hear a voice, low, male, and the sound of Grizzer barking. His master, you assume. You lift the light orb a little higher and continue walking. Noting, with some bemusement, that the paw prints you’ve been following had grown larger and larger.

And then you step into a well lit clearing. There’s Grizzer, standing nearly two feet taller than you, with three heads. You make a mental note that Grizzer is apparently a cerberus rather than a massiff, but since he hasn’t been hostile to you at all, you decide that it’s barely important.

There’s a house, a cabin really, sitting in the center of the clearing, with a flourishing garden full of fresh fruits and vegetables, in spite of the snow falling from the sky. You can only assume some sort of magic is keeping the plants alive.

And then the door to the cabin opens and a man steps out. He’s tall and broad, with curly hair that stops at his shoulders, and is pulled up in a half-ponytail. 

You frown at him, mentally comparing him to a recent image of Prince Cody. The same nose, jaw, and cheek bones. Identical eye shape, and slope of the forehead. Same skin tone, same eye color. Your eyes narrow at him, his irises are gold, but they’re a burning gold, and he has two horns starting from his temple and laying back over his ears

“Hello,” He says, looking slightly bewildered, politely bewildered even, “I’ve never had a visitor before.”

You move closer to him, “Well, Grizzer was quite insistent.” You say lightly as you scan him with your eyes. He’s…taller than any of his brothers, save, maybe, Alpha-17. And as you get closer you notice delicate golden chains wrapped around his arms, neck, and vanishing under his clothes. Your best guess, they’re also wrapped around his legs. You also can’t help but notice that the skin under the chains is red and inflamed. 

“I apologize for that,” His voice is surprisingly gentle for such a massive man, “Grizzer has a mind of his own, I fear.”

You tilt your head slightly, “It’s alright. Though I am rather far from home now.”

He frowns, “You’ll simply have to spend the night.” He decides, “It’s not safe to travel at night, especially when it’s so cold.” He pauses, and eyes you warily, “I’m sorry, you’ve been staring at me since I came outside. I know I don’t look exactly huma-”

“You’re Hound, aren’t you?” You interrupt.

He stops mid-sentence and his jaw drops, “How can you possibly know that?” He asks, “I mean, yes. That is my name, but how?”

You fold your arms, and introduce yourself, and then offer a small smile, “I work for Mandalore Investigations.” You say gently, “We’ve been looking for you for 25 years. We never stopped.”

He gapes at you, “I…you…you can’t be more than 22.”

“True, I only received the case file a week and a half ago. But every detective has been given the case file at least once, and some of them have taken it multiple times.” Your voice is very gentle, because he looks like he’s about to shatter.

“I thought…I was sure that no one was looking for me.” Hound says quietly, “I…uh…please, come inside.” 

The cabin is cozy, and far too small. He’s essentially living in a studio, and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s been living alone. He pulls out a chair for you and you pull off your jacket and hat before you sit down, hanging both on the back of the chair.

“You’ve been alone for a while, haven’t you Hound?” You ask as he brings you a light dinner.

He sits across from you, “Yeah, it’s been years since I’ve had someone to talk to who isn’t Grizzer.” He motions to the massiff, who is back at the size of a normal dog and is rolling around on his bed.

“Can I ask…what happened? I mean…” You gesture to the horns, “How’d you end up like this?”

He reaches up and lightly touches one of his horns, and then his lips twitch into a wry smile, “Devils don’t like it when you outsmart them.” He says tiredly, “I was 15, and, well, things needed to change. And one thing led to another and the next thing I know I’m tricking a devil, and this is my punishment.”

“What did you get out of it?”

“My crops don’t die, regardless of the weather. And I always have enough to stay alive.” Hound explains. “But there’s also the punishment.” He taps one of the chains, “I’m quite literally chained to this clearing.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone had plans for me, once, or maybe they just wanted a child. In either event, it doesn’t matter now.” Hound leans back in his seat, “but…you must think I’m a mannerless oaf.” He says as he gets to his feet, “You’re probably frozen solid. Here-” He moves around the room, and he presses an overly large shirt and a pair of sleep pants into your hands, “The shower is just through there, feel free to use whatever you need to-”

“Hound-”

“I’ll find the cot, and you can sleep on my bed,” He continues, as he gently, very gently, pushes you into the bathroom, and shuts the door behind you.

