#ah i remember this moment so dearly

[brain4stew]

forsaken killers with a deceased so perchance

Anon… Do you like angst?? ☹️💔

But alr then…

(Again, I don’t know the characters exact personalities and so on, so they might, if not most likely will be OOC!!)

‼️ WARNING; ANGST ‼️

HEADCANONS/SOMETHING UNDER THE CUT!! ;

(1x1x1x1)

• Ah yes, the embodiment of hatred… Having yet another thing to fuel his hatred.

• You were a great, respectful and caring s/o. (*COUGH* In his mind, spouse. *COUGH*)

• He loved you, dearly. He still does, even though you aren’t with him anymore.

• He keeps a minion close to him, when he’s back in the killer lobby. The minion in question? Being you.

• He has used necromancy on you, to keep you by him. Even if you’re now just a minion, who attacks survivors…

• In rounds, he’s filled with pure hatred, as he always is. If one of the survivors even remotely looks, or acts like you, he’ll pause for a moment, before mercilessly killing them. Pretty harshly.

• How dare a mere mortal survivor, act and look even remotely close to you?! IN FRONT OF HIM. NO LESS.

• Whenever that happens, he’s showing no mercy, whatsoever to anyone and everyone.

• Back in the killer lobby, he immediately seeks out your minion self. Hesitantly hugging, holding and kissing you.

• He wishes that you didn’t have to go… But, he couldn’t do much about your death, could he…?

(John Doe)

• Ah, John Doe. He knows you don’t have a high life expectancy, however…

• His corruption only worsened when you were gone.

• WHERE DID YOU GO?! PLEASE… You are one of the few people who can calm his corruption down…

• In rounds he’s killing every survivor he can, not caring about them at all.

• He does hesitate when someone acts or looks like you, but he kills them nonetheless, when his corruption spirals.

• Foul vermin survivors.

• In the killer lobby, he immediately goes to his specified room, looking at the picture of you.

• You were so happy, smiling, and holding his corrupted hands, before they became too dangerous to touch…

• Although he doesn’t remember much, and forgets quite a bit, he’ll still always love you. You were the perfect s/o…

(Jason)

• Jason, Jason… A mama’s boy, really…

• His mother took an interest in you first, as you were always kind to him back in ‘51.

• Jason, was always quiet, but trusted his mother’s words about you.

• You both were a picture perfect couple. You didn’t bother to pry into his history, because you loved him, as he is.

• Why I’m saying that you “loved him”, as if you don’t anymore you may ask? Well, it’s because you’re dead.

• Jason now has yet another reason to kill survivors, as it was one of them, that killed you.

• He doesn’t understand why they’d kill someone he cherishes. His mother was already dead, and he can still hear her, and follows with what she says…

• But why did they kill you?

• He’s killing every survivor, in cold blood. Not a single one survives him, whatsoever.

• If there’s a survivor that looks or acts like you, he’ll pause, before his mother tells him, and reminds him that; you’re dead. You’re gone. To kill the survivors.

• He does so. Killing them all.

• Back in the killer lobby, he goes to his specified room. Going to his mother, (if you haven’t seen friday 13th, then idk if you know what I’m talking about…) and talks to her. Hell, he even keeps your body near his mother.

• It’s so he knows you’re not going to be taken away from him or his mother. He still loves you, a lot.

(Mafioso)

• This prick. This guy, absolutely adores you. He was the first one to tell you his feelings.

• You accepted of course. You didn’t pry into his work either, you figured it out yourself, due to how he was dressed. (You thought he was one of those cliche mafia guys. Which he is.)

• Whenever he has to chase the ones in the dream land, due to their debt there, he’ll always have one or two of his men staying by you at all times.

• That was a terrible idea however.

• One of his “trustworthy” men… Killed you. Why? Perhaps the guy thought you were just a distraction to his boss.

• Mafioso, of course killed the guy out of anger and revenge for you.

• He kept your body in those freezing cubicles in his room. He doesn’t trust his men after what happened. He only trusts his boss, Eunoia. To be near you, and watch over your body, in case of any fractures on you.

• In rounds, he’s pissed off everytime. Someone looks and acts almost exactly like you… What a fucking vermin of a survivor.

• He kills every and all survivors. Hell, he lets them all know that he doesn’t take kindly to anyone looking, or even acting like you.

• By that, I mean he broke several bones of the said survivor that looked and acted similar to you. ♡

• Back in the killer lobby, or, the shared lobby of him and his boss. He immediately goes to his room, where Eunoia is also.

• He constantly asks how you’re doing, as if you’re awake, and will be awake soon. (You won’t…)

• Eunoia always tells him to calm the fuck down, and tells him every update she has about your body, as you’re in the freezing cubicle.

• Mafioso looks at you in the freezing cubicle, savoring, smiling faintly, and even loving the way you look. Even when dead, you’re still a beauty in his eyes…

(Help, I just noticed that 1x’s and Mafioso’s have way more texts than the other two killers 😦 I think I love Mafioso and 1x too much…)

[radioisntdead]

Hey! I really liked your headcanon about Alastor. It’s got my imagination running wild >_< What do you think about a romantic! Oneshot with Alastor where everyone can see the results of the biting game on both us and Alastor (assuming we both break skin and leave marks). I’m not sure how Alastor would be caught without his coat on, much less with with short sleeves… maybe a spilled drink on a hot day. But I keep imagining this scenario:

Angel: Asks Alastor if he had a rough night after seeing his arms covered in bites (assuming rough sexy time)

Alastor: Responds yes (remembering how he got cornered and couldn’t get away because using his shadows to escape is against the rules of the game)

Angel: :O

Good evening my dear! Thank you so much for requesting this I had so much fun writing it and I'm so glad you liked my Alastor biting headcanons!

And because I positively adore and I am mildly obsessed with deers I think that's why I like Alastor so much? The reader has deer attributes like Alastor Specifically whitetail deers because apparently they can jump eight feet in the air! And the reader jumps a bunch, reader is refered to as Prancer by Angel, I'm not gonna lie I had no idea how to end it so the ending is rushed! and everything is a tad bit messy, my apologies, Full italics is a mini flashback

Warnings!!

Biting, the drawing out of blood, the reader's blood is a vibrant pink for fun! Angel dust alluding to sexual acts, Still getting used to writing Alastor so once again leaning into fanon and possibly some OOC behaviors.

not proofread because I don't have a beta reader, Enjoy!

The two of you hadn't meant to get so carried away, it started out peacefully enough, you and Alastor were just laying on couch he had in his radio tower, it was later in the night, you suppose it was just past midnight,

He was looking over papers with whatever radio nonsense on them for tomorrow's broadcast, and you were peacefully reading a book with your head on his shoulder, with soft jazz playing in the background, your jackets were hung neatly on the coat rack, a warm cup of coffee and a nice soothing [Drink of your choice] sat on the desk.

It was treasured peaceful moment, until your beloved strawberry-flavored Bambi decided to ruin it by picking up your arm and biting into it like it was beef jerky and looking like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart,

You sat up quickly, your arm still in his grasp, eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away from your arm, licking away the escaping blood like the little cannibalistic freak he is

"Alastor, My darling dear, why are you like this?"

You ask with an exasperated tone as your dearly beloved just kept a smug grin on his face and patted the sides of his mouth with a handkerchief he had gotten from hell knows where,

Sitting up, you blink slowly before immediately pouncing at the Radio demon, your own sharp teeth bared and ready to bite only for your beloved deer to move out of the way and quickly moving behind you as you fall face first into where Alastor once sat,

"Ah, you have to be quicker then that my dear!"

He said with a laugh before turning around to grab his coat, clearly not expecting you to stand up on his couch like a uncivilized heathen and jump on him managing to knock him off his feet? Hooves? Whatever he has and sink your teeth into his exposed neck.

And so the game begun with the both of you biting each other.

Unfortunately this little game of yours comes with consequences and what are those consequences?

Well for starters Alastor's coat was now stained with noticable pink blood [From you of course who else!]

Bite marks littered his arms from your chompin' down, not to mention you had bitten his neck! scandalous behavior!

You weren't much better with bite marks though not only on both of your arms but shoulders, and hands, hell he almost bit your face and he would've if you didn't headbutt him!

You had grabbed his coat along with a few other articles of blood covered clothing you gently folded and placed them in a bag to take over to the drycleaners, honestly you could probably get the blood stains out with cold water but neither you nor Alastor had time for that and while you adored Niffty you did NOT trust her with washing some of the articles of clothing that you had, so the drycleaners it was!

Alastor was up in his radio tower doing a broadcast while Everyone else was scattered through the hotel, notably Angel dust and Husk were chatting about something at the bar as you walked by it you gave them a quick wave.

"Good afternoon you two! I'm heading to the drycleaners if anyone asks."

You said as you quickly made your way past the duo, making a swift plot convenient exit.

Angel dust raised an eyebrow as he briefly caught the sight of teeth marks on your wrist from the exposed hem of your sweater.

"Eh, didn't think they had it in em' to do anything beyond handholding"

"They don't, Probably they probably bit by that fucked up creature of theirs."

Husk said sliding a glass over to Angel who shrugged before downing whatever liquid was in the glass.

Alastor had entered the bar area, after a couple of minutes later, wearing a red button up and vest, the same colors as his normal attire, he had rolled up his sleeves during the broadcast and unfortunately forgot to unroll them to cover the bite marks on his arms,

He missed his usual attire but unfortunately it was gone with you for the foreseeable future.

"Oo, Rough night freaky face?''

Angel dust joked wiggling his eyebrows as he swirled whatever alcoholic drink Husk had provided him while Husk shook his head while wiping a glass.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Alastor said his smile tightening as he recalled you cornering him in the Bayou in your shared room, Alastor wasn't the type to run away typically, even less the type to give up easily even to his beloved spouse,

unfortunately for him though,

The little game of yours had some rules, such as no leaving any marks on facial areas, No tearing off any chunks of flesh {Gonna love having a spouse with cannibalistic tendencies}, and No using any type of power the two of you had, which means good ol' Alastor couldn't use his funky lil' shadows

And that made him more vulnerable to his deranged spouse's tackling strategy.

"Alastor get out of the tree,"

"No."

You had no idea how you ended up chasing your spouse into a tree, you don't know how he even got INTO the tree, but he sat upon it kicking his legs back and forth like a gleeful child, staring down at you, for someone who's a deer he's oddly cat like,

You sighed turning around and walking away as your beloved laughed in taunting tone

"Running off so soon dearest? And here I thought you- aCK"

Alastor was cut off by you running back, hurling yourself off the ground and tackling him like a feral flying squirrel onto the ground.

Blinking away at the memory Alastor returned his focus to Angel dust's gobsmacked expression that turned into a grin as he laughed while Husk moved further into the bar shaking his head.

"I was jokin' around, but sounds like you and prancer actually got freaky!''

"Pardon me, we w̸̧̢͉̦̟̭̪͕̉͘ḩ̷̛̛̤̬͖̿͆̈́͘â̸͔͔̣̊̿ẗ̴̖̦̆̔͛̿̎̾̆̚͠?"

Thank you for tuning in folks! My apologies for the messy one shot, but I have a Vox x reader that's almost done that's more put together, and a more put together Alastor fic, Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[justanotherescapism]

I need more homelander!!!

I have homie brainrot,feed my hunger please!

A/N: The homie brainrot is real...

Read my mind

Pairing: Homelander x Fem!Supe!Reader

Tags/TW: Established relationship, references to childhood abuse, reader is telepathic, a lil angsty, slight spoilers for season 4

Word count: 1142

Psychic waited at the table of the seven, they were all waiting on Homelander. He was late for yet another meeting. She knew that he was under a lot of stress but lately it had gotten a lot worse, maybe it was this whole starlighter stuff and Neuman. 

“Hey Psychic, can’t you read his mind and find out where he is?” Deep asked.

“No, I promised I wouldn’t read his mind. Doesn’t matter anyways, unless he is close enough I can’t.” Psychic shifted in her seat, as the Deep whispered an insult under his breath. If Homelander knew what he had said, he’d have his head, but he still was nowhere to be seen. Regardless, they would wait until he showed up, everyone but Psychic was scared of him. 

Then just like that, Homelander came bursting through the doors. 

“Sorry, I’m late guys, just got caught up is all. So, now that you are here,” Homelander was going on about his latest plan, but he was smiling through gritted teeth and that’s all that Psychic noticed. His jaw was clenched too and hands gripped the chair a little too hard. He was agitated but she had no idea why. 

“Deep blow A-Train.” That snapped her out of thoughts. 

“What?” He said.

“Get on your knees and blow A-Train, really.” Homelander started to laugh but it was sinister. The deep stood up looking at the other seven to see what they thought. His face turned red. Psychic couldn’t deny that she enjoyed seeing him squirm a little, after all, he wasn’t her favorite teammate. 

“Sexuality is a spectrum, bro.” A-Train looked just as uncomfortable as Deep. Homelander stopped them before Deep actually did anything, much to the relief of them both. Psychic caught Homelander’s eye and he quickly looked away from you, as much as you enjoyed seeing Deep squirm she was still uncomfortable with the whole thing, and he knew that. 

After the meeting, she didn’t even bother sticking around, just rushing straight off to their shared apartment. Walking out onto the balcony, she breathed in the fresh air. She loved Homelander but sometimes he was too much. She looked down at the city, saw a woman walking alone, she sunk her thoughts into her, and soon enough their thoughts intertwined. The woman was on her way home to her partner who she loved dearly, she had no anxiety, no fear of him and it was refreshing to feel for Psychic. Most people aren’t with the strongest supe ever, sometimes it’s nice to pretend she wasn’t, for a moment anyway. 

“Whose head are you fiddling with today?” Homelander snapped Psychic out of her trance, making her jump to one side. Before relaxing when she saw who it was. 

“Just some random woman.”

“Ah.” They stood looking at the city in silence. She keep picking at her fingers, tearing small bits of skin off. Homelander noticed and took her hand in his. “You shouldn’t do that, you’ll make your fingers all sore again.” He kissed where she had been scratching. Her heart melted a little before remembering the meeting.

“Are we going to talk about the meeting?”

“Do we have to?”

“I think we should.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Are you okay? You have been erratic recently.”

“Have I?”

“Yes, you know you have. You avoided my eye in the meeting, you only do that when you know I don’t like something.”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to look at you?” Homelander regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but he was stubborn and wouldn’t let it go. She didn’t even respond, just turning away from him, looking out to the otherside of the city. Her eyes were welling up with tears but she would rather die than let him see. 

“You’re a dick.” She finally said, and walked back into the balcony. She made herself a glass of water, downing it. Homelander remained on the balcony for a moment, thinking about what he would say now. He did this all the time, took things too far, and it was hurting her, the one person he did not want to hurt. When he walked in, she was on the couch, laying down, defeated. He lifted her head up, sitting down and placing her head on his lap. Slowly stroking her hair, he still struggled with what to say. There are only so many ways to apologize and quite frankly he had exhausted them all. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, meekly. She looked up at him. Her watery eyes were searching his. 

