#also you know they wear these clothes with each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cevansbrat0007 · 1 day ago

Note

I saw this and thought of Ari and his Bird right away 😂 Now how would he react? 😌

Dinner is Served...

Summary: You surprise Ari with his favorite meal: You.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, An Appearance from Bucky Barnes, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, High Heels, Naked Fun in the Kitchen, Manhandling, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Pussy Eating, Very Mild Chase Kink, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: I think someone actually asked me this a while ago. Maybe. I vaguely remember my answer. However, instead of rehashing that, this is how I think that would go - with a twist! Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I sent you the files this morning, Buck.” Ari winces as he shoulders his way into your house from the garage. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to open ‘em.”

“Just resend them in a different format.” His friend and business partner responds, sounding frustrated.

“Why don’t you just give-in and ask Pixie to help you already?”

“Because she’s been giving me the silent treatment since Tuesday. Why would I want to risk breaking the streak?”

Rolling his eyes, he drops his bag by the door – only to be surprised when he spots a pair of your panties laying innocently on the floor. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that it’s actually one of his favorites. It was part of a set he’d bought you just last month.

“What’d you do, Barnes?”

“Uh…” A heavy sigh can be heard coming from the other side of the phone. “I accidentally broke her fancy little coffee maker.”

“Wow.” He responds, disapproval evident in his tone.

“Hey! I just said it was an accident. She said she had a bad night and so I tried to make her one of those latte…macchiato…things she likes. And then I broke it.”

“Make it right, Buck.” After toeing off his boots Ari begins making his way towards the kitchen, following the sound of music in the air. He frowns when he spies your blouse in the middle of the hallway. Closely followed by a pair of black leggings.

“How?” God, his buddy could be so goddamned obtuse sometimes.

“Fucking apologize. And then buy her another one – a better one.”

“Ugh!” The former soldier whines. “I wouldn’t even know where to start looking for a replacement. How about I–?”

Wait. WAIT. Was that your bra? Just what the fuck was up with this strange trail of clothes?

“Buck, you’re a grown man. And google is your friend.” Ari snaps as he picks up your fallen undergarment, his confusion growing with each passing second. “Restore peace to the land before that woman feels compelled to drop a nuke.” With that he ends the call, now ready to solve whatever mystery he’s just stumbled upon.

But what it’s he sees when he rounds the corner that has him stopping dead in his tracks.

“Well, shit.” His mouth goes dry as he watches your hips sway to the music pumping out of the speaker.

A low whistle of appreciation has you glancing over your shoulder.

If you were being honest, you’d known he was home the moment you’d heard your garage door open. Which was also why your bathrobe was now hastily balled up in your pantry.

“Welcome home!” You chirp, not missing the way your man’s eyes darken as they drink you in. “Did you have a good day?”

“What’s all this?” Ari’s already deep voice dips an octave as he holds up your previously abandoned bra, dangling it from his finger. But you know he’s not mad. This question is coming from a man who clearly likes what he sees.

Which just so happens to be you. Happily cooking in your kitchen. Wearing nothing but a little makeup and a pair of red heels. Oh, and oven mitts. Can’t forget those.

You’d come across this scenario while aimlessly scrolling on Instagram. And since you were growing more comfortable with the body you saw in the mirror these days, you figured that it might be worth trying your luck. If only to see your man’s reaction.

“Oops!” You gasp, trying your best to look apologetic. “I just haven’t had a chance to clean up yet. I’m sorry.”

“Baby…” Ari drags a stunned hand over his jaw. “That’s not even – ah fuck. Cleanin’ up is the absolute last thing on my mind right now.” Dropping the undergarment on a nearby table, he begins making his way to you – only to come up short once again when he catches sight of your heels.

“What? I’m just tryin’ to break ‘em in. That’s all.”

“Fuck meee.” He groans under his breath, his eyes going wide at the sight of your latest surprise.

“Hold that thought, sugar.” With a wink, you turn back towards the stove before bending over to retrieve tonight’s dessert from the oven. You’re forced to bite the inside of your cheek when you hear your bounty hunter’s sudden intake of breath at the sight of your bare ass.

“There we go.” You hum, playfully fanning yourself with a checkered mitt. “Hope you like homemade cinnamon rolls with whipped cream cheese frosting." Tendrils of feminine pride unfurls in your belly when you notice Ari’s impressive hard-on tenting his jeans. "They’re the perfect after-dinner treat.”

“That’s–I’m not…” He cuts himself off, surprising you both with his inability to speak. “We–that ain’t the kinda treat I’m hungry for, little Bird.”

“Hm.” You nod as you stretch your arms above your head. Giving into temptation, you rise up on your toes before giving a little shimmy, calling attention to your breasts. “No problem. What’s the point of talkin’ about dessert when we haven’t even discussed the main course?”

“Huh?” Ari clears his throat, his rapt gaze now focused on your pouting nipples.

“Tonight we’re having roasted potatoes –”

“I don’t give a good-damn about no roasted potatoes, woman!” The bounty hunter rumbles, cutting you off before you can finish telling him your menu. “You don’t need to cook nothin’ else. I already know what I’m hungry for.” He takes a decisive step in your direction. “It’s just a matter of where I’m eatin’.”

“But you don’t even know what we’re havin’ yet!” Comes your incredulous laugh as you bat away his eager hands.

“This right here.” He growls, broadly gesturing at your naked body. “All of this. That’s what I want.” Without warning, he grabs the edge of his t-shirt with both hands before yanking it over his head, revealing his muscled chest. “I'm fuckin' starvin'.”

“But I’m not on the menu!” You shriek, throwing a dish towel at him the next time he gets too close. The next thing you know, this man is now chasing you around your own kitchen, his long legs quickly eating up the space between you.

Fuck it was hard to run in heels!

“Now I don’t mind where I dine, darlin’.” Your man purrs, his already sexy voice pitched to arouse. “We can take it to the bedroom. The living room…”

“Beast!” You burst into a fit of giggles as you attempt to fend him off with the help of a chair. “Need I remind you that we are in the kitchen?”

Now that makes him pause. But only for a second.

“It ain’t the first time I’ve had you in here.” The chair you’ve been holding is gently ripped from your grasp. “Pretty sure I’ve devoured that pussy in every room of this house.” You watch in defeat as he sends your last little bit of protection skidding across the floor. “Did you forget how wet you got the last time I splayed you out on this-here table? Because I haven’t.”

One rough, slightly calloused hand grips the back of your neck – drawing you closer.

“Remember how I made you hold yourself open for me?” His lips ghost over yours – the sharp nip of his teeth causing your heart to beat erratically in your chest. “Remember the way your thighs shook every time you gushed around me?” He moans softly, the erotic sound going straight to your dripping cunt.

“I–If you don’t want the potatoes, we’re also having…um…” You can’t help but whimper when he abandons your throat in favor of grabbing a hearty handful of your ass. “Herb roasted chicken…”

“I get so hard whenever I think about the way you drenched my fuckin’ beard, baby.” Ari gives you a playful squeeze before lifting you by your hips and depositing you on the table as if you weigh nothing. “My good girl always makes such a mess for me. Don’t you?”