You sigh quietly, but decide to take him up on his offer. A warm shower does sound nice, after all.

You shower quickly, not wanting to use all of his hot water, and you feel so guilty using his body wash, and shampoo and conditioner (though you wonder if he sends Grizzer to the market to buy this stuff for him), and you stubbornly comb your hair with your fingers rather than use his hair brush after you pull on the shirt and sleep pants that he graciously offered you.

You open the bathroom door, and Hound smiles at you guiltily, “Um, so, my cot is ruined beyond repair, so I’ll just sleep on the floor-”

“Okay, stop.” He stops talking as soon as you interrupt him, a blush crossing his face, “I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well I can’t let you sleep on the floor! It’s not right.” He replies.

“Then we share.” You counter as you fold your arms over your chest.

“I…uh…” Hound’s face flames red, “...if that’s what you want?”

“...have you ever actually met a woman before, Hound?” You ask.

“Yes!” He says defensive, and then he anxiously rubs the back of his neck, “Just not one that looks like you.”

“Well. It’ll be fine. And in the morning, I’ll see if I can get those chains off, because I am not leaving you here.” You say stubbornly.

He stares at you like he’s never met someone like you before, which he probably hasn’t, and something soft crosses his face. “Alright. Um…you can sleep closest to the wall, please.”

You climb into the bed and slide so that you’re nearest the wall, and Hound, carefully, climbs into the bed with you. He’s warm, and even the chains are warm against your skin.

He carefully lays on his side, facing away from you and mumbles a good night. So you, in turn, turn away from him and say the same thing.

********

You wake up the next morning feeling very, very warm. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you glance down, and you very carefully stifle your amusement.

At some point during the night, Hound managed to shift so that his face is pressed against your neck, and his arms are wrapped securely around you and his legs are tangled with your own.

Of course, you managed to tangle your fingers in his hair, so you figure you can’t really say anything about it. You wonder if you should wake him up, because he’s going to be really embarrassed no matter what, but when he mumbles something in his sleep and nuzzles closer to you, you decide to keep your mouth shut.

You must have dozed off a little, because the next thing you remember is Hound carefully, very carefully pulling himself away from you. You squint at him, half asleep, and you notice his face is bright red.

“Sorry,” He whispers, “I didn’t mean to…uh…use you as a pillow.”

You yawn and sit up, “S’okay. You’re warm.” You rub the sleep out of your eyes, and then look up at him properly, “Did you sleep well at least?”

“...better than I have in years,” Hound admits with a shrug, his gaze flicks to your face, and then down your neck, and then he looks away quickly, “Um…so…when did you want to leave?”

“Mm. Later. I want to see these chains first.” You reply as you slide out of the bed.

“How many of the chains do you want to see, mesh’la?” Hound asks, the nickname falling from his lips absently, and quietly.

You raise a single brow, “All of them. Or, well, as many as you’re comfortable with.” You clarify.

“Right, right.” Hound hesitates and then peels his shirt off, and you frown when you see the chains crisscrossing painfully across his chest. And then he hesitates a moment longer, and then, with his face red, he strips off the rest of his clothing, leaving him naked in the middle of the room.

Tension ripples through his frame, “Alright, Hound. I’m not going to touch you unless I have to, alright?” Your face is a little red as well, he is very attractive after all.

You carefully trace the chains with your eyes, they cross his entire body, but…there, in the middle of his back, is one clasp. You hum thoughtfully, and walk over to your purse, removing a small device. It’s something you’ve used on investigations before, to determine if there’s any hostile magic that might harm you. You hold it over the clasp and it takes on a yellow hue.

“Okay. So there’s a clasp in the middle of your back,” You say to Hound, “It’s not hostile, but it’s not…not hostile either.”

“Wait, hold on. If there’s any chance that this might hurt you I don’t want you to touch it.” Hound spins so he’s facing you, “I can live with this, I’m not worth getting hurt over.”

You set the device back into your purse, and then step closer to him, “Hound.” Your voice is very gentle and you keep your gaze locked on his face, his hands twitch and then he settles them on your shoulders, a look of longing on his face. You very gently place your hands on his sides, and he trembles slightly.

He’s so touch starved that it breaks your heart.

“I think you’ve been trapped here long enough,” You whisper to him as you slowly slide your hands around his back and step closer to him, “don’t you?”

You can feel trembling under your light touches, and you’re not surprised when his hands move to your hips and he pulls you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair.