“Please just talk to me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but that didn’t matter. Homelander took a deep breath, pursing his lips after. He was conflicted, and Psychic didn’t have to read his mind to know it. 

“I’m just…read my mind.” 

“What?” She sat up, shocked at his request. Never in all the time they had been together had he asked her to read his mind. 

“I want you to read my mind.” 

“I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“I know. Please do it.”

“Okay.” She braced herself, slowly she began to seep into his mind. His was tougher to decode, his thoughts were rapidly racing around. Reaching out, she finally understood the rhythm and began to sync with them. 

Homelander was scared, scared about ageing, death and his legacy. Ryan wasn’t like him and he knew that was okay but deep down he wants Ryan to be like him, not for vanity but for acceptance. She thought that was all, she didn’t want to probe further but then something was blazing in his mind, it had its own corner, shut away. Psychic reached for it. All she could see was a room? A white room, and lots of pain. He was led out of the room and into a darker one. He was crying, then there was red and the heat, god it was burning him alive. The pain was like none she had ever felt.

It pulled her out of her trance, screaming and rubbing her skin, crying and moaning. Homelander tried to get her to calm down but nothing seemed to work, she was hysterical. He knew exactly what memory she had seen, he didn’t want her to see that but it was so hard to repress the thought sometimes. 

“I’m sorry, you’re safe, I promise they aren’t going to hurt you.” He cradled her head against his chest and soon enough her breathing began to steady itself. She reached up to his face, looking deeply into his eyes. Her eyes were ablaze, fiery and angry. He had never seen her this way. He would’ve been scared, if he wasn’t Homelander. 

“Where are they?” She asked. Standing and walking towards the balcony.

“What? Why?”

“We are going to hurt them like they hurt you.” 

[melodic-haze]

MORE SAD SUB ARLECCHINO. PLEASE. I NEED TO EAT. like shes in absolute TEARS SHES SO ME I LOVE HER PLEASE FEED ME MORE.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: A lil petplay (it's like one paragraph)

☆ — NOTES: I lied about not writing for this week lol I needed a distraction. Anyway combined these two bc they worked very sillily together hope yall don't mind 🫶 also YES I DO REMEMBER YOU 🎀 anon w my first ask about Arle :333

Oh man oh man oh MANNN I wanna do soooo many things to her auhfhthgh

Much as I ADORE absolutely ruining this absolute UNIT of a woman, I also want to take care of her and dote on her so much to the point where she fucking cries from being treated so well UGHHHHH

I feel like there are times at night when she remembers what she had lost in order to get to where she is right now (the chance to have a life that went in a more conventional direction, along w ESPECIALLY Clervie) and while she has learned to deal with the feeling itself in solitary, whenever you see her look out the window she is no longer The Knave—this was Peruere, a lonely girl yearning for something from so long ago

Even when she seems like such a self-assured person, all that composure threatens to fall into pieces the moment you, the one she now holds so achingly dearly in her heart, go to hug her and tell her that she's no longer alone :( no matter how many times you tell her or no matter how many times this scene repeats, it will never stop affecting her so deeply :(((((

I do think that she actually does love to sit on your lap. Sure, maybe it's kinda unnecessary and even more than a little embarrassing, but it makes her feel cared for instead of the way around that she's used to 🫶

"Who would've known that the real reason why you like being on my lap was for this, though..?"

You curled your fingers up in order to emphasise your point, hitting that specific spot within her that forces out a strangled gasp as her thighs make a feeble attempt to close themselves off.. despite the fact that you were comfortably sat right in-between.

Arlecchino makes no effort to answer you properly right away with one of her ever-so-composed words of wisdom or whatever they may be—she opts to tuck her head into the crook of your neck as fat tears roll down her cheeks, your skin almost as wet as her drooling cunt that you just can't get enough of.

(Her makeup is smudged too, though by this point it doesn't really seem like she cares.)

Though with the way your other hand was wrapped around her, softly stroking her back as if soothing your crying mess, and the way her own arms were clinging onto you, you both knew there was so much more to this position beyond your carnal actions.

Something much more emotionally charged, something much more than she usually let herself handle.

And perhaps it might also be because you had been at this for a while; your little lapdog was desperate for a release every time.. only for you to take the chance away from her, as if faking your pet out of her sweet treat. You couldn't help but play with her a little, not when her reactions are often the sweetest—uncharacteristic whines making its way out of her lips as she pleads you to fuck her silly, to--

"--make me forget for a brief moment, please-- ah..!"

And as her loving partner, of course you'd want to comfort her in whatever way you can.

"I'll make you forget your very title, Peruere."

"Please--"

Especially if it means fucking her until all that longing is long gone.

Need her to go from crying about who she had to kill to crying about who she ended up gaining in the end (and crying about how you make her feel too :3)

Just softly tell her that you love her, sing her praises, take care of her, kiss the tears rolling down her face, give her everything that she hadn't been meant to have or hadn't even realised she could ever have as the 'monster' her past has created

I just really really wanna spoil her and make her cry by overwhelming her with so much affection she doesn't know what to do with as someone who doesn't often let such things dictate her actions dude idk 🤷‍♀️

[supercorpkid]

How You Get the Girl

Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers.

Word Count: 2500.

Notes: I really love this fic, and part 2 (my favorite ever written) is coming soon :)

"Hey, remember my friend Barry?" Kara asks as you settle onto her couch, balancing containers of takeout food. The late hour has granted Kara a break from her Supergirl duties, allowing for a rare moment of tranquility.

"Barry Allen?" You confirm, and she nods. "The one from another Earth?"

"Yeah." She hands you your food and takes a seat beside you, facing you. "Sometimes we meet just to talk, instead of dealing with end-of-the-multiverse situations."

"Nice. I didn't know that." You start eating, but Kara hesitates, an uncommon occurrence as she's typically the one speaking with her mouth full. "Have you seen him recently?"

"Yeah, and he told me something amusing." Kara tilts her head, uncertain. "He ended up in the wrong universe, thinking he was coming here. He was very confused because everything was oddly similar. You know, there was me, you, Alex, Lena, J'onn…"

"Isn't that normal for different universes?" You furrow your brows. "I might not know much about it, but Lena explained once that when a diversion event occurs, a new Earth is created, so—"

"Yeah, yeah." Kara interrupts, contemplating her words as you watch curiously. "The weird part was that you and Lena were..." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Together."

"Okay?" You return your attention to your food, losing interest. "We do spend a lot of time together."

"No, I mean, romantically together. Dating." Kara's revelation makes you snap your head up, heart racing. "More than that, actually. You guys were married! And had a kid!"

"A kid?" You laugh nervously. "Now that's absurd."

"Really? The kid part is absurd?" Kara sets aside her untouched food. "So you and Lena being married didn't strike you as absurd enough?"

You swallow hard, avoiding Kara's gaze as your cheeks flush. Is any of what Kara's saying absurd? Not entirely. Have you thought about you and Lena together before? Definitely. Have you secretly hoped for the day Lena will stop pining over Kara so you can do something about your love for her? Absolutely. Will you ever confess this to Kara? Not a chance.

"I mean," You take a deep breath, raising your head and trying to compose yourself. "Perhaps that's why the new Earth was created, right? A wild new scenario? Me and Lena."

Kara blinks, then chuckles. "I guess you're right." She finally picks up her food and begins eating. "I'm not sure if that's how a new Earth is created, but it's certainly wild enough."

Yeah. Wild enough.

Lena steps off the elevator, and you lift your head to admire her before she notices. Her hair is in perfect dark waves down her shoulders. She looks so tiny in her white sneakers, but you love them so dearly because you know how much more comfortable she's been ever since she stopped wearing those awful heels for work. Her lips, just a splash of red in them, as she's recently been dabbing with wearing less makeup than usual. You don't think she's ever looked this pretty.

The headquarters is unusually quiet; J'onn is in another room, Kara is at work, Alex is out with her girlfriend, and Winn is occupied in one of the computers. For now, it's just you and Lena, which means pining is almost allowed. 

"Hey, Y/N." Lena approaches, carrying a gigantic book and sporting a playful grin. "I know you're gearing up to tease me about my book, so go ahead."

"Honestly, Lena. You think too little of me." She raises one eyebrow at you and you hold back your smile. You manage your best British accent. "Have you gone mad, Hermione? Are you a witch or not?"

"Ah. There it is—the Harry Potter quote I've been waiting for." Lena drops the book onto the table with a thud, and you glance at the cover. "Ironically, it's actually about magic." You offer her a smirk, earning an eye roll in return. "So, has Kara mentioned anything about her last encounter with The Flash?"

"Uh." Your mouth drops, why is Lena bringing this up? "She – She might've mentioned seeing him."

"Right. So apparently she told him about my theory on elseworlds and he doesn't agree with it." Lena opens her book, looking for a page. And you breathe out, relieved you won't need to have that fun conversation with someone else. "So, you know, obviously I have to prove him wrong."

"Obviously." 

You stare at her lips, curving into a smile. So red and perfect. So close and yet so far away. She might be beside you, but the gap between you feels insurmountable.

"Oh, and he also said something about us being married!" She says and you choke on your own saliva and starts coughing violently. Lena's hand goes to your back and she soothes you, in a protective manner. "I mean, I know it's a little far-fetched, but that's an odd reaction."

"I just –" You try to breathe again, ignoring Lena's hands on your back and the way it makes your body shiver under her touch. "I wasn't expecting that. Sorry."

Lena chooses to ignore your awkwardness, which is very much appreciated, and you fall silent thinking about things you will not have, body parts you will not hold, and the reciprocated love that you won't feel. Thoughts etched in the inside of your mind, so addicted to the illusion of a love that never was and never will be.

"How –" You look back at her and she raises her head, previously nose buried in the book, and you swallow your nervousness. "How does a diversion event occur in order to create a new Earth? Is it something big and worldwide, or is it something small and insignificant?"

"Well, it is commonly thought to be big events. The small insignificant things that follow are usually in response to them."

"I see." You breathe deep one more time, mastering your best courage. "So, what would happen if I were to meet the other me or you from another universe? Would it be a paradox or something?"

"No. We're all different people." You bite the inside of your mouth thinking about it. Lena's voice brings you back from your trance. "Why the sudden interest?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm just trying to understand more." You smile getting up from your place. "Thanks for explaining it to me." She looks at you curiously and you over explain things with your arms, like a lunatic. "Things are slow today. I'm just gonna head home. If there's an emergency, just hit me up."

"Oh, sure." Lena has barely noticed you're gone, nose buried in the book once again. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Is it madness? You pace the apartment floor, wrestling with your thoughts. Is it crazy to entertain the idea of venturing into another Earth just to witness a scenario where you and Lena are together? Is it reckless and irresponsible? Is it even fair?

But this love you feel for her has been eating you from the inside. You don't believe there's ever been a space quite as big as the one she wished into existence between your heart and hers. So how can you not? How can you not go on an excursion to find out how to summon this love into being?

"Hey!" Kara taps on your window and you turn around to look at her. "What's the emergency?"

"I need to go on a trip." You say. Packed bags at the edge of the couch, forced smile on your face. She flies in, landing close to it.

"Whe –"

"Can't tell you where. Just wanted to give you a heads-up so you won't worry."

Kara studies you, suspicion evident in her eyes. "Did something happen? Are you going on a mission?"

"No!" You rush to assure her, preventing any further questions. "No, no. Nothing happened, really. It's not a –" But it is a mission of sorts. "Not a real mission, maybe one just to answer a question that keeps me fast awake at night."

Kara squints her eyes looking at you, clearly finding your act extremely suspicious, and you curse yourself for your breath stuck in your lungs and the heart beating almost out of your body.

"Kara, you don't need to worry, I promise."

"Too late! Am worried!" She breathes out, sitting on your couch, right next to your bag. "What's going on? You've been acting weird these days. And DON'T –" She points at you accusingly, because she knows you were about to open your mouth and defend yourself. "say you're not, because I know you and you can't fool me, no matter how much you want to."

She's right. Kara knows you inside out. But there's one thing she's mistaken about: you've been successfully fooling her for months.

This pining over Lena, this ridiculous huge crush you've been nurturing for Lena Luthor has been going for far too long. You crave the way she smells and how she talks. You dream about green eyes and perfect arched eyebrows directed at you. You're consistently going out of your way just to see her. You jump on cases, and suggest team pairings. It's crazy the fact that no one noticed yet, because honestly? You don't think you're doing a far too good of a job when your mouth literally drops at the sight of her.

And yet, your best friends haven't figured it out. None of them. Not even the Kryptonian with super hearing and x-ray vision. 

"You have nothing to worry about, really. But I can't tell you where I'm going, so you're just gonna have to trust me on this one." You try your best puppy eyes and sweet smile. "You do, right? You trust me?"

Kara's eyes soften immediately as she stands and comes closer to you, "Of course I do, Y/N. You're a strong, powerful woman and you can take care of yourself." She reaches for your arm and winks at you. "Plus, you have me on speed dial."

She means the watch.

You agree with your head and hug her goodbye.

You've never been to another Earth. Have heard enough about it, though, to not look completely lost and out of place. So you do your research, does Supergirl exist? Is Lena running some kind of business empire? Where do all the heroes meet up?

You're quick to find out, LuthorCorp is still very much a thing here, and it's run by yours truly, your so-called wife, Lena. So you make your way there first thing. 

"Hi," You try, while talking to the receptionist. "I'm here to see Lena, I'm –"

"Mrs. Luthor!"

Startled, you glance behind, finding no one. "Where?" Then the realization dawns. "Oh. Oh! You mean me. Yeah, I never quite got used to it. Can I go up?"

"Of course, ma'am."

You step into the elevator, musing over how Lena's last name sounds rather fitting when associated with you. In fact, you might prefer it to your own.

"Mrs. Luthor," you overhear Lena's assistant on the phone as soon as she spots you. "Your wife is here."

You make a gesture to correct her, but she's already running to the door. "Mrs. Luthor, please." she nods at you.

"Oh, you don't have – it's ok. I can –" You finally smile back at her. "I'll take it from here, thanks."

As soon as the door closes behind you, Lena makes her way towards you.

Holy shit, she's a mirror image of your Lena. Not a single strand of hair out of place. She even wears the same style of heels your Lena used to, with a high ponytail and those perfect red lips curved into a smile.

"Darling, I didn't know you were dropping by." Before you can say anything, she's planting a kiss on you—a short, sweet peck that catches you off guard. It takes a few moments for you to close your eyes and reciprocate, only to find Lena pulling away. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm not your wife!" The words burst out before she can lean in again, the realization hitting you hard. It hurts to say, especially when all you want is to kiss Lena once more, even though she's not truly your Lena.