“Could I perhaps interest you in some honey glazed carrots?” However, your weak attempt at redirection is completely ignored.

A heady thrum of excitement courses through you when you feel your back connect with the cool, wooden surface. And then Ari’s hands come to rest on your knees, gently prying them apart, baring your most intimate flesh.

“Look at you.” He rasps, tenderly stroking your slick folds. “Fuckin’ soaked already. And here we are just gettin’ started.” He parts you with thick fingers before leaning down to press a kiss to your puffy clit, making your hips buck.

“Yeah,” he continues. “This is the only honey I give a fuck about tonight.” Gripping your ankle, he drapes your leg over one broad shoulder, opening you up to him even more. And then he reaches for the remote to your speaker, turning up the volume of the music that had since become little better than background noise.

“Don’t want any interruptions while I enjoy my meal. Especially since you spent so much time preparin’ it.” Ari drags your body towards the edge of the table before taking a seat in a chair and placing a napkin across his lap. “And don’t worry about me needing any silverware, sweet Bird…” He murmurs as his mouth descends upon your vulnerable, quivering pussy.

“I don't mind gettin' my hands dirty.”

END

Official Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@ninacutebee16

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@emerald-writes

@gh0stgurl

@blogbog710

@sincerelytlh

@gummydummy19

@steviebbboi

@missaprilt23

@scorpiosaintt

195 notes · View notes

sukuna-ryo · 3 days ago

Text

Trigger warnings:

NSFW Content, Alcohol Use/Intoxication, Non-Religious Themes (Priest Involved in NSFW Context), Dubious Consent (Implied Drunken States), Religious Guilt, Incest Joke/Mention, Threesome, Sexual Content, Emotional Distress, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Headcanons:

Priest Nanami, who one day officiates the wedding of drunk Gojo and you.

Priest Nanami, who feels like he's doing something he shouldn't, but ultimately follows through with it because you both, in your drunken state, seem to have already registered your marriage prior to making your way to the church—Gojo was waving the marriage certificate in his face.

Priest Nanami, who can see that you're wearing a short wedding dress that seems like something you bought in a hurry from a local Walmart.

Priest Nanami, who also notices that Gojo seems to be wearing a white shirt and tie that look like they were bought from the same Walmart, paired with his wide-leg black jeans.

Priest Nanami, who concludes that you have come here from the club, judging by the way your friends are all in club attire.

Priest Nanami, whose eyes unknowingly keep drifting to the bride, who looks absolutely breathtaking even in her drunken state.

Priest Nanami, who was unaware that, although he didn't, drunk Gojo noticed everything.

Priest Nanami, who finally gets done officiating your wedding against his wishes and better judgment, grumbling throughout the ceremony.

Priest Nanami, who somehow gets pulled into an afterparty/reception by drunk Gojo, you, and your rowdy friends.

Priest Nanami, who has a drink too many forced down his throat by drunk Gojo and your friends.

Priest Nanami, who gets absolutely wasted and ends up being carried to Gojo's place with you.

Priest Nanami, who wakes up in the same bed with you and Gojo—all three of you completely naked.

Priest Nanami, who is horrified by the realization that he had a threesome with the couple whose wedding he officiated just a few hours ago.

Priest Nanami, who is on the verge of tears as rage and guilt consume him over committing such a grave sin (not his fault though—Gojo did this).

Priest Nanami, who is even more horrified when he finds out that Gojo and you aren't even a couple and got married in a drunken frenzy.

Priest Nanami, who almost has a heart attack when Gojo reveals that you and he are actually half-siblings.

Priest Nanami, who forgets that he is a man of God as he almost murders Gojo, before you rush in to break up the fight, saying that Gojo is joking.

Priest Nanami, who hurriedly puts on his clothes to storm out of the house but stops when Gojo asks if he's really going to leave after everything that's happened.

Priest Nanami, who feels like a devil is whispering in his ear when Gojo asks if he's sure he'd be okay with never seeing you again.

Priest Nanami, who musters all his strength, straightens himself, and lies that he'd be damned if he ever saw your or Gojo's face again—but it's no use when Gojo suddenly pulls you in for a kiss.

Priest Nanami, who can't help but feel a little flustered and a lot aroused when he sees Gojo deepen the kiss, and then the two of you fully making out and grinding against each other.

Priest Nanami, who snaps out of it and walks to the bedroom door, twisting the doorknob to leave, but stops in his tracks when he hears you call out to him.

Priest Nanami, who knows that he's damned beyond salvation and definitely going to hell when he turns around and takes in your appearance, realizing that the devil in the room is you and not Gojo.

Priest Nanami, who cannot bring himself to ignore your pleas and desperate expression longing for him.

Priest Nanami, who spends the next few days in Gojo's bed with you.

Priest Nanami, who knows that he cannot confess his sins of the past few days to his fellow priest in the confessional box.

Priest Nanami, who thinks it would be better to die because he won't be using the confessional box ever again with all the sins he'll be committing from now on.

This is my first fanfic that I've ever posted so please go easy on me

151 notes · View notes

rinawantstosleep · 2 days ago

Text

"I don't like your stupid, white hair."

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does."

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable.

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!"

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made.

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that."

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts.

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious."

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?"

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other?

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour."

"Yes, ma'am."

Cue a tiny gasp.

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?"

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe."

. . .

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Atta girl. Now, you go that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jjk satoru

102 notes · View notes

rooksspite · 3 days ago

Text

The Invitation

Lucanis Dellamorte x f! De Riva! Rook

this is my first time actually posting something i’ve written for dragon age! i’ve loved the series for so long and decided to finally bite the bullet.

I wanted to write about Lucanis’ reaction to that crow armour you can get from the lords of fortune. let’s pretend that there aren’t other npc crows that wear it.

“C’mon! It’s blue, has feathers, and some flowy stuff. Doesn’t that check all the boxes for what you crows wear?”

Rook turns her head to look up at Taash with an unconvinced look, “we also prefer to have our vital organs covered Taash. You’re sure there isn’t a missing shirt?” she asks, turning back to the merchant of the Hall of Valour, who only raised his hands and shrugged.

“It’s rumoured to have been worn by a pretty well known crow before making its way into my collection.”

“Right.” Rook replies, unconvinced

“Perhaps the crow was so good at their job they felt they didn’t need to cover up. Isn’t a big part of the crow uniform making statement against enemies?” Neve pipes up, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Rook narrows her eyes at the woman before turning back to the armour before her. Neve wasn’t wrong about crow fashion, and the quality was really nice but it was just so… exposing.

“if I showed up in Treviso in this Viago would burst into laughter and then kick me out… again.” Rook mumbles.

Taash groans in impatience, they’d been standing here for the better part of twenty minutes as Rook looked at the merchant’s stuff, “come on Rook, we have a ring to fight in! just get it! Show off some skin for once.”

Rook blushes at that, everything she wore usually covered her up. Even her casual clothes she wore back at the lighthouse was the most she’s ever shown.