You slide your hands up his back and find the clasp, and then, with deft fingers, you unfasten the chains. Your fingers burn, as though someone just shoved your hand into a fire, but slowly the chains melt away.

There’s the sound of metal falling to the ground, but you’re not paying any attention to the chains anymore. Instead you curl your arms tightly around Hound and you press your face against his collar, “There,” You whisper, “you’re free.”

He pulls away and stares at you, and then looks down at his body. Angry burns cover him where the chains once laid, but there’s not a speck of gold anywhere on his body.

“I…I can’t…” He trails off, at a loss for words, and then he looks at you, “Are you hurt?”

“Hm? Oh…” You offer him your hands, which are covered in angry looking blisters, “They’ll heal eventually.” You say lightly, “And it was worth it.”

Hound stares at your hands for almost a whole minute, and then he reaches out and lightly cups your face with his hands, and he stares at your face for a long moment. And then his lips are on yours, warm and soft, and yet somehow demanding.

And then he pulls away and lightly rests his forehead against yours, his gaze locked with yours, “That was…inappropriate, I suppose. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You reply, your face red, “Uhm…you should get dressed, and so should I actually, and then we can leave.”

“Uh. Yeah. Right. Yes.” Hound replies, suddenly remembering that he’s totally naked and completely pressed against you, “Sorry, mesh’la! I…uh…” He hurriedly pulls his sleep clothes back on, looking very, very sheepish. “I’ll just…go shower.” And then he bolts to the shower, and you press a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles.

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

One week later, you’re standing next to Hound as some of his brothers, Stone, Thire, Thorn, and Prince Cody move a bedroom set into your guest room. Hound feels more comfortable living with you than he does living with any of his brothers, and you’re grateful for the company, honestly.

More importantly, Hound seems to be incapable of not touching you when you’re within arms length of him. Which works out well for both of you. He’s touch starved, and you are a physically affectionate person, works out best for the both of you.

You aren’t sure how you feel about the actual army of men visiting you at all hours of the day though. You side eye Prince Cody critically as he single handedly shoves a new mattress into Hound’s room. You’ll adjust, you suppose.

You might not adjust to the standing offer to have dinner with the King, though. That’ll take time to get used to. Turns out finding one of his long lost children earns you special privileges.

There’s a knock on your front door, and you hop off the couch (which has been moved into a better location because of Prince Fox and Prince Wolffe who visited yesterday-) and you open the door.

“Hey there, Little Red!” The Chief beams down at you like a favored uncle, “How’s the case going?”

“Oooh. Right. There’s been an update.” You reply.

“Oh? Do tell.”

You hold up a single finger and then turn and vanish into the house, and return a moment later tugging Hound by the wrist, “Chief meet Hound. Hound, this is the man who investigated your disappearance 25 years ago.”

The Chief’s jaw drops, “Holy-...you found him, Little Red?”

Hound glances at you, “Little Red?” He asks, with a slow grin crossing his lips.

“Please don’t.”

Hound’s grin grows, and he offers the chief his hand, “I’m Hound. Thanks for looking for me for so long.”

“You’re quite welcome, young man. I’m sorry it took us so long to find you.” The Chief replies, “I knew Little Red would find you though, she’s one of my best detectives.”

“She is pretty amazing,” Hound agrees.

“Did you want to come in chief?” You ask, “They’re getting Hound’s room set up now.”

“No, no. I have work to do. Oh, but Hyde is mad at you, Little Red. Apparently you left the case file in the evidence box, and now it’s stuck there until you go and claim it.”

“Oh. Shit.” You muttered, “That’s my bad.”

“Deal with it on Monday. I’m also giving you back the five open cases from two weeks ago. I don’t know why I employ those idiots.” The Chief sighs, and then he glances at Hound, “Do you want a job?”

“I…don’t know anything about police work?”

“There are classes.”

“Oh, well sure then, I guess.” Hound replies, bemused, “Hey vod’e, I have a job!” He calls into the house as he heads back to setting up his room.

The Chief lightly touches your shoulder, “A hell of a thing you did, kid. Good job.”

You grin and duck your head, “Thank you, sir.”

You shut the door as he turns away and your grin grows. You’re a damned good detective, and everyone you work with will know that soon enough. And now you actually have friends and a social life. Well, and Hound, who is so much more than just a friend. Things are definitely starting to look up.