"What?" Lena's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"I'm a different Y/N. From another Earth." You point to yourself, trying to convey the truth. She stares at you in disbelief, so you rack your brain for ways to convince her. "Call your wife, and you'll see."

Lena blinks, then reaches for her phone on her desk. After a brief conversation, she hangs up. "You're not my wife," she confirms, setting her phone down. "Sorry for the unexpected kiss. You look exactly like her. Well, you are her."

"It's okay. I can't say I hated it." You admit, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks at her amused smirk. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"Let me guess, your own world is in danger, and you need our help, or something equally insane?" Lena guesses with a sigh.

"My world is fine. But I do need your help with something insane."

Lena gestures toward the couch, and you follow suit. "Do tell, not-my-wife."

"How did we end up together in this universe? How did I win you over?" You're not even half seated yet and are blurting out questions.

"Win me over?" Lena chuckles at your choice of words. "Oh, darling. You fell in love with a Lena?"

"I'm afraid I did. Except mine is in love with Kara, so –"

"Oh, ok." This Lena shakes her head like that thought is insane. "Can't help you in that area. I was always in love with you – your version from here. In fact, you didn't win me over. I was the one who had to win you."

"Oh yeah, that was probably so hard. Flash those green eyes and a knowing smirk at me, and I'm already head over heels for you." 

Lena nods in agreement, a smile playing on her lips. "To be honest, that was pretty much it."

Great, this entire excursion to another universe was useless. This Y/N finally got the girl, and you can't be helped.

"I'm sorry," Lena is quick to say. "I know I was of no help, but don't lose hope!"

"How do you know–"

"Please, Y/N. I am your wife." She reaches for your hand, smiling warmly. "If you fell in love with me here and in your universe, there's likely others where we end up together. I'm not saying you can visit them all—"

"I will visit them all!" You declare, rising from the couch, and you can practically feel Lena rolling her eyes. As you stand, she does too, and you share a goodbye hug. "Thanks for your help, not-my-wife! A pity kiss goodbye in case I never get the girl?"

She chuckles at your jest and plants a kiss on your cheek. "I'm certain you'll get her."

With renewed determination, you prepare for another journey to another Earth.

[chocholattes]

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Handicrafts 101…(ft. Uryu ishida!)

Summary: You wish to learn how to sew after seeing Uryu’s incredible embroidering skills for yourself while waiting for him to finish up at his club. A few days later, he’s prepared a little session for you to learn everything you need… what’re you waiting for? It’s time to learn!

Content: GN! Reader, pure fluff, a tiny bit of banter between u and Uryu!! Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic (though it does get a bit sappy at one point ><)

Character: Uryu ishida!!

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: This was super fun to write omg! I love the fact Uryu can sew, it’s just such a cute extra little thing about him that makes me adore him even more than I already do<33 I’m certain that he’d be more than happy to show someone how to sew like he does…I’m definitely thinking of making a part 2 for this! It doesn’t feel incomplete however I have thoughts and concepts of other things to do when sewing w/ Uryu. Anyway, sorry for rambling, hope you all enjoy reading this ^_^

Uryu is incredibly skilled with sewing. This is a fact.

Like, let’s be real. He’s made people dresses, shirts, and repaired many items while adding his signature Quincy cross to all…

From repairing Kon and putting him in a frilly dress, to fixing up his friends’ clothes, there’s a lot he’s capable of when it comes to the wonderful world of textiles.

So teaching you how to sew is super easy. That is, if you’re willing to learn.

He’d guide you and help you learn the basics, starting with simple stiches.

If you mess up, it’s okay! He’s got everything you might need. You used the wrong thread colour? He’s got the correct one waiting for you. You screwed up your stitch and you need to start again? He’s got a seam ripper on hand!

As long as you’re not being purposefully or overly wasteful with his equipment he wouldn’t care in the slightest. If you were, he’d scold you very lightly.

If there’s something specific you want to make, like a small plushie, or a pillow, hell, even an item of clothing, he’ll help you do it!

I think he’s someone that takes pride in his skill, as well as the ability that he’s able to teach you this skill as well.

He’d find joy in teaching you sewing, it’s a hobby of his that he dearly enjoys, and sharing it with someone close to him is something that he’ll forever find comfort in.

The afternoon sun is warm and accommodating, and although it’s visible through your window, its rays don’t irritate you, or prevent you from eagerly looking at Uryu, whose focus is on preparing the activity you guys had been planning for…

It’d only started a couple days ago when you’d been waiting for Uryu to finish up at the handicrafts club. He’d been so focused while working on some embroidery at his desk, and you chuckled as you remember how he’d jumped for a split moment when you snuck up behind him.

“Please,” he’d let out a slightly shaky sigh, readjusting his glasses and delicately placing his needle and embroidery down before he’d turned to look at you. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“I didn’t think I’d actually make you jump, sorry…” you had trailed off, looking at his desk. Your eyes immediately begin to sparkle when you saw the gorgeous embroidery that he’d been working on prior to your arrival. It only took you one look at the ruby red thread and the the deep shades of green that accompanied it to recognise that he had been embroidering a rose- a gorgeous one at that. The flower had been embroidered so well, and it looked so full of life that just gazing at it had made you feel warm inside.

You had stopped, however, when you’d felt a finger prod at the side of your arm. You turned to see that Uryu had been looking at you, confusion written all over his face.

“Are you okay? You were zoning out,” he’d asked you.

“Ah- No! I was just really interested in the stuff you were sewing,” you stammered, fiddling with your hands. You’d felt your face heat up in pure embarrassment.

Uryu’s lips curved upwards and his eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yes, really! You’re so good at sewing, this looks so gorgeous! I wish I could make things like that,” you mused.

It hadn’t been the first time you’d seen Uryu sew: he had made and repaired tons of different items for all sorts of occasions.

But this was the first time you’d actively commented on wanting to learn something he excelled at, which ended up leading to now.

The two of you preparing to sew in the comforting place that was your bedroom— or rather, Uryu preparing to teach you some basic sewing.

“Some of the stuff involving sewing is quite easy,” Uryu mutters, giving you a basic rundown on what’s to come. His back is hunched and his legs are crossed as he finishes up organising all the equipment. It’s neatly arranged on the floor; it’s so typical of Uryu to sort things out in such a manner that it makes you smile. “It can get quite tricky, but it’s something we can work on together. Now come on, we don’t have all day.”

And so it begins.

You and Uryu are now sat facing eachother, the only thing between the two of you being the sewing equipment.

“We’ll start with some basic stitches,” Uryu declared. “Grab your needle, a some of the fabric, and you can pick your thread colour.”

You eagerly nod, doing what he says with haste. You’re thankful that Uryu had organised everything nicely. You picked out a fine needle, a small amount of the pre-cut white fabric, but you pause in wonder when you look at the bobbins of threads. There are so many colours, and your face morphs into multiple diverse expressions as your hand hesitantly bounces back and forth from each thread bobbin.

“What’s taking you so long?” Uryu questions, his equipment already in his hands.

“It’s just— I can’t— there are way too many pretty threads to use!” You whine, throwing your hands around.

“I only bought twelve.”

“Twelve too many!”

A quick sigh escapes leaves Uryu’s mouth, and though he seemed to be slightly agitated by the amount of time it was taking to get everything together, it was honestly the opposite.

Although you both had yet to start on the actual sewing, Uryu was simply happy to be able to teach you, and to his chagrin, he did actually find your indecisiveness quite adorable.

“Hurry up and pick.”

“Don’t rush me! This is your fault, you know.”

“How is it my fault-”

“You brought way too many colours along!”

Okay. You’d finally picked out a thread colour for yourself. Well actually— Uryu had, because in his words, you were “far too indecisive.”

…you did agree with that statement, but you’d die on the hill that it was his fault that you’d been that way. It’s not your fault there are way too many pretty colours to pick from! No way!

Anyway, you thought to yourself, it’s time to focus.

A fleeting grin graced Uryu’s lips for a split moment as he looked at you; so intent on learning, the determined look on your face providing him some sort of solace.

He wasn’t sure of what to make of it— it wasn’t like this feeling was foreign— heavens, no.

You’d shared countless amounts of sweet moments together, but to Uryu there was something so special, something brilliantly foreign about passing down one of his favourite pastimes to you, and it was then, the moment when he’d seen your evident determination and want to learn, that he promised to himself that he’d do his very best to teach you the art of sewing.

So he clears his throat, holding up his needle and thread. “We’ll start with a front stitch. First, you need to put your thread through your needle, then tie a knot at the end.

You follow his instruction with moderate ease, only slightly struggling when it comes to poking the thread through the tiny needle hole.

“That’ll act as an anchor, and stop your thread from slipping off when we get to sewing. Now, we’ll start with a straight stitch,”

He holds his fabric out so you can see it, and starts sewing at a much slower pace than what you’re used to seeing. He weaves his needle through the material with ease, and the feeling of your eyes focused on his actions has him swelling with pride.

There’s a low muttering that flows out of his mouth in rhythm with the bobbing of his hand. Up, down, up, down…

You were enjoying viewing this. Uryu looked incredibly relaxed, and with his expertise you found learning from him (both visually and verbally) to be very easy.

He quickly finished up, showing you the white fabric and the deep blue thread that presented his stitch, sewed in a perfectly neat and straight line

You were eager to work on yours, and work on it you did. It was quite easy: you followed Uryu’s previous actions and he watched.

“Up, down, up, down,” you repeated, slowly poking your needle through the fabric, then letting it dip and disappear again. You were admittedly slower with yours, but you liked the way it was turning out (despite the fact that it was a little wonky from how shaky your hand was while sewing) and when it was done, you showed Uryu, an accomplished look printed fiercely across your facial features.

He was looking over your stitching with a small smile on his face. He handed your fabric back to you, picking up his own to show you something new. He started sewing.

“Next, a backstitch. It’s a lot like a front stitch, but it doesn’t leave a gap between your stitches, see?” He showed you his unfinished stitch, which served as an example. “I start the stitch normally, then I go back, and continue again. You repeat those actions until you finish off the stitch.”

You nod, humming. “So it’s like going back and forth?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay then! Here goes…” your voice fades off as you begin to work on the stitch. It’s not as easy as last time— but it’s not painfully challenging either— it’s just right!

Back, forth, back, forth… are the only two words in your mind as you direct your focus back to the stitch. You finish it up, looking at your work with pride. Again, it’s a little wonky (with some of the stitches looking a little off,) but you’re satisfied with it regardless, and present it to the man in front of you. “What do you think, Uryu?”

“It looks great for a beginner. Some of the stitches are a little crooked, sure, but that can be fixed with more practice sessions.”

“More sessions ?” You echo, starry eyed.

“Of course- that is if you want to take part in more after this.”

“Of course! I’d really enjoy learning more with you Uryu. I’ve loved learning today so far, even though it hasn’t been much! You’re an incredible teacher, you make this sewing stuff super easy to understand and do! I want to make a pretty embroidered flower like you did the other day, so as long as you’re willing to teach me more…”

Uryu’s face gradually goes bright red the more you ramble, however, he’s still functioning well enough to give you a reply. “Yes! Of course! We’ve only learned a few basic stitches, however we can probably make a start on embroidery soon-”

“I’m glad! Anyway, what’s the next stitch?”

“It’s a blanket stitch. It’s a bit difficult, so do pay close attention. Now, you start by sewing closer to the edge of the fabric…”

[memo-blogs]

Wish

An Astarion x Tav (any gender) fic (wholesome/SFW) ((Also, contains spoilers for the game)) (((15th July, 2024 - updated cover art)))

As the warm glow of the fading sun caressed the sky, he awoke. Alone, again. Astarion trekked up to the first floor window and peeked outside at the fading sun, longing more than for its warming rays. He looked at the note he had been carrying in his pocket again. The messy familiar scrawlings of his darling.

"There's something I have to do. Please wait for me. -Tav"

It had been days. Where were they? Why wouldn't they take him with them? His mood darkening with the sky, Astarion turned away from the window of his humble abode with Tav.

Or well, maybe "humble" wasn't the right word. Fabulous, well and tastefully adorned, just as Astarion liked it. Tav had smiled that adoring smile of theirs as they let Astarion decorate their home. "You always did have excellent taste, love", Tav had said as they helped Astarion put everything just so. They had been all around the world, looking for just the right drapes, cutlery, carpets, paintings and so on. Their home had two floors and a surprisingly large basement. The days spent finding and putting together the place were mundane and domestic, but full of so much warmth and gentleness that Astarion let a sigh escape his lips as he descended back to the basement floor, painfully aware.

Aware that while the house was exactly how he'd like his home to be, and that while he was excited to actually have a place to call home, it was just a place without Tav. Astarion walked the corridors adorning their nest with knick-knacks and memoirs from their travels together, chuckling at the vibrating dog-collar found in the Underdark, realising that the most at home he'd ever felt was with Tav. He opened their bedroom door and winced at the empty bed. Somehow, even though he had room to roam, and the right to leave the house every night, the empty loneliness of their shared bedroom reminded him of the year he spent in a coffin in isolation as punishment from Cazador. He shuddered. His back ached with the memory of abuse. But he also remembered how softly Tav had wrapped their arms around him, promising never again would he be trapped. And so far, Tav had more than kept their word.

He sat down on their bed. His and Tav's. Astarion absent-mindedly caressed the bedsheets, lost in thoughts.

Where was Tav? What could take this long? Why not take him with them? After all they'd been through together, didn't they trust him? Or… Maybe Tav needed to do something in daylight. Astarion felt the pang of loss. While being tadpoled by an elder brain had been a horror, he had enjoyed the unexpected side-effect of being able to walk in the sun, and missed it dearly. Maybe it was his elf blood that made him ache for the sun. Ah, but to be a vampire, and to walk in the sun! That had been power. That had been the first taste of delicious freedom for him.

Astarion let his thoughts wander back to Cazador's ritual of ascension. Would have sacrificing all those souls really been worth not having to thirst and to be free to walk in the sun? Gods. There were moments where he genuinely thought he'd give anything for that. Fearful, painful moments. And he was so close to giving in to his panic to never be caged ever again.

But then, he recalled Tav's hand in his. Their smiling face. Their selfless bravery in battle, shielding him, always having his back. The way Tav looked at him, how, even if Astarion was just joking that he only wanted vain empty compliments, Tav's responses were always sincere and full of affection. The gentle way they made love. Something about the way Tav loved Astarion was so true, he couldn't deny it. It was in everything Tav did. It was in the way Tav opened up about being a Bhaalspawn, and fearing they'd hurt him. How they weren't afraid of losing power or control or murdering innocents in general - Tav was more scared and willing to give up the one thing they truly loved, if it meant keeping him safe. Him. Astarion. A measly vampire spawn who, in the grand scheme of things, should have meant nothing to someone like Tav. Yet they had died at Bhaal's altar, giving up all that power to be a decent, regular person, and to have a chance to love Astarion. For Tav, it had been more important to die wanting to be good and to love than to give up their soul to live powerful but practically in slavery. Thank the gods Withers had been there to raise Tav as a mortal, no longer tied to Bhaal. To give them and Astarion a chance to live.