“Why don’t you try it on and see how it fairs in the ring? I’m sure Isabela would be more than happy to introduce you in your new outfit.” Neve offers

Room sighs, she didn’t know why but ever since she talked to Neve about her very limited knowledge on beauty and fashion and Neve and Taash have both been very insistent on her trying out new styles.

“Fine… We have plenty of gold anyways.”

She doesn’t notice the victorious smirks Neve and Taash share over her head.

———

“Lucanis.”

“Davrin.”

Silence rings through the library of the lighthouse as the two men greet each other. Both pretending to look at the various titles in the spines of books. Lucanis swirls the coffee in his cup and clears his throat before taking a sip.

Davin finally speaks, “So… You and Rook hey?”

Lucanis pulls his gaze away from the bookshelf, turning to Davrin with a raised eyebrow, “we have been over this no?”

Davrin shrugs leaning against another bookshelf, “just double checking, leave it up to both crows of the group to end up in a nest together.”

Lucanis chuckles, “we have not ‘nested’”

There’s a pause before Davrin continues, “You two haven’t really gone out alone have you? Outside of our work against the gods i mean.”

Lucanis blinks at the question and pauses to think, “well uh… no not really.”

“Why not?”

Lucanis sighs, it had been weeks since their near kiss before he cowered away, and while they continued to show clear attraction on both sides, it’s not as if there was an official label on their… relationship. Would it be too much to spend time alone? With no goal in mind?

“it’s complicated” He finally says stiffly.

Davrin chuckles, “I can see that,”

The familiar whoosh of the eluvian from below can be heard, “perfect timing,” Davrin hums.

The doors to the eluvian room creak open and the murmur of chatter can be heard as the three make their way up the stairs.

Neve surfaces first and a sly smile crosses her face when she makes eye contact with lucanis.

Well that can’t be good, he thinks to himself as he takes a sip of his coffee,

“Welcome back,” Davrin greets, “How was the ring?”

Neve shrugs, “Isabela’s out another 60 gold. We would’ve been back sooner if someone didn’t take their time shopping.”

Rook’s laughter can be heard as she climbs the staircase, “I didn’t take that long neve.” she says as she reaches the top of the staircase.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee.

“Sooo what do we think?” Taash says as they walk up behind Room. A large grin on their face. They put their hands on Rook’s shoulders and spin her around like a doll, ignoring her sounds of protest.

Davrin throws an amused look back at Lucanis, “What do we think Lucanis?” he turns his gaze back and crosses his arms, “I think you’re missing a shirt Rook.”

“According to the merchant I’m not.” Rook says with a sheepish chuckle. Suppressing the urge to cross her arms over her chest.

“Thing fits like a glove though, she fought in the arena with this armour on and left perfectly fine.” Neve says, nudging Rook with her elbow.

“Mierda, you fought in that?” Lucanis finally chokes out. Barely recovering from the initial shock of seeing the woman he was already extremely attracted to wearing… That.

“Like a badass.” Taash confirms, smirking at the sight of Lucanis’ face, “well Neve you had to show me that… thing right?”

Neve nods, the mischievous smile never leaving her face, “right of course. would you like to come with Davrin? For the thing?”

The elf smiles knowingly, “I’d love to.”

the three waste no time in leaving the library of the lighthouse, the door swinging shut behind them.

Rook chuckles nervously under Lucanis’ stare, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“It’s a bit much right? The merchant said a renowned crow once wore this armour but I think he just lost the shirt.”

Lucanis rakes his eyes up and down her body. Trying desperately not to focus on her chest.

But how could he when she was wearing a variety of necklaces that led his eyes even further down? For once he could see almost the entirety of the tattoo she had on her chest, who put that there? Who had the pleasure of seeing the full expanse of her soft skin before he could-

“Lucanis?”

Lucanis jumps as his train of thought is broken, he clears his throat as he tightens his grip on his coffee cup, “you look…”

“VERY NICE ROOK.”

There’s a pause as Spite’s voice rings through the library. Lucanis suddenly wishes that the device spinning above their heads would malfunction and he would be torn up by the fade.

Rook, in all her kindness laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “thank you Spite but I was asking Lucanis.”

Her eyes meet his again and he swallows. There’s a pause before he takes a deep breath, calming the shock in his mind.

“I think…” he started slowly, stalking his way up to Rook, “you look beautiful, though I would advise against leaving some of the most important parts of you… vulnerable.”

Rook doesn’t know if the dip in his voice is intentional but it makes her shiver nonetheless. Her eyes trained on the free hand that comes up to feel the plumage on her shoulders.

“T-that’s what I told Taash,”, she says with an awkward chuckle. Suddenly feeling very warm.

Rook breaks her gaze away from his hand and nearly gasps when she meets Lucanis’ eyes. Dark and intense, with a heat in them that was starting to become familiar to her.

Flustered, Rook breaks eye contact. laughing awkwardly as one of her hands comes up to fiddle with the chains in her neck. Lucanis tries to not make his stare so obvious.

“I-I should change, no need to be in armour here right?” Rook steps away awkwardly, not waiting for an answer. Nearly tripping as she quickly ascends the stairs towards her room.

It’s only when Lucanis hears the creak of a door opening and closing does he slouch and inhale shakily, his hand reaching towards a bookshelf to steady himself, “mierda.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #dragon age the veilguard #datv #dragon age lucanis #lucanis romance #datv fanfic #da4 lucanis #lucanis x reader

88 notes · View notes

melaninfury · 1 day ago

Text

Astrology Harsh Opinions

Please don’t take this as astrological facts. These are more my experience and perspective. The whole chart and aspects must also be considered.

- one things for certain and two things for sure if there is cancer in the first house or especially the sun side. I know you are a road rager and you need to stop.

- Yes, Libra placements you are people pleasing even when you’re trying to please yourself.

- I second this if you have personal planets like Moon, Venus, Mercury and Mars in the Seventh house. Just please choose yourself first and stop trying to make your identity being a savior.

-Scorpios are you done being my way or the highway about important deep, compromising issues in love? Let your toxic internal ways go and let people accept you not enable muah 💋

- Aries, you know that anger and motivation are not passionate ways to solve your emotional problems. Please feel deeper and unlike a two year old child 🙇🏽‍♀️ (movement can be still and internal)

- Libra Venus always wear or do something socially adorable. Poole either love their nails, shoes clothes, love life or simply even their furniture in the house. Y’all have aesthetic.

- Virgos and intense Virgo placements like Virgo mars in the 6th house or having planets at Virgo degrees. I always notice this connection to animals or pet companions. They have this understanding of pets being of service to its owner. So for example I noticed they always have a lifelong pet or multiple pets that become apart of their life not just an accessory. Their houses will be filled with the existence of their pet companion.I do think that being that the 6th house, rules over pets and acts of service virgos (depends how aspects and house at the end of the day) usually like or animals like them in some way. This is the person who always loves to hold their friends pets or feels like an aunt or uncle to others fur babies. Will pet animals on the street.

- I personally think voiceover astrological readings are wayyyyy more thorough and detailed than written or typed ones. But to each its on your learning something you know.

- Yes Sagittarius placements are the hidden people pleasers. Very outwardly focus. You want your thoughts to matter and who you are in the world to matter but in a way where it leads others. It’s a way to be validated but also validated for what they want not just what people like about them. They would rather instead of being called pretty and nice to be seen as a leader and wise (maybe both). If you value their opinions and let them be friendly to you. You’ll see they care very deeply about being validated not as free as a stereotypical sag sun sign but let it be in the 9th house or especially a Sag Moon. They want to be validated on a philosophical level mentally they please to know their worth, not just to be seen and in a relationship.

-I’m sorry but most people with Scorpio mars get around…sorry. Y’all always are sneaking and having some ACTIVE 👀 experiences in their life. Usually always moving with desires, one they connect on a spiritual or deep level they attach quick. So if their still talking to people or in a relationship I find them to wander when their spirit and deep level desires fade and have served their purpose. They also are just very passionate. They feel even when they don’t know how to flow or deal with their emotions. You will know if these people want you or especially want to F you. Trust me you will know.

- Virgos and Leos always skeptical and unbelieving in astrology but the first one to cry or want a reading when you prove them wrong.

- Why does everyone use astrology for fame and beauty all the time or want to look at the surface level of synastry?Let me elaborate, you say you want to know if you're gonna be famous? Why do you not have a career or a focus in mind. Hell why are you wanting to learn astrology but you refuse to study or look up different interpreters. Most information you all see is accessible if you are so hell bent on being what you think you are. First start with who are you and what makes you likable. If your so concerned if Timmy likes you, why don't you just google, study all aspects and pull up the composite, etc.

-Moon mars Synastry is a dupe. They either hate you or are entirely too handsy. But if you're lucky you are not just compatible but in tune with each other. You become intermingled into emotions spirit and creativity together. You will look good together or be good in theory but these two plants must merge peaceful. If your Synastry is chaotic or aspects conflict you will have some strong elusive emotions towards each other or one is surely to suffer if you let the dynamic play out for too long.

- Moon conjunct Uranus natal, especially if one or more planet is retrograde. Who never loved your parents and made them never show love and affection properly to you. Please figure that out before you internalize...

- Bro I don’t get jealous but if I did I would be jealous of Venus moon conjunction in general or in Libra. Y’all dress so nice, always look put together. There is style there and it’s usually distinct even if it’s not unique. You look good okay 🤷🏾‍♀️

- Sneaky sneaky Aquarius, always playing detached when you’re really psychologically (psychopathiclly) calculated and emotional. Water bearers I mean. Guard your emotions all you want. I and the rest can see you care through your actions. Even when you pretend you don’t. And revenge is still trying to emotionally hurt people!

- Water signs…yeah you question. What do you think about telling the truth just to be a good person. No need to think of pros and cons or what you’ll get out of it before. Simply just be brutally ✨ honest ✨

#astrology #synastry #persona chart #composite sun #birth chart #paid astrology #advanced astrology #astrology readings #astro community #astro placements #astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #harsh opinions #astrology opinions #spiritual services #spiritual healing #spiritually #spirituality

99 notes · View notes

figurantedefilme · 2 days ago

Text

— boyfriend!sam winchester headcanons.

pairing: sam winchester x gn!reader

summary: how sam would act if he were your boyfriend.

cw: friends to lovers, some details of romantic relationships, brief mentions of fighting, but lots of cuteness. poorly edited.

a/n: hiiii, so, these are some of my hcs of how sam would be dating his best friend ;)) these headcanons were very inspired by some of my favorite writers!! english isn't my first language. enjoy it ♡

— send me a request!! <3

▪︎ before you started dating, you were best friends, you did everything together. you were always in love with each other, you just hadn't realized it yet.

▪︎ dean always teased you about it, especially sam, saying he was too slow to not realize the obvious, you, of course, ignored it completely, thinking that the other didn't feel the same way or that you would never have the chance.

▪︎ after, this became difficult, hiding the heart-shaped looks whenever the other looked away, always trying to disguise it but failing miserably.

▪︎ sometimes you shared a bed and by some chance you woke up hugging or with your legs intertwined and this resulted in almost an entire day of tension, you barely talking to each other or making eye contact until you intended that nothing happened and continued to be the same as always. but then, unable to bear having to hide all this "unrequited" love any longer, one of you tries to distance yourself, thinking that these feelings could ruin your friendship and you don't want to lose each other's affection.

▪︎ this ends up leaving the other confused, thinking that they did something wrong, and doing everything to understand what is happening. after all this confusion, you understand each other, talk and finally confess your feelings to each other.

"i thought you hated me."

"i could never hate you, sammh. it's just that my love for you is so great that i couldn't stand being around you anymore."

"i ove you too, i'm so relieved about that, but promise me that you'll never hide anything again, no matter what it is."

"i promise."

▪︎ ever since you started dating, he always needs to touch you in some way, whether it's intimately or just holding your hand on a cold night. with that, know that he will never be able to sleep well again if he is not hugging you or at least with an arm around you.

▪︎ over time, he began to show his clingy side, sometimes needy just for your touch, your hands in his, or his somewhere on you, usually an arm on your shoulders or a hand on your hips.

▪︎ he also likes to always tell you how beautiful you are, that he loves you and how much you matter to him. even if he doesn't say it directly, he always tries to show it by doing something for you, even if it's small things like picking up your change of clothes when you take a shower, or when you're sick, he's by your side, available for whatever you need, buying you a drink that you like at the coffee shop, buying you a book that he knows you would like to read or simply paying attention when you talk, and making mental notes about little things that you do or like.

▪︎ he definitely loves it when you reciprocate or do similar things, in your way of showing your love for him.

▪︎ he won't admit it, but he feels so good when he sees you wearing his shirt, and how big it looks on you. he thinks the height difference between you is cute and sometimes he gets annoying.

▪︎ he's become more overprotective, but he tries not to suffocate you. this has also made him more worried about you during hunts, and the same goes for you.

▪︎ sometimes you fight because of his overprotectiveness, sometimes he doesn't want to let you go on a hunt because he thinks it's too dangerous and you get upset. dean tries to give sam advice about how he should stop trying to exclude you because you're too strong and can handle yourself, so he apologizes later and you're still a little upset, but then everything works out and everything's fine.

▪︎ dating sam can be complicated sometimes, especially as hunters, but you always support each other and know that everything will work out.

#dividers by cafekitsune #sam winchester #boyfriend! sam winchester #sage write!!#spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester supernatural #supernatural fic #sam winchester x reader fluff #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural headcanon #sam winchester headcanon #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fluff

62 notes · View notes

unwashedunsatisfiedmeowmeow · 3 days ago

Text

fanboy!Noah x idol!MC

"My personal hater" visual novel AU in which Noah is your most loyal fan.

(art by me)

So imagine that you're a popular idol who got famous not so long ago. You've been working towards this goal of yours for quite a time before you were finally aknowleged by the masses. You're very grateful for that and now you're using this popularity by working even harder! You make music after music after clip after clip and so on...

Eventually you grow tired. It was a matter of time when this will happen and deep down you knew that will happen sooner or later... But it appeared in such a problematic time. Live concerts, shooting music videos for your released songs as well as recording new songs to keep the fans "well fed"... To say that you were fucked in the ass by work (metaphorically) would be an underestimation at this point.