Astarion lied down on the bed. Tav loved him enough to set him free. Tav didn't want to own or control him. They never had. They had always let Astarion make his own decisions. Stood by Astarion when he confronted Cazador. Never telling him what to do, but supporting him through it all. If he had ascended, he would have been lost forever. He would have gained power, but he would have lost himself, and become a beast beyond reckoning… Probably very much like Tav almost did, like their sister Orin had. Astarion had read up on vampire lords after, and realised part of the reason Cazador had been so cruel wasn't only that his master Vellion had been equally brutal to Cazador… But also because the one edge spawns had over full fledged vampires, was that they were still capable of love. Of feelings. Cazador had hated him with a passion, partly because he couldn't feel anything else.

And what if it hadn't been him to have been swept up in the mindflayer ship? What if it had been one of his vampire siblings? If the roles had been reversed, and he was still stuck with Cazador while his sibling dealt with the Netherbrain with Tav, he would have hoped to have been given a chance to live as well. He chuckled. Gods. All those spawn down in the Underdark, wreaking havoc. Ah, to be a spider on the ceiling!

Astarion stared at the ceiling of their bed. Mindflayers and vampire lords weren't that different beasts, after all. Soulless opportunists looking to drain whatever they found useful until it no longer wasn't. Astarion turned his head to look at the empty pillow beside him. The longing and uselessness he felt almost made him want to be some emotionless monster. He got up, frustrated.

He felt alone and oddly fragile. More so with each passing day Tav was absent. He trusted Tav. They said they'll be back. So they would be. But Astarion was worried. He walked to Tav's bedroom table and picked up the Sending Stone. He had picked it up and put it down many times as the days passed. He rolled it in his hands again, pondering who to message.

He finally gave the Stone a squeeze, activating it, and uttered: "Shadowheart love, sorry to bother you on a wonderful night such as this, but do you happen to know where Tav is?" The Stone flashed, letting him know the message was sent. He waited for a response.

None came. Odd. They weren't exactly the bestest of friends with Shadowheart, but she had always given some sort of reply when he had messaged her. Was she missing with Tav? Did they take Shadowheart with them wherever they went, but not him? What was going on? He thought of their old companions. Wyll and Karlach were still in the Hells, as far as he knew. Halsin was rebuilding the Shadowlands now that the shadows were no more. Jaheira was rebuilding Baldur's Gate. Lae'Zel was long gone fighting for the freedom of her people. He didn't dare to even think what Minsc was up to, or how he'd respond to any message, really. This didn't leave him many options on who to try next. He squeezed the Stone again, activating it.

"Gale - would you be a dear and let me know if you have any idea where Tav is?"

The response came in surprisingly quick this time. "Astarion! A little busy right now - ack!" The response cut out.

Astarion sat back down on the bed, Sending Stone in hand. So Shadowheart was unresponsive and Gale, professor of magic in Waterdeep, was clearly in some kind of battle - what were the odds these two events were unrelated? What was Tav up to that they had called on Shadowheart and Gale, but left him at home to worry? He stood up and paced. What was going on?

He heard a weary sigh in his ear. "Astarion." It was Gale. He was sending a message back. Astarion stopped to listen. "Terribly sorry not to respond. In a bit of a spot of bother. We're helping Tav… Retrieve an item, and it is proving rather tricky. Not to worry! Shadowheart has patched up the worst of Tav's injuries and we're nearly done here. We'll bring Tav home tomorrow night once we've all rested from today's activities."

"Tav is hurt?" Astarion found himself nearly shouting. He contained himself and poised his next words to be more his usual lax self. "Do make sure to tell them to not drag any blood on my Calimshite carpets when you return. They were very expensive. I suppose I'll have dinner waiting after sunset. You still drink wine, don't you Gale?"

Gale chuckled. "Tav says they wouldn't dream of dirtying your precious carpets. And a fine wine with some cheese sounds wonderful. See you tomorrow."

Astarion put the Stone back on Tav's table. Honestly he couldn't care less about the stupid carpets or even this entire house - he just wanted Tav back safe and sound. Tav getting injured worried him, as he knew how annoyingly self-sacrificing they could be. Didn't they agree to look after themselves first after the whole mess with the Netherbrain? What was Tav thinking?

Astarion walked upstairs and put on a coat. He needed the air to calm his nerves, and a meal to quench his thirst. Plus, now he'd have to prepare dinner for at least three since Tav was coming home with an entourage. He thought back to where Tav placed the recipe for that strange sauce Gale kept harping on about, and with a put upon sigh determined to make his best effort to make the stupid thing. Tav would be happy if he tried to be kind to their friends. And if they brought Tav back to him alive, maybe slaving over a meal wasn't such a big thing.

The next sunset, Astarion felt a little pathetic, sitting by their door waiting. But he couldn't help it. He was anxious to see what Tav had gone out to retrieve that was apparently worth dying over. And mostly, just to see his beloved idiot again. It had been horribly lonely and empty without Tav. And honestly, just mind-numbingly boring. He had started preparing dinner early as he couldn't really sleep the day, waiting. It was simmering on their stove. He had gone a bit overboard with setting the table as well, picking out Tav's favourite flowers and bringing out their best cutlery for their friends.

Astarion gingerly stole a glance at the last rays of the sun diving underneath the horizon, and as soon as they disappeared, a teleportation circle promptly manifested in their yard. As expected, Gale walked out, looking behind him as if encouraging whomever was behind him to follow. Out came Shadowheart and surprisingly, Jaheira, supporting a limping Tav between them. As soon as they were through, Gale shut the portal behind them.

Astarion couldn't contain himself. He flung the door open and ran to hold Tav. He held them hard, as if afraid Tav would vanish if he let go. For a small moment, he was lost in Tav's familiar scent. The one he had come to associate with being loved and being home, and he managed to hold back his tears on how good it felt to have Tav near him again. Tav gently kissed Astarion on his head, laying their head on his. "Hello, darling. Miss me?"

Astarion suddenly felt acutely aware they weren't alone and broke off their embrace. He tried to ignore Jaheira's knowing smirk and Shadowheart's little smile as he turned to face the latter. "I thought Gale said you'd patch my precious knucklehead before sending them home. Why are they still injured?"

Tav looked embarrassed. "Well, uh-" They were cut off by Jaheira. "Because we only have so many healing spells to spare a day, spawn, and we did as much as we could after a night's rest for the reckless cub, Shadowheart and I." Jaheira smacked Tav on the shoulder, as if to reprimand them for needing healing in the first place. Astarion's eyes widened in shock. "How hurt were you?"

"Exhaustingly so." Shadowheart sighed. "For a moment there, I wasn't sure Tav was still among the living, or that we could even bring them back, but we did, thank Selûne."

"Aye, burnt to a crisp by that one trap we missed. Shame the temple was filled with so much undead-repelling magics that we couldn't risk bringing our favourite vampire spawn in there to check for all of them, but we managed."

Everyone stopped when they noticed how quiet Astarion got. There was an awkward silence that hung among the group, as everyone realised even without tadpoles to connect them that Astarion was not okay with the news given. Tav looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you to come along. I know you would have come even if I didn't ask if I said I was going. But, there is a reason for this." Tav signaled for Shadowheart and Jaheira to release them, and stood up on their own feet.

Astarion sighed. "Just don't do it again. Now, I've made enough dinner for all of you, and there are guest bedrooms upstairs if you want to stay the night. You can tell me all about it over dinner." Astarion walked up to Tav, offering them a hand to lean on as he led them home. Their friends smiled and walked behind them, grateful for the offer of a hearth, a meal and a warm home.

Tav whispered in his ear. "Just like that? You forgive me for taking off without you?" Astarion gave their arm a gentle squeeze. "Yes love. I said I trust you, and despite all the evidence to the contrary, I still do." They walked together into their home with their friends. "But please don't leave me alone like this again. I don't like being alone with my thoughts for so long." Tav kissed his pale cheek. "I promise. This was the last escapade I'll ever do without your blessing."

As they sat down for dinner Jaheira laughed. "Astarion, seems I have misjudged you yet again. Not only was I right in mistaking you for a good man, now I am beginning to believe I might mistake you for a great husband. This is a beautiful setup!"

"Oh hush, you old crone. It's just dinner among friends", Astarion quipped back, smiling despite himself.

Gale sniffed the air as he sat down. "Is that Hundur sauce I smell?" He took a small dab of sauce on his spoon and tasted it. "By Mystra, you even got the flavours just right! Astarion! I didn't know you had the makings of a cook."

"There are many things you don't know about me, darling."

Shadowheart piped in while breaking bread for herself. "Indeed - I for one, am having a hard time telling which one of you loves the other more, you or Tav. Especially after this stunt we helped them pull. It'd be disgusting if you two weren't so adorable together… What isn't a mystery though, is who decorated your house. Really, Astarion?"

"You're just jealous you don't have my sense of style, love."

They all smirked, Tav smiling the biggest of them all. "Thank you, everyone. For being here. For you three for helping me with this… We can talk about what we did, but I'd like to tell Astarion in private what we got out of it, if that's okay. And… Just, you are all my family and I love you all very much. I am honoured to be among such amazing friends, and could not ask for better ones. If you ever need anything, anything at all, call and you know I will be there."

A choked silence hung among them, as no one really knew what to add to such heartfelt words of affection. Astarion smiled. Tav was one-of-a-kind. And all his. Jaheira turned her head to wipe a tear. Shadowheart smiled. Gale cleared his throat. "Well, let's not waste our gracious chef's efforts by letting this feast go cold. Shall we?"

They ate together as mostly Gale and Shadowheart regaled them with the story of how they had found a long-abandoned temple of Lathander, and plunged into it's surprisingly sunny depths, with occasional snarky remarks from the wizened Jaheira of all the blunders they made along the way. Tav focused on the meal, following along the story, nodding in places in agreement on the retelling of their past few days, and laughing at everyone's quips and remarks on their mishaps while at it. Astarion wondered what was worth this much trouble. The Blood of Lathander was still with Shadowheart. What more could the sun god offer that was worth the risk? He also noted that Tav seemed oddly nervous, and avoided his gaze throughout the dinner, shyly blushing into their dinner whenever their eyes did meet. Astarion found himself anxious as well, every now and then letting his foot tap under the table before he caught himself, and composed himself once more.

Eventually dinner came to a close, and they saw their guests to bed. Shadowheart promised to finish healing up Tav as soon as she woke up and before Gale teleported them all back home. They wished their friends a good night.

Astarion gently helped Tav down into their basement bedroom, and then to take off their armour and clothes. Dawn was already approaching, which was their bedtime, as Tav had adopted Astarion's nocturnal schedule with ease. He noted the bruising, the burns, the barely closed wounds from the battles Tav had recently fought without him while undressing them. He got lost in softly caressing Tav's battered body, until Tav's hand found his, and gently held it. Astarion looked into Tav's eyes. "Alright. We're alone now - could you please tell me what was worth nearly killing yourself over, again? The suspense is killing me, darling."

Tav looked at their knees, searching for their words. "You know how you showed me your grave stone", they started.

"Of course love, how could I forget? We made such excellent love on top of it that night. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate my rebirth at the time", Astarion shot back with a devilish grin. "I fail to see how my faded grave stone has anything to do with your little adventure", he added.

"Well that's just it - your grave was so faded, we couldn't make out the day you died. Or the day you were born. And you still can't remember, right?"

"Well no, I can't and honestly, I don't really care to. That person is long gone and can stay that way for all I care. Why does it matter?"

Tav played with their hands in their lap. "Today's a year from the day we first met. I was afraid I wouldn't make it back on time, but I did." Tav used the bed post to stand up, and limped to their satchel. They took out an unassuming scroll case. "I figured, today could be both yours and my birthday. Since I can't remember my birthday either. It could be our anniversary. A day of celebration. Our day. And I went out and got the one thing I really, truly want to give you above all... I've been plotting ways to find one for some time now." Tav limped in front of Astarion and painfully but meticulously got on one knee. Astarion could feel his cheeks getting hot - a feeling he wasn't sure he was even capable of anymore, being undead and all.

Tav presented the scroll case to him. "The temple of the sun god had been rumoured to contain a Wish spell. I risked everything to find out if the rumour was true, and it was. With this scroll, anyone can wish for anything; once." Tav placed the scroll into Astarion's hands.

"I know how much you loved walking in the sun, Astarion. Your life was taken from you. Your freedom. Even the sun was stolen from you. I give you this scroll, so that you can wish for anything. You can wish to ascend without sacrificing all those spawn, you can wish to be rid of your vampiric curse, you could wish to rule the world - anything you want." Tav gently squeezed Astarion's hands, holding the scroll case, and looked up at him with their piercing eyes. "I love you, Astarion. And I always will. I give you ultimate freedom to choose anything you want, anything at all."

For a moment, it felt as if time stood still as Astarion fully absorbed what Tav just said. What they were offering him. Suddenly, he couldn't help but cry. He threw the scroll case into a corner of the room and knelt down to hold his precious Tav as close as he could. How had he gotten so lucky? After centuries of misery, how was he here, now, with this amazing creature? He kissed them deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his overwhelming affection and gratitude in one, two, no; dozens of kisses and caresses. He didn't care he was still crying. He didn't care if he seemed insane. He just wanted to feel Tav, and never let go. To tell them without words Tav meant more to him than anything they could ever bring home.

After awhile, he stopped and they leaned their foreheads together, holding hands. Astarion noticed Tav was crying too, but Tav gave him a little smile nonetheless. There was an unanswered question in Tav's eyes -

What did Astarion want to Wish for?

Astarion kissed Tav on the forehead once more. "You are a reckless idiot." He got up and picked up the scroll case, and took out the scroll. Such a mundane looking piece of paper, to give out a moment of godlike powers to mere mortals. He played with it as if it was nothing. Tav smirked. "I know. So love, what are you going to use it for?"

Astarion grinned back at Tav. "Oh, I don't know. World domination does sound like an awful lot of work, doesn't it? And I have never heard of a happy vampire lord, now that I think of it. Powerful, to be sure - but not happy."

"I could wish for a sea of puppy dogs and kittens for you", Astarion joked. Tav laughed. "I got the scroll for you, smooth brain. I already have everything I need - what I want, is you to be free, in whatever way you want to be free." Tav dropped their joking demeanor and picked up their surprisingly disarming sincerity. "With or without me, I want you to be happy. You helped me find freedom and regain myself and my life back. Without you, I'd still be a slave to Bhaal's endless fervour to murder, or a mindflayer. You believed in me when no one else did, and supported me through bouts of madness. I owe my life to you… So I want you to choose yours. And whatever you choose, know I'll always love you for carrying me through my darkest days."