Despite having a big crew of professionals from different fields managing a lot of the tasks for you - it's still not enough to make you breathe out with ease. You're always on the verge of crashing out and running away for good. Things have gotten so bad that you start to regret becoming an idol - the only dream job you once thought was right for you.

One day you go back home as usual from a long day of work. You enter an elevator with a person in it without even looking at who it was. You didn't give a fuck at this point. And of course you looked like a mess. Not that cheerful and cute bbg you pretend to be for your hungry fans.

It was plain oversized clothes, medical mask, greasy hair and a tired look you had. You were spacing out and ready to sleep in that damn elevator as usual.

What an irony that the guy who was obviously your fan - wasn't noticed by you. But he on the other hand - recognized you right away, even if you didn't look your best. However instead of talking to you, Noah just stood there dumbfounded. His idol, the one he supported from the very start was in the same elevator as him!!!

"HOLY SHIT!!! FUCK, IS IT REALLY MC?! OH MY GOOOODDD!!!"

He is legit your first fan ever. He supported you with evverything he could support you with. Words of encouragement, binge listening to all your songs on repeat. He was even creating new accounts for that reason alone, so the platform you're releasing your songs in will promote them to other people. He also donated you fat coins whenever you decided to stream and to talk to your fans. Noah was the first one to buy all of your merch and wearing it (if it was possible).

Basically he was and still is your one and only true fan. He doesn't mind being called a simp by his friends and close ones either. After all, your music saved his life when he was really depressed and was planning on committing suicide. You will always be his cute little angel whether you like it or not.

Back to the elevator scene though:

Noah's breath hitched and he couldn't look away from you. For the first time in his life he saw you in real life! AND IT WAS ALONE IN THE ELEVATOR WITH HIM! Not in the fan meeting like he thought it would happen too?!

"It has to be fate. We're meant for each other! I knew we will meet sooner or later MC~"

Although he was itching to just tap your shoulder, feeling a little bit of your body and ask for an autograph with selfie, but he behaved himself. Why? Because Noah knows where you live now. It would be wasteful, to throw the chance of pretending to meet you naturally just for these temporary things.

He will save these requests of his for later, when you will be deep into the relationship with him.

Thanks for reading my AU drabble of Noah fanboy! Bye!

66 notes · View notes

arrowfleur · 1 day ago

Text

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

I’ve been pretty shit at writing and posting this past year, which is crappy because I enjoy it so I wanted to do something that was less pressure than writing fics but could still make people happy. I’ve put every main redacted couple - plus a few extras - on a spin wheel and will be writing a long list of HC’s each day depending on who I get :)

Anyways, Part 1: Lasko and Dear

Dear loves thrifting but they didn’t want to take Lasko with them at first in case he found something they wanted, before they did. Now they borrow each others clothes so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

When they eventually took him he spent the entire time trying to find things they liked.

Dear has two toned hair

Lasko has never stopped thinking that dear is the coolest person to ever walk the earth, ever.

Sometimes dear wears colour contacts for fun

Both of them have a pocket watch on a chain

For their first anniversary Dear bought Lasko a locket, with a picture of the entire Damn Squad in it.

He added a photo of them to the other side

Dear has pet rats, they take such good care of them and their cage is huge

Lasko was slightly weary at first but he warmed up to them pretty well

Dear is very good at fixing things.

One of the first times they went to his apartment, his Ac broke. Dear just calmly listened to his apologetic rant about it before asking where the toolbox was.

Dear has tattoos behind their ears

Lasko is very good at saving but he’s not tight and always tries to pay for the whole table.

Very rarely has he succeeded

Dear has a collection of paper boy hats.

Lasko wears earmuffs when it’s cold because he always gets earaches

Dear has curled their hair with coke cans before

They love old black and white movies

Lasko likes really crappy b-movies

Can’t be let down if you know it’s going to be bad before it starts

Dear can keep up very well with Damien’s academic discussions and sometimes debates him just for the sake of it. Damien enjoys the challenge.

Dear is not the biggest Christmas enjoyer but this year they’re looking forward to it.

Lasko has booked a couple of Christmas markets for them

Dear HATES the idea of a cruise. Not because of the ocean but because they can’t get off the boat once it sets off.

Lasko always takes those little pots of jam and the little shampoo/conditioner bottles whenever he goes to a hotel

Neither of them can ice skate well whatsoever

Lasko has and will continue to use those little penguins meant for children. Dear finds it fucking hilarious all while they’re clinging to the side of the rink themselves

They share grandpa jumpers

When they first started dating, dear would pretend to forget their lanyard so that lasko would have to go down and let them in.

They both wear lots of rings and love playing with each others hands

Lasko used to wear those fake glasses from Claire’s

Dear is so casually flirty with Lasko that he thought it was just their personality at first

That’s why they eventually just had to go into his office and straight up ask him out

Dear kisses Lasko’s nose often, especially when they’re saying goodbye to each other or he’s severely overthinking

Dear really enjoys those mugs that change colour when you put hot water in them

Lasko has an entire cupboard dedicated to board games

Dear was delighted

Dear reads random niche comics and webtoons

And they have a lot of figurines

Lasko is an unsweetened oat milk enjoyer!!

Dear inhales food like it’s nobody’s business

It doesn’t last five minutes on their plate

They also never get indigestion

Their go-to cocktail is an old fashioned

Lasko hates it

Dear will simply repeat what Lasko says in a teasing tone to fluster him

Or they’ll just randomly start acting like the weirdest story is sexy.

‘And then he, he told me they’d have to charge me more for these stupid tires that I didn’t even ask for!’

‘ and what did you say? 😏

‘Well I- I told him,

‘ did you stick up for yourself? 😏😏

‘ well I told him I wasn’t going to pay for it’

*dear looking him up and down’

‘Good job, I don’t like it when other play dirty with you’

And they’re making out, Lasko doesn’t know how they do it they just have a way. It literally doesn’t even make sense.

Lasko’s hair grows incredibly quick. He shaves ALOT.

His skins is also so beautiful, it’s so soft and clear and glowy.

Dear has acne scars and they do little skincare nights together but Lasko thinks they’re HOT AS FUCK

Okay that’s all, also my proof that I got these guys first

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #arrowsqueue #redactedverse #redacted lasko #redacted dear

52 notes · View notes

sapphic-kpop-fics · 2 days ago

Note

yunjin nsfw alphabet??

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Jen is a big kind softie we know this so she helps clean you up if needed and then cuddles you for hours.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Her legs and Her fingers, they have one thing in common: Long, need i explain

She’s a boob girl, change my mind. Oral fixation on your chest.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves tasting you more than anything and will eat for out for hours simply so she can taste you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wears your clothes when you’re apart and she has to touch herself to get off

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Yes 100%

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Yunjin needs you to ride her every week for her mental health (her words)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This is the Huh Yunjin we’re talking about, the goofiest human alive, of course that translates into your sex life, nights in bed definitely involve a lot of giggling

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not fully shaved but well kept, girl dyes her hair every month of course it doesn’t match

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

The most romantic and loving human being ever, expect 100% romance

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She will if you’re apart from each other for too long but prefers having you, if she does she’ll usually call or text you during because she simply needs you in some form to finish.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

She strikes me as the type to like choking you, like I said she likes her fingers especially wrapped around your neck. Also a praise kink, loves being told she’s fucking you good.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed so she can easily have her way with you but the shower is also a favorite of hers especially pressing your soapy body against the wall as she fucks you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally just being in your presence and looking at you, anytime you’re around she’s immediately turned on. A lover girl for real. But especially when you compliment her and her talents.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Doesn’t want to hit you or hurt you too bad, maybe some spanking but anything on the face is off limits. Also anything you don’t want is something she doesn’t want.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh, god of pussy eating. Have you seen that face? Those lips? Incredible. Makes you finish is minutes. Gets pussy drunk often and eats you out for hours no matter how sensitive you are.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough however she gets romantic and slow often making sure to switch things up.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Enjoys them when really horny at the wrong times or in between music shows but she likes to go 3 rounds minimum which isn’t very quick.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Will try anything you want to try but makes boundaries clear.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She can last a while usually though she has moments where she cums in minutes. Definitely has big stamina when it comes to rounds, as I said 3 minimum but sometimes she fucks you for 5+ hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely, a few probably. Specifically a strap (we all know my thoughts on strap Yunjin 🤤)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The biggest tease usually, unless she’s being intimate and romantic then she gives you whatever you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

She strikes me as a not loud in a volume way but just talks a lot (girls a yapper we knew). Little sighs and moans are the most she makes when receiving along with heavy breathing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves cockwarming (well strap warming but also when she’s wearing it, that is her dick for sure.)

X= X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

As we can tell from pictures, legs/thighs are insane (a great place to ride), boobs….if I speak.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. Will fuck you anytime you ask.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly but makes sure you’re okay and taken care of first, cleaning you up and helping you put on some clothes before you both pass out.

#kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop smut #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim #le serrafim yunjin #le sserafim smut #le sserafim imagines #huh yunjin imagines #huh yunjin #huh yunjin smut #yunjin imagines #yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin smut

50 notes · View notes

zuzuelectricbugaloo · 2 hours ago

Text

Hold Me When I Stand

Pairing: Cross/Epic

Rating: Teen

Synopsis: Inspired by the Drabble idea I wrote a while back and the GORGEOUS art @toffeebrews made, Epic finally reveals why Cross had never seen his hands bare before, until now.

CW: None I can think of, but do let me know if there should be one

Part 1 of 3: Wuh Oh, Trauma

Word Count: 5, 490

Best friends notice everything about each other.

Everything, from blatant details like disliking ketchup (except when mixed with chocolate)--

Cross’s face scrunched up as Delta and Color knocked their bottles of ketchup together before they tilted their skulls back and chugged. “You guys are gross.” They laughed at his “skrunkly” expression, as Epic called it.

–to bright, bubbly laughter tumbling out in jubilant “mwehs” when truly relaxed.

Epic watched as Cross laughed, breath catching in his throat as Cross laughed so hard he cried, mirthful tears welling in the edges of his sockets and mana painted his cheekbones like lilac flower kisses.

To preferring bandanas over ascots because bandanas “are cooler ‘cause they’re like badass mini scarves”.

Epic kept track of it all. Whenever he discovered chocolate with a(n) unusual ingredient(s), a delighted smile on a cherished face would enter his mind, and the now unimportant cost was promptly brushed aside. That bright laughter his friend was ashamed of made Epic swear he glowed with the light of his Soul. And occasionally, he’d sew matching bandanas that Cross would wear on his neck while Epic adorned his own atop his skull.

But Epic was not the only one who adored his best friend.

Along with observing and noting the more obvious details, there were also more subtle nuances, like despising grass stains due to constant difficulty with clothes–

Epic holds up a pair of tan lace up boots now decorated in murky green splotches. “Look Color, I like hangin’ with ya, but if I gotta get a new pair of boots from one more hike I’m gonna lose it man.”

–and channeling that annoyance into an insult.

“Delta you grass stain you keep that battery acid out of my cookie dough right the flip now or I’m gonna snick snack paddywhack kick yo’ sorry sunny d ass!” Epic warned. He kept the bowl of his precious cookie dough out of reach from his friend with one hand and smacking Delta’s offending claw with the other.

Or always wearing gloves no matter the occasion.

Were his hands covered in nicks and scars like Cross’s claws? Did he simply enjoy the feeling of smooth leather on his bones? Was it a comfort like his bandanas were for him?

Or staring at mirrors with phalanges gripping the socket edges of a rarely opened scarred left eye, expression so dark and twisted and in startlingly contrast to the usual bright and playful grin that adorned those pretty bones.

Best friends notice everything about each other.

Cross watches as Epic rubs his eyes when he thinks Cross isn’t looking. His hands fall from his exhausted face, tired shadows painting his hooded eyes mauve, adding an alluring, faux smokey look that makes his snow white and electric violet eyelights pop.

Epic makes crippling exhaustion look hauntingly beautiful, like the ghost of sleep is forever trying to sink its claws in, success held so high out of reach the spirit never managed to grasp it. The way the shadows dance and light cradles Epic’s face, draping themselves over the contours of smooth ivory bone is like he's a painting come to life, of exhausted reverie so beautiful Cross knows without doubt the sight will haunt him for all the nights to come.

And when Epic glances over at him and his scarred Eye closes but his smile brightens, Cross’s chest floods with affectionate warmth as his best friend’s eyes glitter, terribly fond and enviably beautiful in its endearing glow. Cross quickly turns away, his smile strangely quirked at the corners and Soulbeat just a little faster to have been caught staring.

It’s only a matter of time before they learn everything about each other, too.

“Ah shit,” Epic cursed. He turned off the stove and glared at the offending sauce pan that had the audacity of bubbling and splattering itself, now coating the countertop, his sweater, and leather gloves in a greasy disaster zone of oil. “That was my last clean pair…”

“Here,” Cross picked up the towel and started to scrub the mess on the counter. “I can clean up while you change.”

“Alright, thanks bruh.” Epic was about to offer his fist for a bump before he reconsidered and sheepishly tilted his head to the side instead. Luckily Cross understood and leaned forward to softly bonk their skulls together.

“No worries dude.”

While Epic changed, Cross went ahead and threw out the oil. He’d burned his cooking enough times to realize that it had been burned beyond salvation and tossed it out. Scrubbing the pan and letting it soak while he wiped down the countertop was menial, almost relaxing as he methodically wiped and washed off the sullied kitchen area.

By the time Epic returned Cross was scrubbing his claws dry. He leaned back on the counter behind him while he waited for him to finish. “Ty man, oil spills are so annoying to clean up.”

Eh, not really. Out of all the things he’s had to clean, oil splatters on a countertop was nothing, in his opinion. Nowhere near as difficult as, say, getting chocolate stains or gunpowder out of his clothes. “De nada.”

Epic made a little noise of protest and reached out to him.