Astarion looked at Tav. He didn't need to connect through the no-longer-present tadpole to know they meant every word. He looked down at the scroll of Wish in his hands. He could be anyone. He could do anything. He could be the most powerful, influential and beloved man in all of Faerûn - all he had to do was say the words.

The scroll knew he meant to make his Wish. It glowed in anticipation. He smiled at Tav. "I wish to be cured of vampirism and to be an elf that's capable of walking in the sun with his beloved."

[koiiiso]

An Understanding,

Characters: Maddie, Ambessa, Caitlyn,

Summary: Maddie was a loyal person, someone who only had the best interests of her people at heart. When appreciation for her falls and someone on the opposing side praises her, loves her, something she has yearned for every passing moment, she caves.

Tags: @kings-paintbrush

Proofread: Yes/No

Warnings: Manipulation, Swearing, Violence.

A/N: SHE DESERVED AN ARC SJDJDKDKDN

Throughout a life, there are obstacles, whether that be harsh or gentle, there are obstacles. For Maddie, her whole life was an obstacle. Her dad died when she was young, raised by a mourning mother who pushed his legacy upon her.

Guilt overcame and overwhelmed her. Her mother was a good woman, one who deserved to be provided for. Every slap, every harsh word, every single moment of hatred enforced upon her from her mother was met with gentle silence.

Maddie likes to think of herself as a good daughter, a provider. She was made to be a good one after all. If disappointment overcame her mother, a punishment would follow. Yet these punishments seemed better than the times she was left alone, locked away.

Ultimately, this mother of hers, one she held dearly, did not hold Maddie within the same regard, but that’s life. Well it was until she fell sick. Then praise were the words she muttered instead of complaints.

Then her mother died, buried next to her father. Fresh flowers always placed on the graves of her parents, a symbol of gratitude for a childhood, harsh or not. She’s just grateful to have one.

There were three rules she had set for herself as a way to cope with the loss. Be kind, comfort when needed, and do what is necessary for change when things go wrong, not matter the situation.

She prided herself on her loyalty to these rules, even when her training clashed with her own morals, morals she was raised with, she made the rules come first.

Which allowed this situation to be different. Much different.

It started with Caitlyn.

She was the woman Maddie looked up to.

Caitlyn Kiramman, the perfect enforcer.

The pair became friends rather quickly during Maddie’s academic days, when Caitlyn was a Senior and she was a Freshman.

Maddie was a good friend, that she knew, always offering comfort to the other girl when things spiraled.

Then the council was attacked.

Caitlyn changed.

Maddie didn’t.

She was still the same girl who offered comfort, yet now she was granted with a cold shoulder from someone she considered close. Still, she didn’t relent.

Their relationship spiraled.

Maddie originally did not want to have relations with Caitlyn, in all honesty she just wanted to help. She still remembers those words she spoke to Caitlyn after the first time it happened. How she attempted to convince her to get out of the situation Ambessa was intergrading them into. She still remembers her own words.

“Let me guess, complaints about the Noxians?”

She spoke, trying to figure out what was keeping Caitlyn awake.

“They doubled their fortification requests. Again. To keep-“

Caitlyn spoke, only to get interrupted by Maddie.

“Keep us safe.”

The sigh escaping Caitlyn’s lips signaled the girl was correct.

“I never expected this to go on so long. I thought..”

A pause.

“I don’t know what I thought. Just..”

Another.

“It wasn’t this.”

There is was.

“You could call it off. Withdraw from the underground. Reestablish the Council. All you have to do is give the order,”

Maddie attempted, her words genuine as she spoke of her ideas.

“Not without Jinx.”

Another one. Another damn silence overtaking the pair.

“Besides, a withdrawal could lead to a worse situation than the one—“

Excuses. Always a damn excuse.

“Ah. Okay, Ambessa,”

It was a tease, and another silence came.

“She delivered us Zaun, as she vowed. Without her, who knows how many Enforces we’d have lost? I’ve learned so much from her.”

Learned hatred, learned how to hurt people.

“You’re our leader. The Enforcers, Piltover, they follow you,”

Another small pause came. Maddie lifts Caitlyn’s chin up, making the woman peer at herself. A sigh exits Caitlyn’s lips, rosy, plump, and soft, unlike the harsh words she has spoken.

“I follow you.”

And her words were true, until they weren’t.

When Maddie’s beliefs shifted and her faith in this war swamped by a makeshift army of innocents, she knew that Piltover had lost itself. To win a war you need a proper plan, proper soldiers, and absolute unwavering commitment. Including innocents was never a good idea within war.

Maddie had long since knew of war. She oftentimes was locked in her room without anything but a bed and some books. Books on enforcement, war, and most importantly, lethality.

They needed an upper hand, and what greater upper hand than assassinating the leader of the enemy.

She knew her plan was likely to fail, but it would have two different outcomes yet both were equally effective.

The first would be her success within her endeavors of killing Ambessa. The leader of the opposition would be dead, leaving the Noxian army without a leader and a warlord to dictate their opinions and fate.

The second one would be that she stirred fear in Ambessa. The plan was simple. Attempt to kill the woman, make her fearful, sloppy. Maddie’s death would be likely, yet she was uncaring. She would rather die knowing she properly put fear in that woman.

Yet she didn’t plan on a third option. The third outcome that was occurring as of now.

As of now, she was tied up, on her knees beside the chair in which the war lord sat, her scarred hands nursing a goblet of wine.

“I’m impressed, child. You nearly succeeded within that assassination attempt,” Ambessa murmured the praise, her empty hand reaching out and lifting Maddie’s chin with a gentle, almost maternal way that seemed incapable with the strong hands that have signed off deaths of thousands, millions even.

“You would make a good warrior within my league. You never appeared to be that of the type for silence within captivity. You also never appeared to be the type for violence as well. I suppose looks can be deceiving,” Ambessa continued, her gentle touch, the tone of her voice, it was something Maddie craved, something she yearned for. How easy could she cave for something so foreign yet so wanted.

And so, the days passed within this routine. The gentle touches, the praises she yearned for, the motherly tone she used. It overwhelmed her until she caved.

Loyalty shouldn’t be something so easily earned, yet it seemed so little to give compared to the warmth provided by the war lord, warmth that never existed until her.

With Caitlyn, she felt warm with the gentle touches of her delicate fingers, or the praises sung from those lips when she did something right. Yet she felt so cold as well.

With her mother, she yearned for her love, yet never received it. The only physical affection or touch provided by her elder was that of which inflicted pain. It was cold.

With her father she felt warm, and in his absence she felt cold. He was the rock keeping her mother together. He kept her safe, yet he’s gone forevermore.

Yet, with Ambessa. It was as if the woman was that of a mother she was never given.

It took two weeks for Maddie to cave. Usually in these situations, torture was more common amongst those for assassination attempts. For her however, it was even more unbearable than torture. It was the overbearing warmth given by Ambessa that made her want to either perish or give in.

She couldn’t take her own life right next to the woman, kept far away from sharp objects or anything lethal, for both her own safety and the war lord’s. So she ultimately caved.

Now she was that of a mole, giving the Noxian’s information in exchange for that one chance of motherly love, of that warmth. She knows she’s selfish for this yet she can’t help but yearn to be selfish.

Now she’s a traitor.

And now she is about to pull the trigger on an old friend.

Maddie held no grievance against Caitlyn, or Piltover as a whole. She just wanted to feel loved for once.

Yet she wasn’t loved, she knew that. She knew she wasn’t capable of being such a thing.

“I did appreciate your warmth..”

When the bullet of the gun went to hit Caitlyn, to kill her, the force field flashed. The bullet bounced off the magical force.

Maddie Nolen died that day. She knew she was never loved within her life. Perhaps she was a tragedy, perhaps she was never meant to be loved.

She was mourned, barely though, as no one can truly mourn the wicked, even if she was never rotten.

She was buried next to her father.

The flowers were no longer fresh anymore. They were wilted, depressing, and dead forevermore.

[severinageto]

No more goodbyes (or rest in peace, Gojo Satoru) ————— drabble (word count: 849)

Satoru could not precisely measure how much time had passed without him, but he was acutely aware of how he felt. He recalled him as young and vibrant, or as an adult nursing a hangover, yet always moving his lips gracefully, gently—as though he were doing the world a favor simply by existing—while he spoke of the universe and its eons.

“Come on, I’ve told you, Satoru. An eon. A period of time spanning hundreds of millions, even billions of years. In geology, it’s used to…”

But as he crossed the threshold, Satoru could no longer remember its geological significance; all he grasped was the feeling that it measured the exact duration of their separation. To a mere mortal, it was just years, but a mere mortal could never comprehend, nor even begin to discern the void his absence had carved into his chest.

Ah, but it was all over now. He was already with the others, laughing in the terminal. His heart had ceased to beat, his lungs had stopped drawing in air, and his blood no longer flowed. He shouldn’t have felt anything, except perhaps tranquility.

Yet, as quickly as they had come, they vanished. Satoru found himself alone in a long boarding area.

The dreadful void had returned.

Why couldn’t they let him rest?

He hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

Amid the roar of engines and the scent of kerosene, he walked through the vast, white horizon toward an eternal north, sensing an unseen force pulling him forward. His feet trudged heavily, one after the other, leaving him unable to distinguish whether it was hours or days. All he knew was that there existed the tiniest, most infinitesimal chance of returning, and that was why he couldn’t look back.

Apparently, they needed him.

Burdened by the loss of that fleeting moment of solace shared with his friends and his beloved, he halted just before boarding. A revelation, one of those insights that fortunate souls encounter in their darkest hours, dawned upon him: he owed nothing to anyone. He had given them all he could. His mind, his body, his life.

No. He would not surrender his soul.

Resolute, he dashed through the space, his gaze forever fixed upon the vault of the heavens. Acrux, the brightest star of all, pointed him toward the direction he was meant to follow, the path he had always intended to take.

And then, he saw him again. Suguru was there, leaning against a nonexistent column, wearing that serene smile he had so dearly missed.

No longer at the airport, but at the station. Of course. His beloved Aquarian was a creature of trains.

“Ah, you’re late,” Suguru remarked, arms crossed beneath his ornate monk robes, feigning annoyance. “Again.”

A soft laugh escaped Satoru, relief flooding through him. That was the voice, the tone he had longed to hear for so long. Just his. Not Nanami’s, not Haibara’s, much less Masamichi’s. The crystalline, delicate notes that only Suguru could produce were the only sounds he wished to hear in that dimension. Even when he scolded him. In truth, he could listen to those reprimands for all eternity.

“I was busy, you know, saving the world… once again,” Satoru shrugged, ambling toward him with slow steps.

“You mean ‘attempting’ to save the world.”

“You say tomatoes, I say potatoes…” Satoru replied, playing with his haori.

Suguru bestowed upon him a tender smile. He had known his lover’s fate the moment he arrived in that place. That was why he had waited and waited, for the cruelty that the cards foretold for the one he had loved most had to be countered with his greetings and embraces. It could be no other way. Just as he was born to accompany him, so too had he died to wait for him.

When they were close enough, Satoru extended a hand, almost as if fearing this might all be a new illusion. But when his fingers brushed against Suguru’s warm skin, the pain he had carried for so long dissipated. He was there, real, tangible. His long hair, his weary yet sensual eyes, his smooth skin, his leader’s attire. As magnificent as the day he had seen him depart.

“No more goodbyes, right?” Suguru murmured, taking Satoru’s hand.

“No more goodbyes,” Satoru echoed, smiling as he pulled him closer.

The void was supplanted by a peace he had never known. He understood it existed; he had read about it, heard whispers of it, even believed he had sensed it at some point in his life. But no. He had never truly experienced what it was to embrace Suguru without the fear of having his most cherished desire snatched away. What it was, after all, love in its purest form.

A train halted beside them. Suguru climbed aboard and offered his hand.

“To the south?” he inquired, smiling with his feline eyes.

“To the south,” Satoru replied, his smile the most genuine, the grandest, the brightest he had ever offered in life.

A smile that only true peace could bring forth.

————————— image by https://x.com/nejmai2?s=21

[din-skywalker]

Motorcycle Love

Tags: Zayne, Zayne/MC, MC, Fluff, Cute, Tooth Rotting Fluff

Rating: General Audience

Summary:

Zayne has been at the hospital for nearly twelve hours straight at this rate. He's dearly missing his love, so what he sees outside is truly a surprise.

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63253189

A/N:

i saw some fanart and i had to write something based on it lol

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOURE A MINOR.

thanks

Zayne has been at the hospital for nearly twelve hours now, and he’s exhausted. He's had to perform three surgeries in a row, each taking almost four hours each. He barely had time to rest or to even eat, and so he’s both worn down and starving. He's chewing on a piece of beef jerky now, the dried, salty meat barely doing anything to soothe his aching stomach, but proving needed protein after being on his feet for hours on end.

Greyson is sitting across his desk from him, his face planted directly on top of its surface. He'd been with Zayne nearly the entire time, backing him up as his extra set of hands.

“We’re finally done,” Greyson says. Zayne glances down at him, munching down on another slice of jerky. He really wants sweets right now, but he knows he needs the protein. Besides, he’d run out of his chocolates throughout the shift; he’d sneak a handful of chocolates in between surgeries, needing some kind of pick me up. “Finally…”

He doesn't say anything in response to Greyson when his phone vibrates. With one hand, he pulls it from his pocket, holding it up to see the screen. Ah, Evie had texted him. He opens the messages, reading them over:

Evie, Holder of My Heart💙💙💙: hhhheeeyyyyy! you outta your last surgery yet?

Me: Yes, dear. Thank you for checking in. I'll be heading home soon.

Evie, Holder of My Heart💙💙💙: okie :3

He can't help but smile at the screen. He always loves to see the contact name she’d put in herself the time she’d stolen his phone. Originally, it had just been her name, but she didn't like that. So she had snatched his phone away and changed it to the one above. He finds it adorable, so he has yet to change it, if he ever will. He recalls the conversation they'd had when she had first changed it:

“‘Evie, Holder of My Heart’?” Zayne read aloud, quirking a single eyebrow in her direction. She was sitting across from him on the same couch, her calves bent under her, her hands in her lap. She grinned at him cutely.

“Well of course,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “You're a heart doctor, right?”

His eyebrow raised further, not following her line of thought. “Right.”

“You're always holding other people’s hearts,” she said pointedly, leaning closer to him. She leaned until their faces were a few inches apart, making his breath catch. “You need someone to hold yours.”

That made his mind go blank, his cheeks filling with heat. Flower petals fluttered in his gut, and he found himself sputtering with surprise. How does she always catch him by surprise? No one else ever can. “Ah,” he said, dumbly.

Her grin widened, and she pressed her lips to the corner of his, rubbing her thumb and forefinger against the shell of his surely red ear. Her laughter filled the air, only making him feel hotter.

Normally, Evie is horrible about remembering to text, but she had kept in mind the estimated time his final surgery would be finished. She’s terribly forgetful, so the fact she’d taken the time to remember when he got off warms his heart to no end. He smiles at his phone lightly, slowly chewing on the beef jerky in his mouth.

Greyson laughs lightly. “Get a text from Eve?” he asks teasingly. Zayne throws him a half-hearted glare and pushes up from his seat once he's finished his jerky. “Oh come on, Doctor Zayne, no need to get grumpy!”

“I am not grumpy,” Zayne replies coolly. “I am simply leaving for the day. I suggest you do the same. Goodbye, Doctor Greyson.”

As he walks towards the door to his office, he takes just a moment to slip out of his doctor’s coat. He hangs it on a hook situated behind the door, and then steps outside. He heads for the lobby, where Yvonne is staring out of the front doors curiously.

She looks across at him as he approaches, a bright smile lighting up her face. “I think your ride is here, Doctor Zayne,” she says, pointing towards the glass doors. Zayne pauses, his brows furrowing. Of course it is, he drives himself. But when he follows her pointed finger, she spots a familiar, black motorcycle parked out front, with a familiar woman leaning against it, waiting patiently. His eyes widen, and he has to tighten his jaws to keep his mouth from dropping open.

No… that can't be her.

But as he excuses himself, walking closer to the doors, it certainly is.

Evie is waiting for him with her motorcycle, dressed in a leather jacket and black pants. She leaned against it heavily, arms crossed over her chest. She’s tapping a foot idly, looking up at the sky as if she’s watching the clouds pass overhead with all the focus in the world. Her helmet is resting on the back of the cycle, bumped and roughed up. Her long hair falls around her shoulders, holding a slight wave after being stuffed in the helmet for so long. Her jacket has skid marks on it from her times falling off of her cycle in situations where she had to face Wanderers, getting knocked off when one or two would get too close.

Some of Zayne's coworkers have stopped to gawk at the sleek looking motorcycle and its rough and tough looking owner. She looks down when she sees him pushing out of the hospital, her eyes brightening at the sight of him. She pushes up straight, waving at him excitedly, innocently. As if she isn't causing a scene right now.

“Doctor Zayne!” she says brightly. His coworkers turn to look at the flustered doctor. They never would have thought a biker would be here to pick him up. He's always seemed so tight and pristine. Who would have thought he’d break that pristineness for a biker? “I'm here to pick you up! I haven't seen you in hours!”

He slowly approaches her, keeping his head high despite the heat gathering in his face and gut. He’s not embarrassed per say- he would never be embarrassed of Evie. But he is, however, highly flustered by the fact she’s come to pick him up. Oh, and look- she brought him flowers. His shoulders hunch as he lowers her head when she tugs on his tie, obediently bringing his face to be leveled with hers. She presses a kiss to his cheek, momentarily wrapping her arms around his neck to embrace him.

“I missed you,” she whispers into his ear. It burns as her hot breath brushes against it.

“I missed you, too,” he says, remembering how to speak. She presses another kiss to his cheek, and then pulls back with a cheeky grin.

“I bought you some sweets,” she says. She pulls the seat of her motorcycle up, revealing the compartment underneath. There are two boxes of his favorite chocolates, and a box of macarons he hasn't tried yet. His heart melts all over for her, and he reaches out to grab one. She snorts and smacks his hand away. “I already texted Greyson. He said you've been eating sweets all day. You can have some tomorrow.”

“That traitor,” Zayne says snidely. She giggles, the sound like beautiful bells to his ears. “Why were you texting him?”

“To check on you,” she replies sweetly. She closes the seat once more, and swings her leg over the side of it. “You lock in on busy days like this, so I try not to bother you. But Greyson is my eye on the inside- he always responds when he can.”

“I feel as if I have two traitors now,” Zayne remarks. He hesitates when she pats the spot behind her- while he appreciates this, his car is still here, and she can be a little… rough when driving. She looks up at him through wide, sparkling eyes, and he quickly loses his internal battle. He lets out a sigh, handing her her helmet before he sits behind her. He places his hands on her hips, leaning forward until his chest rests on her back. He can feel the hard muscle through her shirt and skin, honed from her training and battles with Wanderers. Just feeling them makes him flush all over again, and he buries his face in her hair to hide it from any passerby. He’s an esteemed doctor, dammit. He doesn't need to be blushing like a little school boy.

But he can't help the flush on his face. He can feel the dips of her curves and the tough sinew of her muscles. She could flip him over her head with no problem, and probably straddle him, too. The thought of it has the flower petals in his guts blowing around like a blizzard, making him squirm a little.

“Don't be so grumpy, Doctor Zayne,” she says, clicking her tongue. She reaches around herself, placing the helmet over his head. “And wear this. You're the passenger.”

“What about you?” he asks, his voice muffled through the plastic and glass. She hums thoughtfully, flicking the motorcycle on. He can feel the way her muscles stretch as she kicks the motorcycle to life, her leg moving to hook on the side of it.

“I'll be fine,” she says lightly. “Now hold on tight. We’ve got a movie to catch!”

“Wait- we do-?”

Before he can even finish, they're already pelting down the street, dust kicked up behind them as the wheels screech against pavement. He holds onto her tighter, eyes closing instinctively.

She really had planned this out.

And he has to admit it- he doesn't mind it one bit.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc, anthony bridgerton x ofc (platonic)

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she love her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

ii. two: you felt so happy

the first ball, certainly one of the highlights of the season. it is indeed as grand as people have talked about. the lights, the decorations, the flowers, the performances—they were perfect. on top of that, loraine is a night person, which is why the ton should prepare for a doubled exuberance.

arriving a bit late than most other families who were so eager to catch a match for their offsprings, the silvas entered the hall together as raine compliments with awe.

"lady danbury's balls are always extraordinary, truly worthy of hosting the first of every season."

armand turned to her with an incredulous look, "agatha does not have balls."

she deadpanned at her father and discreetly whisper-yelled, "oh, heavens! stop trying to get us beheaded all the time!"

"it do makes me wonder why i haven't told the queen to behead you yet, armand." the host's voice engulfed them from behind. they both turned to her with a sheepish grin.

"lady danbury, it's a wonderful... ball." raine applaused after letting go of her father, "i must go and greet the queen."

she walked straight away, looking at armand one last time as she put both her fists up in shoulder level as if to cheer him on. the man could do nothing but offer a death smile to his daughter.

as rebellious as she is, raine is still of noble and respectful upbringing. we will not reveal that she did think twice if she should greet the queen or she can just go straight to the drinks. she did end up choosing to greet her. that is what matters, right?

and so she bowed gracefully to her. duty done. as she stood back up, with an utter pretentious smile, she was more than excited to make her way to the beverages.

"loraine," the queen called with familiarity and her steps halted, turning to her majesty once again. ah, so she's speaking as a family friend and not the queen.

"whatever is that sparkling on your leg?"

raine was confused for a moment, before she remembered what she could have possibly put their that was shiny. she turned back to her with a mischievous smirk.

"just an accessory, aunt lottie. it's a must-have."

she replied with full confidence, despite the fact that it is quite clearly shaped like a dagger. of course, it is an accessory. it can be considered as one, moreso that it is quite strapped on her.

she smiled dearly once again before curtsying to leave. as she was out on earshot, the queen turned to brimsley.

"i wish i had done that when i was young."

now that all is done, she cannot wait to taste what kind of drinks they serve during balls as she eagerly continues on her path to the beverages. she swiftly took a glass and sipped it with delight.

"you took the wrong glass. lemonade is here."

her eyes narrowed at that, hinting the arrival of a not-so-welcomed presence. the viscount bridgerton, with his wife and younger brother, joined her after spotting the young lady across the room.

"i can outdrink you."

"i'd like to see you try." kate slapped her husband's arm at the unnecessary challenge. kate is reasonably competitive. anthony? he's the most competitive at wrong times.

raine smirked at kate as the latter winked at her. she turns to the viscount, "i did not take you as someone who loves balls."

before he could answer, benedict interjected after taking a glass of his own, "he has two of them."

the eldest closed his eyes and sighed at the immature comment, "say that in front of her father if you think it's funny."

"oh, please don't. they'll both laugh for hours." she shuddered at the thought, just as the current dance ended.

anthony finished his glass as he looked at his wife for a while before turning to the two, "well, excuse us. i must take my wife to the dance floor."

he lead her to the dance floor without even waiting for their reply. raine scrunched her nose as benedict continues to sip on his own, leaning on the standing round table.

"anthony dances in these events?"

"only since last year, when he decided to actively participate in balls."

she immediately turned to him, mirroring the incredulous look her father had earlier, "why are you saying it like that?"

"why am i saying what like?" benedict turned to her as well, tilting his head and propping it on his palm.

"stop."

"balls?"

raine gave out a grumble, turning her attention back to her drink as the bridgerton laughed at her reaction. they both observed the ball with a comforting silence before benedict saw an interesting sight.

"your father is laughing. i must say, lord silva is really paradoxical."

her brow raised at the mention, "he always does. he just hates you, and don't say that word to him. he'll think it's a compliment."

"it is a compliment."

"it's not."

"wait, lord silva hates me?" upon realising the previous statement, he straightened his back.

the girl simply nodded as a grin made its way on her lips, "he thinks you put a love curse on me."

he dramatically placed a hand on his chest, "you are more likely to do that to me than i to you."

"you know me so well." she laughed as she raised her glass to him which he followed. upon the cue of the music ending once again, he gulped his drink, moving to her other side.

"i do hope you have not given away your very first dance to some other man."

she screamed, internally screamed, and she could almost not hold the grin that was aching to escape her lips, "hm? what ever do you mean to say?"

benedict chuckled, completely seeing through her. he moved to block her view of the dance floor, his left hand manly placed on the lumbar of his back as he offered the other in between them.

"loraine silva, may i be your first dance?"

she beamed at him, drinking the rest of her glass at once as she placed her own hand at the care of his.

"i thought you'd never ask."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

raine, as talkative as she is, could not find the confidence to do so at the moment. all she could think of was his hands, smell, and body. yes, she grew up with them, but she had never danced with this man in front of her before.

anthony, yes, when he did a poor attempt to cheer her up—which ended up successful because he looked ridiculous. colin, yes, when he offered to be her dance partner as she was practicing after classes. but benedict? she has never even saw the man dance.

so, currently in their second dance, she finally found her voice, "can i just say, i feel so happy i could die."

he laughed as he twirled her, "you have said that a thousand times before."

"genuinely this time." raine intimately uttered as she looked at him in the eye.

"also," she added, continuing with a charming smirk after another twirl, "ever thought of marrying me?"

he narrowed his eyes with a smirk of his own at her, "oh, you opportunistic minx."

"that one i'll gladly take as a compliment." raine proudly grinned, pushing further, "so?"

"let me think," he acted as if he was thinking deeply on the answer before turning back to her, "no."

raine gave a mocked sigh, chuckling right after, "a girl can only try."

the pair continued to dance, sneaking chats and gossips with laughter as they do so. with the music ending, he leads her off of the dance floor.

"well, what must i do now?" she said, now back with the beverages.

"dance, drink, have fun! just as there's no shortage of ladies, men too."

raine groaned at the mention of other bachelors, "ugh, i don't want to dance with other men."

benedict smiled at her adamant refusal of them, "darling, a ball is thrown to socialise."

"i'll socialise with you then."

"we have, for fourteen years already."

she smiled mischievously again, "are you counting?"

he pinched her right cheek as he proceeded to make faces, as if talking to a child, "it's simple mathematics." he laughed as she swatted his hand, standing straight up again.

"for one, you could save your father from lady townbridge. i doubt you'd like her for a mother."

raine groaned once again as the bridgerton boy bid his farewell, "ugh, i don't even like her as a person."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the young silva wandered around the ball, trying to find another source of fun. for some time, she stood near lady blackstow and lady vaughan, eavesdropping for a juicy gossip, but all she learned was their husbands' unhygienic activities. she tried to engage with others, hopping from person to person, but could not find them entertaining.

so, when she heard quite the laughter and cheers from the opposite side of a door, she did not even think twice to open it.

"well, what do we have here?" raine, with the largest grin ever, whispered to herself in joy.

the room was a heaven for her. it was full of things she finally deem as fun. there were people playing billiards on her left, cards on the other, drinking at the front, and—that's a familiar face.

"raphael! i didn't know you came back from duty." she greeted as she walked towards the man playing cards, tipping her head to the others surrounding the table as greetings.

the said man turned to the her with a surprised look, "lor—what are you doing here?"

"i'm a debutante?"

"no—" he paused at the misunderstanding, "like here."

"oh, i'm..." she began with a smile before turning to look around the place with more attention, "oh."

there were no women present. not a single strand of lengthy hair. nevertheless, she believe it was not a problem at all, turning back to the table with an excited smile.

"and she pulled up a seat." raphael muttered as the girl inserts a chair in between.

"how come no one told me there's a place like this in a ball?!"

the man placed his palms on his face, whisper-yelling right after, "general's going to kill me!"

"enjoy your remaining time then." raine laughed at his exaggeration as the other men began a new round, "now, watch me beat you all."

and she did! they've been at it now for four rounds. the men, varying in ages, wondered if they should be amazed or insulted by her.

"suck it up, boys." she whispered mockingly to raphael with a teasing smile.

however, her smile and his annoyance were quickly changed with a panic look as he noticed the clock hitting ten. he immediately rushed for raine to took cover on the opposite end of the table, a blind spot from the door.

"general." he greeted with a salute as the said man did arrive on the dot.

"raphael, it's a ball." he reminded, easing the younger one from the salute, "have you seen loraine?"

"loraine?" he awkwardly laughs, which is not helping the situation at all, "no, sir."

"notify leo and—" her father's voice was fading away as he and raphael walked outdoor.

as she stayed still and kept her gaze in front of her, she noticed a familiar head across the room, staring at her with a dumbfounded look. anthony mouthed at her, "what in the hell are you doing?"

on the other hand, as raphael has led the higher-ranking officer in a private corner, he spoke in a hushed voice, "loraine is inside, sir."

the general closed his eyes to compose himself, the activities of his daughter can be quite infuriating at times, "i suppose that's better, isn't it?" he asked as he puff on his cigar before continuing, "keep an eye on her. ford and smith will keep me updated."

raphael nodded, taking in the order as armand exhaled the smoke before walking away,

"and stop playing cards. she'll beat you all."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

"is father away?" raine asked, raphael affirming. she moved her seat to make room for the latter.

"come, the viscount is betting."

the table has gotten bigger in his return, with the bridgerton son joining them. he offered a hand to shake which the viscount took firmly. he greeted, "raphael montague, pleased to be of acquaintance."

anthony's brows raised at that inquiringly, "you don't happen to be the raphael, do you?"

"how do you mean?"

"oh, lan—" he held his tongue, just realising what he was about to say. he regained his composure with a light cough, "you were mentioned a couple of times in passing."

raine rolled her eyes, "you can say his name, you know. it's not a curse."

raphael replied to the other man with a chuckle, "i hope only the good things."

anthony laughed, remembering a story, "the grenade?"