“Here lemme get that.” He held out his hand.

Cross handed him the towel. “Thanks. By the way, do you wanna go out later and–” he trailed off, noticing that Epic was wearing the same leather gloves.

As Epic put the towel in the laundry, Cross gave his best friend a quick, perplexed once-over. He’d changed out of his cable-knit sweater and now wore a new, form-fitting turtleneck that hugged his lush curves. He had the hood up (as usual) but now wore his long-sleeved jacket instead of trenchcoat. His lovely friend was dressed as pleasingly as ever, nothing odd there.

What was odd was that Epic still had on the same pair of leather gloves. That covered the leather in greasy splotches that made Cross’s own claws itch in sympathy.

Cross quirked a brow. “Forget something parce?”

“Uh,” Epic tilted his skull to the side. “Oh!”

He leaned forward suddenly, but Cross is used to them sharing each other’s personal bubbles and doesn’t react. It’s only when Epic’s throat vibrates in a low, rising hum and he presses a quick, appreciative peck on Cross’s cheek that the soldier shivers while his cheekbones burn with lilac mana and his Soul flutters.

“Mmmmwah!” Epic pulled back with cheeks dusted indigo. His unscarred eye crinkles into an upturned crescent when he smiles. “Thanks for cleaning.”

“¿Qué estás haciendo—” Cross sputtered “—your gloves, dude!”

“What about ‘em?”

“What about — they're dirty!”

“Yuh, an’ I’ll change ‘em later, no worries,” Epic dismissed. “I need to do laundry so I’ll change ‘em later.”

“Okay?” Epic was no slob. He showered daily, always used those scented soaps that made Cross forcibly resist the urge to noticeably inhale his scent, usually wore some kind of floral perfume or cologne, and always changed his gloves whenever they were dirty. Sure Cross never saw him do that, but he’d always seen Epic return with a new pair. So, why was he being so hesitant now?

…Come to think of it, had Cross ever seen Epic take his gloves off?

“You’re not gonna change them?”

“Naaaah.”

Flummoxed, Cross watched Epic step pass him and wash his hands, gloves and all, in the sink. Epic shook his hands off and patted them dry on a new towel. “See? All clean now.”

Epic popped the fridge door open and rummaged through it. Cross stood beside him, increasingly confused as Epic planned aloud. “I messed up the sauce and haveta start from scratch but I’m still cravin’ souped up ramen. How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah sure whichever — what’re you doing dude?”

Cradling bundles of food Epic deposited them down on the kitchen counter. Cross shut the door behind him and followed closely as Epic started to prep. His soaked gloves glistened.

“Well I burned the OG so now I gotta make another—”

Cross put his hand over Epic’s, stopping him from peeling the garlic. Epic lets go of the peeler to hold Cross’s hand in his, and Cross warms at how readily Epic dismisses his previous task in favor of Cross holding him.

“Here,” Cross curls his distal phalanx in to catch at the end of the glove. “Let’s take this—” the moment his phalanx caught on the leather rim Epic jolted, roughly yanking his hand away like Cross had burned him.

Cross’s chest grew tight and his hand felt empty but Epic ignored the flash of hurt that flew across his face and kept his face hidden so Cross couldn’t see the guilt and regret and fear. Avoiding his gaze, he kept his back turned to Cross as he resumed his meal prep.

“I told you it’s fine. It’ll dry off in no time.”

What the hell?

The rejection stung. Epic might as well have stabbed him in the chest, his Soul ached like he had.

Frustration bubbles amid the hurt he hates that his first response when he’s hurt is to be angry, he’s never liked it especially when he knows he wasn’t always an angry man and Cross’s previously soft eyelights narrow into sharp slits.

“Come on dude just take it off.”

Epic’s shoulders were hunched as he chopped the garlic and ginger. His magic illuminated the kettle, setting the water to boil with a flick.

“No, I don’t want to. It’s fine.” Cross tried to reach for his hand but Epic side-stepped him, gracefully dodging just out of reach as he reached for the soy sauce. “Don’t stress it.”

But Cross was a persistent bastard. “Dude, come on.”

This time when Epic started to pour the boiling water he glared at Cross’s missed swipe, beginning to feel irritated himself.

“Again, just drop it.”

Cross grabbed the instant noodles before Epic could. His best friend stared, unimpressed, with a pursed frown. “Really?”

“Yes really,” Cross’s frown deepened.

“Brah, it’s fine. I’ll change ‘em later, okay?” Epic poked Cross right where he knew the other was ticklish, surprising him enough to snatch the noodles back and add them to the broth. “Jus’ not now.”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not!” Epic protested.

Cross quirked a brow. “You’re being weird right now,” he retorted.

The two locked gazes. Epic’s phalanges drummed against the countertop. Cross held the block of cheddar he needed to shred within his crossed arms. The soldier counted on time; Epic needed to get the cheese in before the noodles softened or else they would be too mushy (Epic taught him that).

Like Cross expected, Epic relented first. He sighed and closed his eye. “OK, fine. I’ll go change them.”

He could just do it here? But at least it was something.

Pleased, Cross nodded, uncrossing his arms to swiftly shred the cheese and throw it into the pan. “Thank you.”

“Keep an eye on the broth?”

“And I’ll throw in the seasonings too, I got it.” Cross opened the packets. Epic nodded gratefully.

He vanished in a spark of magic.

Cross cracked a couple eggs to add to the broth and closed the lid, setting it to a medium low slimmer to slow cook the eggs. He didn’t mind if it was overcooked or not, but he remembered that Epic’s favorite way to eat them was when the yolks were runny. When Epic returned a few minutes later, this time wearing long, rubber gloves that he often wore for washing the dishes, Cross contemplated whacking him with the pan.

“¿Hablas en serio?”

“Sinabi ko na sayo,” Epic chirped, his smug little grin annoyingly charming. He set out two bowls for them both, carefully pouring the ramen into each, the eggs jiggling but remaining unbroken atop the noodles. “It’s not a big deal, I just like wearing gloves.”

Cross knew his best friend. There was something more to this. His Soul could feel it. He accepted the chopsticks Epic handed him to softly set them down. “Epic,” his best friend pauses mid-scoop of his dish, “seriously, why are you being so cagey about this?”

A horrible, gnawing thought. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

There. Right there.

Epic’s face was the same, he’d always had an impeccable poker face, but it was his eye. The beautiful glow of that ivory orb dimmed.

Epic fidgeted. Slowly taking a single, small bite and chewing without reaching for more.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt your hands or something?”

“No, no,” Epic murmured, “I’m not hurt.”

Okay, good. He was being more open.

Cross continued his gentle questioning. “Is it a tattoo?”

That got a little snort out of Epic. He covered his mouth to hide it, but Cross had heard the bubbly laugh and his own chest felt lighter. “Cross, come on. Y’know the only tats I’ve gotten are the silly temp ones.”

Delighted that his dear friend was cheering up, the soldier persisted. “It can’t be that bad.” Cross hummed in thought. “What? You got drunk and got a tramp stamp but it’s in your hand? Wait…” Cross paused. “Do you have a tramp stamp?”