"oh, please no." he held his head down with a short laugh.

the young silva clapped as another round was about to start, "less talking, more playing, gentlemen."

the round started fiercely, but luck seemed to be on raine's side for the night as she has been getting a good hand. as the rest revealed their set of cards, a cheering and smug raine and an annoyed raphael and anthony are what's left of the round. a tap on the viscount's shoulder distracted him.

"anthony, here you are. mother is—what are you doing here?"

"why is everyone asking that?" raine crossed her brows in annoyance, "you said i should have fun."

benedict turned to her completely from his brother, "this is not what i meant."

"i am having fun."

he laughed mockingly, "do you even play well?"

at the question, groans can be heard as the men were reminded of themselves losing. raine, however, was as pleased as she can be.

"anyone you see here has lost to me."

he rolled his eyes as he shrugged it off, "that's because they've had a drink."

"try it yourself, bridgerton." a man chuckled and voiced it out as a challenge.

the younger bridgerton turned to him smoothly, "you're not going to manipulate me into—"

"scared?"

raine taunted, she knew benedict so well.

"never."

he stated as the older bridgerton stood up and patted his brother's shoulders before leaving for their mother's call.

"what should we wager?" she asked, leaning back on the seat.

"if i win, you won't go into gentlemen's clubs anymore."

her lips formed a thin line at that, yet she slowly nodded, "agreeable."

"inside or outside of the balls."

raine jerked from her seat at once, "that's too much."

now, it's benedicts turn to lean back with a smirk, "i'm going to tell your father."

she likes him dearly, really. but, an irritated look manifested on her features, "alright, you're going to play like this, benedict?"

always with a flair for theatrics, she acted as if rolling her invisible sleeves before placing her wager on the table.

"if i win, you're going to marry me."

his eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing again, seemingly finding the words to say, "that is what's too much."

"these gentlemen are witnesses, ben." she gestured with ease to the men now surrounding their table.

"you are insane."

"only for the things i love, darling."

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

"lady silva lost."

a man declared as the rest are still in silence. the game was close, so utterly close that they were about to get their wives or inform their mothers of a wedding happening soon. however, as they were nearing the end, the silva girl made a huge error, costing her the chance to marry the object of her affections and the object of her fun.

"okay, but including within balls like this is too much, ben. this is the only entertaining thing in these events!" the gradual change of her tone from acceptance to whining in just two sentences was astounding.

"these gentlemen are witnesses, raine."

she blew out an exasperated breath at the smugness of the man sitting opposite her. she was about to retort when a voice from a man near the door announced.

"lord silva is coming!"

she hurriedly stood up, aiming for the door that would lead directly outside the mansion, to the gardens. raine turned back to them with a grin, saluting to them all with a hint.

"boys, i'll put in a good word to the ladies."

she departed the room just before her father's imposing figure arrived from the other door with a curious brow raised.

"why are you all so tense?"

outside, raine put a hand on a pillar to support herself as she catch her breath. her father's giving her so much exercise these days that she cannot wait for him to return to duty.

"we always seem to be escaping from your father." the young lady jumped in surprise with a hand on her chest at the voice, calming as she saw who it was.

"ben? what are you doing here?"

"well, what was i supposed to do? let you run off on your own? this late at night?" he lightly rubbed her back and asked in a mocking tone, as if pointing out the obvious.

"you know what, you are paradoxical." she stood straight again, lifting her hand from the pillar as she's getting her breath back, "you do things like this but you will not marry me."

benedict raised both his arms as if in surrender, "i am simply caring for you, like anthony and colin do. they would have done the same had they been in my position now. that does not equate to marriage."

"we're unchaperoned." she easily pointed out again, looking at him directly now.

"well—" the bridgerton began, racking his brain on what to say in his defense. he turned to raine yieldingly.

"it really is not a compliment."

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis

[kairiscorner]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE IM BEGGING 29 FROM THE DIALOGUE PROMPT WITH EX-HUSBAND CO PARENT MIGUEL WHO WE’RE STILL IN LOVE WITH BUT HE ACCIDENTALLY TAUGHT GABRIELLA TO CUSS IN SPANISH WHILE SHE WAS WITH HIM FOR THE WEEKEND OR SOMETHING😭💕 I LITERALLY LOVE ALL YOUR WORK SMM TAKE YOUR TIME🥹🩷🩷

HIIII omg THANK YOUUU and i love that idea wHAT i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

i didn't teach her that. – divorced!co-parent!miguel o'hara x divorced!co-parent!reader

miguel's car was parked in the driveway, with miguel himself helping gabriella out of the car and walking her up to you. she greeted you with a big hug as she came inside to change her clothes and taking off her shoes, leaving you and miguel out here by the patio. it was just two adults, two adults who used to be married to each other... but now just two adults who are forced to see each other for the sake of their daughter. "how was she?" you asked him promptly as you leaned against the doorway of your house. "oh, as bright and darling as usual. my mom came over, and so did gabri--they took care of her more than i would've liked to myself." he said as he looked away from you, feeling the heavy tension between you two still, even though your divorce had happened years ago.

you couldn't shake off the awkwardness between you two, you were both stuck in a weird limbo, you both were in a checkmate with each other. and no matter how much it hurt for you to think you used to be married, you used to be in love with this man... you couldn't hate him. in fact, you loved him dearly still. being divorced to him didn't change the fact you loved him, that you still love him; it also didn't change the fact you had to see him more than you thought would be good for either of you due to gabriella, it didn't change the fact he was the father of your child and had every right to see her.

you nodded as you opened the door a little wider, with a small voice in your head asking you what the hell you were doing. "wanna, y'know... come in?" you asked him in an awkward voice as he looked at you in slight surprise. "ah, sure, sure. thank you." he said as he stepped in as you opened the door wider for him. you hated how kind he sounded right then and there, how soft he became. 'this isn't the guy i divorced, that guy was a piece of shit. who's this guy really? he can't be miguel, no way...' you thought to yourself as you shut the door, hearing gabriella and miguel's faint conversation from far away in the kitchen.

the father and daughter were laughing together as miguel picked her up and spun her around. you remember when he used to do that when gabriella was a toddler, when neither of you had any problems towards each other, when all was blissful and sweet... when life was good. you abruptly stopped reminiscing the beautiful moments you all shared as a family when gabriella called you back to reality, asking you if you wanted to play some soccer outside with her as her goalie, with miguel being dragged by her outside. you chuckled and agreed, following her and miguel outside.

you two played a few good rounds, with miguel being the referee and keeping track of every time gabriella scored a goal. though when gabriella kicked the ball too hard and the ball was thrown into the top of a tree in your yard, she muttered something you could not believe would come out of her mouth. "mierda, puta madre!" your daughter exclaimed in frustration as you turned your head to her, asking yourself if you heard her right. "what did you say, young lady? do you even know what those words mean, dear?" you asked her in a stern tone as she froze up and turned to look at you.

"um... papa says those words all the time when... when he gets angry over the phone..." she muttered in a semi-frightened way, as if she didn't realize what she did wrong when you looked at her angrily and furrowed your eyebrows at her. your expression softened as you realized she didn't mean to cuss, it was her father's influence.

you breathed in deeply and exhaled, smiling at her, you knelt down to her level and pat her head as you called miguel over. "gabi, baby, please go to your room. your papa and i have a lot to talk about." you said as you glared at miguel when you turned your head to face him, with miguel gulping and going over behind gabi, holding her by her shoulders as if she could protect him from your rage. "gabi, as your papa, i say protect me from the dragon that is about to breathe fire on me." he murmured as you gently pulled gabi to you and led her into the house as you shut the sliding door and smiled at miguel a little too sweetly.

miguel backed away slowly as you took one of your slippers on the steps into the house and, while smiling all the while, approached him and raised your hand to smack him with your slipper repeatedly, scolding him for teaching your daughter to have a foul mouth and for not even being responsible enough for teaching her not to repeat what he says. "but muñeca, please! i'm sorry, i'm really sorry! i didn't think she'd repeat what i say, believe me!" he tried pleading with you as you kept swatting at him with your slipper. "like hell i can believe you of all people on anything you say anymore!" "even... even if i told you that i still loved you, you really wouldn't believe me? because, i... look, i still love you, querida, okay?! at least... at least believe me there, because nothing else could be truer!" he blurted out in a genuine, sad tone as you kept hitting him, but soon stopped as his words sunk in.

he loved you.

he loves you.

he still loves you.

but like hell you could believe him anymore.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @arachnoia @melovetitties @meeom @fictarian @yuridopted0 @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[blu3berryuwu9681]

It was a cold evening, having rained earlier. You were lost in the memories of Ryomen Sukuna, the guy whom you broke up with a month ago on the very same date. Walking down the alley you frequently visited, you couldn't help but be plagued with the memories of his gruff voice, his brawny figure, his soft lips... and the fight.

Walking down the lane made you feel miserable inside, remembering all the screaming and fighting the other day. Just as you were about to sigh, you felt a figure behind you.

"I just can't seem to let go of you, Y/N..."

Even as you gasped, you knew it was too late. He was back... again.

You woke up, feeling a ringing noise in your ears. You couldn't remember what happened after he spoke.

"Awake yet, princess?"

You flinched at the sound of the voice you dearly missed, but you weren't about to admit it. Yet.

"Why're you following me, Ryo?"

"I'm not. I just happened to see you, is all."

You looked around the room, to figure out where you were. Ah, you must be in his house... mansion, rather.

"This is where you'll be living for now."

Here? In this place?

"Stop giving that look, woman."

So that is where you stayed for two nights and days, when you found out he was going to have a party at his place. A perfect opportunity for fleeing. Just then, at that moment, you realised his house was in a secluded place, on a hill. Well, you'll think about that later.

That evening, you took out your hairpins which you'd managed to hide from your giant of a boyfriend, and used it to open the lock with a small click.

After passing corridor after corridor, you managed to find the exit gate. You ran to it, opening the door without stopping, and kept running into the night. You were faintly able to hear the beats of the drum, when you felt a presence behind you. 'Must be imagining things.' Wrong.

You felt gigantic arms wrap around you, holding you in your place.

"Don't leave me", you heard him say. "I'm not ready yet..."

"... I'm not ready yet."

[to-the-stars8]

Affairs and Letters

Jason Todd x Reader Regency AU! AO3 Chapters

Chapter XII

At the very least, the letters you had given Jason were restrained. There were dips in your sentences that he could have sworn held a double meaning, but he dared not assume too much. Yet, as he responded to your letters, he could not stop the vulgar words from escaping his mind. He wrote about how beautiful you were, how your smile and eyes could bring any man worth his salt to his knees. His lips wanted to touch you again and again, in all places that your dress hid and that only he would know. 

He made himself blush as he wrote and every so often had to take breaks to keep himself composed. If Jason’s father had gotten a peek at his words, he surely would have been scolded or something far worse. That is why, when Dick had thrown open his bedroom door, he had stuffed the letters into one of the slots of the desk without waiting for the ink to dry. 

“You know our lovely friend, Ms. Thompkins,” His older brother asked, taking long, wide steps toward his younger brother. 

“Yes, what of her?” Jason said, irritated. He had not thought much of Ms. Thompkins since the party where he first met you. Though you and Ms. Thompkins had been acquaintances, Jason was more than willing to praise her due to that simple fact. 

“We have just gotten an invitation for tea, but I cannot attend,” Dick said. 

Jason looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion before remembering one little fact about Ms. Thompkins. She was once your patron and was now one of your dearest friends. “Who will be in attendance?” 

“It does not say, but I do think she would invite you dearly beloved nanny,” Dick grinned. 

Standing, Jason would not entertain his brother’s jokes and took the note out of his hand before calling on one of the servants to have his horse prepared. He took his hurriedly written letters and shoved them into his coat pocket before riding for Ms. Thompkins.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Oh, Ms. Thompkins, am I such a fool as to be so enthralled by him at risk of my position? You know Lady Kent will not abide follies at the risk of reputable damage to her and her sons,” You said one day when Jon had accompanied his father into town, therefore providing you some freedom to visit your friend. Initially, it was going to be only the two of you, but, as you indulged her curiosity of your infatuation with Mr. Todd, she sought to invite him as well. 

Ms. Thompkins slowly sipped her tea before addressing you. “My dear, Mr. Todd has a reputation of goodness and aloof kindness. I do not think he would ever mean to injure your position nor be as wild as to sow his oats on a respectable young lady.” 

“Yes, I hope you are right,” You groaned. “You know I cannot help but fear fickle affection and the consequences of it on my person.”

“He is not such a man,” Ms. Thompkins insisted. “His father is all goodness, and I doubt he would ever bring his sons up in such devilish ways.”

You were going to agree again when a servant entered to inform Ms. Thompkins that Mr. Todd had arrived. Suddenly, you found yourself in a flustered disposition, with cheeks flushed and your heart beating fast. 

When Mr. Todd entered there was no question that you were very attracted to him. A tall, handsome man with a hidden passion for love made you feel very right indeed—Yes, you thought at the same time, you knew very well that such a man could not lie about his feelings. 

“Ah,” Ms. Thompkins began with excitement. “The elusive Mr. Todd bestowing his kind presence upon us—How great an occasion!”

Mr. Todd bowed his head and let her take his arm. From the moment he entered the room, his eyes only stayed upon you, scarcely looking at the host. She led him to sit next to you, giving you a mischievous grin as she did, before going to sit on the other side of the room. 

“How is your father, Mr. Todd,” She asked. 

“Very well, thank you.” 

“And your brothers and sister?” You asked. 

When you spoke, he smiled a little. “They are all well, Miss. How is Sir Kent and his family?”

“The same as yours, sir,” You smiled. 

Mr. Todd started at you with such admiration that Ms. Thompkins could thoroughly see that she was right. Not that she had any doubt or inclination that she could be wrong. 

“Mr. Todd,” the elder lady began. “Pray tell, does your father intend to host a ball soon? A house as grand as his deserves an even grander introduction to the neighborhood.”

Mr. Todd tried to smile politely. “I am not privy to this kind of information, but, be assured, when he does start to make plans—which I do not doubt will be soon—you will be the first to know, Ms. Thompkins.”

“Wonderful!” She laughed, clapping her hands. “I do not doubt that Lady Kent will be very excited for it, eh, sweet girl?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, my lady is always longing for a ball. Especially with a son who is getting closer to marrying age.”

“Ah, yes,” Ms. Thompkins said. “I feel in my old bones that marriages will be all about us soon. I do not doubt it!” 

You blushed before glancing over at Mr. Todd who was already looking at you with what you could only describe as admiration in his eyes. Looking back at Ms. Thompkins, you inquired about the tea, and it was then she finally realized that was the initial excuse for Mr. Todd’s presence. Standing, made the excuse that she would go fetch the tea herself, all with a sly grin. Wicked woman, you thought, executing such scandalous designs. She had fully intended to find some reason to leave you and Mr. Todd alone. Whether or not Jason noticed, you did not know, because, as soon as Mr. Thompkins was gone, he pressed a kiss to your neck. You gasped, turning to look at him. 

“Restrain yourself, sir,” said you, attempting to sound serious though a smile betrayed your true feelings. “My friend could return at any moment.”

“Forgive me,” said he, not truly meaning it. “I could not help myself.”

“I have missed you as well, Jason.” You glanced at the door before stealing a kiss. He sighed once you had left his lips cold to regain your composure. Mr. Todd took the chance of the solitude to slip you his letters, which you took with a wide grin. You spared one more kiss before scooting away from him toward your bag. 

No sooner had you put the letters away in your bag did the parlor room door swing open again. Ms. Thompkins seemed a bit disappointed not to find the two of you in a scandalous position. Oh, Ms. Thompkins surely loved a bit of scandal. Not long after her arrival, the tea came accompanied with biscuits and little sandwiches. Mr. Todd seemed much more interested in the food than he was in any sort of conversation. 

Tea had lasted well into the afternoon, and, by the time Ms. Thompkins had indicated that it was time for her guests to leave, nightfall was dangerously close. As you shrugged on your coat, you insisted to your gracious host that you would be fine walking home. Mr. Todd was quick to tell you otherwise. 

“There are all types of dangers on the road. No, no, you will not walk home. You will ride with me,” He said. 

Ms. Thompkins loved the idea and urged you to join Mr. Todd, to which, after some pressure, you agreed. As Mr Todd took your hand, you could not help but feel excited at the thought of being so close to him. You were not an impulsive person, but tonight you felt dangerously close to being one. With that in mind, you only wished it would not ruin you or leave you with regret.

[lilmoonbunny]

First Love; Mycroft Holmes x Singer!Reader [1]

Y/N and Mycroft's relationship was something that she would never forget.

Throughout her career, every single song that she wrote held memories of their past relationship. So when Sherlock finds out she is back in London, he can't resist the urge to meddle.

(Part of a mini-series)

People often say that you will always remember your first love, and for Y/N, this fact was true.

Every song she ever wrote held a memory of the first man she had ever loved, a part of her that she never wanted to let go. Whilst she could act like the lyrics were based on other men – other partners – she always thought of him whenever she would sing, and even as she stood in front of her current partner, it never felt right; he wasn’t him.

James was… nice, some of the time, at least. Sure, he could be rude and toxic, but he loved her, right? He was a good guy, maybe? She wasn’t too sure, but she was scared to leave. Whilst it didn’t feel right being with him, part of her was terrified of his reaction to her leaving. So maybe he wasn’t exactly a nice guy; this was solidified when Y/N discovered evidence of him taunting someone she knew and cared for dearly.

As she stood in front of the door to 221B Baker Street, mask covering her face so no potential fans would recognise her, Y/N glanced up at the window. It had been years since she had seen Sherlock. He was a child when they last saw each other, would he even still remember her?

“You must be John,” she nodded at the short man who came to the door.

His eyes widened, presumably shocked at her knowing his name, and he cleared his throat. “Uhm – yes, come on in.”

With a small thanks, the singer followed John up the stairs to the flat.

“There’s no need to wear a mask, you know. It’s not like you’re going to catch anything,” came Sherlock’s blunt voice, one that had Y/N smiling.

“Trust me, I know,” she responded, removing the covering.

Sherlock froze in place. “Y/N…?”

With a soft smile, Y/N nodded.

“Hold on,” John interrupted, clearly confused. “Y/N, as in the singer?”

She simply giggled and nodded.

“You know her!?” John turned to face Sherlock who simply brushed him off, turning to his former friend.

“Does Mycroft know that you’re here?”

Ah… Mycroft.

Y/N tensed for a moment at the name, and that was all Sherlock needed to see for his answer, even if he did have trouble deducing her in the past; he was young, after all.

“I have something you might find interesting,” Y/N smiled slightly, opening her bag to pass him some papers. “My… boyfriend. I think he’s stalking you.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, lifting himself from the chair and snatching the paper from her, something that earned a giggle from the woman.

“Moriarty… Never heard of him.” Sherlock mumbled as he read over the sheets of information that Y/N had gathered and stolen. There was no doubt that James would notice, but if she was going to potentially save Sherlock’s life, that was worth the risk.

“I really don’t have long, I have a song to record, but I’m hoping that can help,” Y/N nodded, shutting her bag before turning to the door. “Nice to see you again, Sherly. Bye, John.” As she left the flat, she heard Sherlock call to her.

“Tell Mycroft you’re here. I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

She simply ignored him.

Having spent the day combing through each detail of the document’s that Y/N had given him, Sherlock was in no mood to deal with Mycroft asking him to take a case that he has no interest in.

“No, I won’t take your case.” Sherlock stated the moment Mycroft let himself into the flat.

“You don’t even know what it’s about!” Mycroft was glad John wasn’t around to hear him almost yell; it would ruin his uncaring façade.

“Don’t care,” he paused for a moment, before a smirk began forming on his lips. “I have something you might want to know. Something about a specific somebody.”

“Don’t care,” Mycroft mimicked his brother’s previous words.

“I think you will,”

“Well, I think you are wrong.”

“Suit yourself, Mycroft.”

Receiving a call from an unknown number always had Y/N on edge, and her recent breakup with James was no help to the matter, yet she still answered it.

“Hello…?” She asked.

“Ah, Y/N, finally.” It was Sherlock. “Dinner, my parents place for Christmas, you should come. If you’re not too busy, that is.” In the background, the woman could hear Sherlock’s friend scolding him for how blunt he was being. Sensing her hesitation, Sherlock added. “My parents would be pleased to see you.”

A soft sigh left her lips. “All right, fine, but you’re paying for my fuel.”

It was a long drive to the Holmes’ place, but it was a pleasant one, even if the drive did have her thinking of her first love.

Would he be there? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Nervousness filled her body as she wandered towards the front door, placing a gentle knock. Sure, she had performed in front of thousands of people, but knocking on this door was the scariest thing that she had ever done.

“Oh my Gosh! I didn’t believe Sherlock could actually do it.” Mrs Holmes squealed, immediately pulling Y/N into a hug as she spoke.

“Hi, Mrs Holmes!”

Inside the house, Sherlock smirked as he glanced towards his older brother who seemed confused. He recognised that voice but couldn’t exactly place whose it was. As though he sensed Sherlock’s gaze, he looked towards him with a raised eyebrow, silently questioning, but Sherlock gave no response.

“Come in, come in! Sherlock’s already here, so is Mycroft!”

Ah, so he is here, Y/N thought to herself, taking a deep breath as she entered the house she had not seen in years.

Following Mrs Holmes into the living room where the others were seated, she was yet to be spotted by Mycroft, at least until Mr Holmes spoke her name.

“Ah, Y/N! Long time no see,” Mr Holmes grinned, smiling up at her from the sofa where he sat beside Mycroft.

Mycroft’s head shot up at the name, eyes shooting towards the door where she stood.

Sherlock… He thought to himself. Oh, how he wanted to kill him at that moment,

“You knew she was here, and you didn’t tell me!?” Mycroft demanded to know as he stood opposite his brother in the kitchen after excusing himself.

“I did try, Brother Mine, but you said you didn’t care.” Sherlock’s reminder of their previous conversation left Mycroft speechless, and he froze as he heard a familiar voice.

“Are you two all right? You kind of seem angry,” Y/N smiled sweetly. “Sorry, your mum sent me to check that you two hadn’t killed each other.” She giggled.

Sherlock knew that his brother wouldn’t speak, too frozen in shock and anger, so he had to. “Not yet, Y/N, but Mycroft wasn’t aware you were coming. I did tell you to go see him.”

“You did.” Y/N swallowed. “I’m sorry I didn’t, Mycroft.”

“Well, I guess this is my cue to leave,” Sherlock said, smirking the moment his back was turned to the pair.

An awkward silence filled the air the moment the door clicked shut behind Sherlock and they both cursed him internally.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated, “I can leave if it’s too weird for you.”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “No! It’s… fine.” He rushed out, pausing for a moment before finishing his sentence as to not seem too enthusiastic to be seeing her again. Sure, it had been years, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t miss her occasionally. Although, that was something that he would never admit. Another awkward silence. “I’ve heard you on the radio, you’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you.”

Y/N blushed. “Thank you, Mycroft…”

As they stood there, memories of their past relationship began flooding into both their minds.

“Well, I suppose we should be going back to bother Sherlock.” Y/N grinned, desperate to get out of the room, praying that she could last long enough without admitting how much she missed him.

“We should,” Mycroft nodded awkwardly, before moving past her, into the previous room, glaring at Sherlock who sat beside John with a smirk on his lips, before heading outside.

Sherlock’s smirk dropped the second Y/N grabbed hold of his ear, leaning down to whisper “I’m going to kill you, Sherlock,” before moving to sit beside John who seemed shocked at how close she seemed with the Holmes family; he still couldn’t get over the fact that Sherlock knew her.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oh!! Oh!!! Lamb with a reader who taught him how to use the red crown as a gun!! Reader is flexing their talent like "haha yeah I was shamuras best (and like only) shot >:)" and follower shamura (who is maybe readers s/o??) is just like "I vaguely remember a report coming of you shooting one of the windows of my temple...." but lamb and reader have that vibe thats like older cousin younger cousin that cause chaos at every gathering their both at

"What is this..?"

"My, you've done it! The power of a blunderbuss now belongs to you, dear Lamb."

"The blunder...wha..?" Tilting their head, Lamb stared at the rather odd weapon the Red Crown manifested itself into recently, before looking back at you.

You're a weapons expert from Silk Cradle, becoming an apprentice of Kudaai to better hone you combat capabilities while in service to Bishop Shamura. Although you were good with blades and arrows, the old bird allowed you to indulge into a different type of weaponry:

The blunderbuss. A powerful weapon that shot magic bullets, the damage dependent on how close your target was.

Its potential drew you towards it--like a moth to a flame--and you began studying it, utilizing it in any situation where you had to fight for your life. Even after winding up in Lamb's cult, they allowed you to keep the weapon so long as you didn't raise it against any of their followers.

You wouldn't dare to.

Not after seeing their incredible power gifted by the One Who Waits...who was now the cult's undertaker for the day, tending to the crypts and all the dearly departed who laid within them.

From the moment you heard Lamb had begun to harness their own blunderbuss, they seemed lost on how to use it, so they turned to you for an explanation.

You listened to their recounts of putting several holes through scamper heads, sniping flying beasts right out of the sky, and even making shield-bearing heretics recoil from the sheer force of the bullets.

"It's indeed a highly unconventional weapon," you told them. "Rarely known to anyone in the Old Faith except Shamura, Kudaai, and myself. But as you can tell...it beats the bow of a silly archer any day. They're dead before their arrow even made it out of the quiver."

"That is true," the sheep nodded, looking to their own weapon, the red eye staring back at them. "I notice that it refills on its own...but it took forever. I kept clicking the damn trigger, but nothing." With a small grumble, they glared at you. "I was in a tough spot, and had to use a curse to escape..otherwise I would've been dead--not that it matters..but it was annoying."

"I was going to mention that little tradeoff, Lamb." You chuckled softly. "With the blunderbuss, patience becomes your greatest virtue."

"Well..patience won't help when I'm surrounded by fanatics who are still making martyrs out of the Bishops, and I'm backed into a corner with little fervor, and I can't-"

"What of the Bishops?"

A raspy voice spoke, startling Lamb a little as you both saw a certain purple arachnid now standing over you two. Despite their menacing looks, their eyes were full of curiosity.

"A-Ah, Shamura."

"Shamura." You warmly greeted, patting the spot beside you. "Come sit. Lamb has an inquiry."

Wordlessly, they sat and glanced at the leader, waiting for whatever they had to say.

"Erm..what do you know about this?" They showed them the blunderbuss. "The people of Anchordeep and Silk Cradle supposedly have the most advanced weaponry..yet I haven't seen one person wield anything like this. Were these outlawed or something?"

Without speaking or blinking, Shamura took it into their hands, examining it thoroughly. They seemed rather focused...although it could have been due to the fact the Red Crown had taken form of it, which made Lamb a bit nervous.

Even though the Bishops couldn't do anything with it now, they still got fidgety whenever it left their side for too long...and even more nervous seeing it resting in the hands of another.

"I see...I remember something clearly." Shamura spoke after a long minute of silence.

"You do?"

"The broken window of my temple...was supposedly from one of the magic shells. Who informed me? Not a clue..but I knew the guilty party." All of their eyes suddenly shifted to you, narrowed with suspicion.

You looked around, pretending to play dumb, before you pointed to a random follower. "You mean him?"

"....take me naught for a fool, [y/n]." They hissed. "You were always trigger happy. We have barred use of this from the fighting pit. As an old saying goes, "never bring a blunderbuss to a knife fight".....who said it? I cannot say. But I knew who didn't like that rule."

"You have to admit, though, I was your best sharpshooter." You winked, smiling as they handed the blunderbuss back to you. "The archers were all jealous that I had better aim. I did offer to teach them."

"You were always trigger happy. We have barred use of this from the fighting pit.."

"Yes we have. I'm the one who got it banned in Silk Cradle." Feeling a little awkward, you laughed nervously. "But it's good to see that somebody else is able to learn the art of gunslinging."

"Now that Lamb has obtained knowledge of this tool..." Shamura hummed. "..what are you to do with it?"

Your leader was silent for a few moments, wondering if they should mention shooting freefalling spiders and stopping charger bugs dead in their tracks....when you interjected.

"They still have much to learn about it. So maybe we could borrow some training dummies from Kudaai, and I'll help them improve their marksmanship....if they wish to learn, of course." Nudging their shoulder, Lamb perked up and gazed at you for a few seconds, surprised by your offer.

Then they grinned, a twinkle in their eye as their crown returned to their head, back to normal. "You'd teach me how to master the blunderbuss?"

"Why not? You've mastered every other weapon." Laughing softly, you stood up, before extending your hand to them. "Perhaps we can have Ratau set up old worm corpses for us, and I can show you how to aim for the most vital organs."

"Wouldn't those be the brain and the heart?"

"See? You're already learning well. You'll be a natural in no time, Leader."

Lamb's smile widened as they took your hand, standing up before you two set off for the Lonely Shack.

Meanwhile, Shamura remained on the ground, sighing as they pondered over the mischief you two will bring to that old rat and his friends..

And Leshy had the misfortune of overhearing those last few bits of your conversation, as he unearthed himself from the soil just a few feet away from his sibling, spitting out dirt.

"As if my minions dying wasn't disgraceful enough...Lamb and your silly "sharpshooter" will spend today desecrateing their corpses for practice?!" He shuddered. "They think so...alike."

"Have you not used dissenters for the same purpose, brother?"

"..I used to be chaos, Shamura. That's different."