Epic guffawed. “Stars, no. Maybe a temp one as a joke but nah. Definitely no tats on this guy, sorry bud.”

A smile quirked at Cross’s mouth. He was glad Epic had relaxed. But he knew he had to keep trying. Softly, he keeps his voice as neutral but gentle as he can when he inquires “Is it a scar?”

“I,” Epic faltered. “Huh. IDK, actually,” he admitted. He sets the chopsticks down and sighs, wiping his mouth off with a napkin. Finally, he meets Cross’s eyes. Carefully, he murmured, “Technically, might be more of a mutilation than a scar.”

“Okay?” Epic wasn’t missing any digits and his hands looked intact. “Anything like my gaps from my scars? Those aren’t that bad,” Cross reassured.

Epic smiled, but it was sad and empty.

Cross wanted to cradle his face and hold him until the light returned to his eye.

“I think you’d hate it if you saw it.”

Finally, things started to make a little more sense. “And that’s why you won’t take off your gloves in front of people? In front of me?” Cross guessed. “Because you think it’s something horrible enough to be hated?”

Epic winced. “Especially if you saw, yeah, man, and I don’t—” he stopped, a flicker of fear passing in his eye before he turned away. “I don’t want you to see me differently. T-to hate me,” he confessed, his voice silencing to a whisper at the end.

At once, Cross felt himself soften, his Soul impossibly warm and affectionate. “Oh, mi mejor amigo,” Cross placed his claw over Epic’s hand. “I could never hate you.”

Epic slowly lifts his gaze. “...”

“You don’t have to show me, or say why.” He squeezed his hand before he let go, missing how Epic curled the touched hand inward into the wooden table when he picked up his chopsticks. “It’s deep personal stuff. You don’t have to talk about any of that, I get it. I was just worried about you, but I get it now. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Epic stared at his ramen, expression indecipherable while his thoughts warred inside his mind. “Thanks.”

Epic was unnaturally quiet for the duration of their meal. They sat in companionable silence and enjoyed their comfort food. While Epic mulled over his thoughts, his gloved hand idly rubbing over the other, Cross was grateful his best friend had opened up to him, and kept his word, letting Epic have his space.

When they finished, Epic’s body moved on autopilot and followed Cross to the sink. There, he washed the dishes for the day—he had on the rubber gloves for it anyway, heh—and Cross washed his claws before taking the place on his other side with a towel in hand. Epic would scrub them clean, then rinse off the soap, and hand off the wet dish to Cross, who’d dry them off and put them back in their place.

There wasn’t a lot to go through, and in hardly any time at all, there’s only one plate left. Epic stares at it, gaze far off and distant. After a few moments have passed, Cross is about to regain Epic’s attention and ask for the plate. Only for Epic to speak and inquire something at the same time.

“Hey, do you want me to get tha—”

“Do you still wanna see?”

They both stare. Heh, whoops.

Cross cleared his false throat. “Sorry, what was that?”

Epic handed him the plate. He dried it off. As his back is turned while he sets it back in the cupboard, Epic repeats his earlier question.

“I asked if you still wanna see.”

“Oh,” Cross closes the cabinet door and turns to look at him. “I am curious,” he professed, “but you’re not obligated to tell me or show me anything, man.”

“Samesies, bruh, but I,” Epic wished he had some gum or jolly rancher or something to chew on. His Soul beat quicker as his eye darted away from Cross’s face and back. “I…if anyone ever saw, or, or knew…I’d want it to be you, Cross.”

He…doesn’t know how to react to that, really, what could he say? What should he say?

All he can do is stare at an unusually demure Epic, the way Epic looked at him, eyelight soft with ardor and glittering pearlescent under the phosphorescent light.

It wasn’t uncommon that he found himself like this because of Epic: breathless and lost while his Soul batted insistently beneath his ribs.

Tongue-tied, he nods. “Oh, thanks. You too.”

Stars, he was such a dumbass.

Glancing at the front door, Epic squeezed his hand over the other. “Is it okay if we do this in my room? I don’t want Delta or Color or someone ‘porting in and seeing. Or hearing,” he added.

Cross nodded in understanding. “Yeah dude, whatever’s more comfy for you.”

He followed Epic up the familiar path of stairs to his room. Everything is mostly clean and tidy from when they last hung out here, and he settled comfortably atop the bed. He’d always appreciated how Epic kept his bedroom neat for his sake, especially the bed.

One of his pet peeves was untidy beds, but Epic’s blankets and pillows — along with a few plushies — were arranged in an aesthetic way, pleasantly scratching that itch of despising unkempt habitude.

After double checking to make sure the door was shut and locked, Epic soon joined him, plopping down beside him with a sigh. He leaned back to rest his skull and back against the wall.

“‘Kay. So, uh,” Epic fiddled with his rubber covered digits. “I guess I ought just get it outta the way, yeah?” Cross’s eyelights flit from the rubber material to his tired eye as he spoke. “…Promise you’ll try not to hate me?”

Slowly, digits curled around the top of the glove.

Exasperated and a little irked that Epix would think Cross would ever hate his best friend, he opened his mouth to reply—

—only to freeze when the glove is peeled back and Cross sees Epic’s uncovered palms for the first time.

He was expecting a gash or two, maybe something long and big since most people disliked scars, but he dumbly realized Epic had been right to describe it as a ‘mutilation’. There, in the center, it was just…gone.

The other glove came off, joining the other somewhere off to the side of the bed. Cross paid it no mind, gaze zeroed in on the holes.

His palms were hollowed. But how could it have happened? The circles were too neat, too precise to have been accidental.

The only other skeleton he’d known with holes in their palms was Gaster, and it was because of his experiments—oh.

With increasing clarity, Cross’s eyes trailed up Epic’s hands to his face. His expression was carefully blank as he waited, observing Cross’s reaction with fearful intensity.

“Did he?” He can’t bring himself to say it.

A slow nod. “Yeah. Both of ‘em.” His hands rubbed over the other, fist clenching and unclenching as Epic glanced away. “First time was to make the—make something. Second time was to try to get the first failure to work better. It didn’t. So, now I’ve got these two “donut holes”, but all hole and no donut.”

Cross missed his joke, too focused on his hands. “Do they hurt?” Epic shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t feel anything. Kinda sensitive if they’re touched but otherwise I try to ignore them if I can.”

Cross holds out his claws. “Can I?”

His friend stared at his claws, then him. After a pause, Epic slowly blinked, and then he nodded. “Okay.”

Cross gently takes Epic’s hand in his. Ungloved, it feels strange to hold him but not unwelcome. There’s a hum of magic around the cored palm. Not unwelcome, per say, but it made it easier to feel Epic’s Intent. More concentrated maybe? He circled the rim with a claw and Epic shuddered, mouth parting in a low gasp.

“Does it hurt?”

He shook his head. His cheekbones were dusted indigo. “It’s just…strange? Touch and Intent is uh. More potent around it, I guess?” Epic’s brows furrowed in thought. “Huh. Like, just that feels like you’re hugging me.”

“Really?” Intrigued, Cross pressed more firmly on the rim, pressing into the textured but no less smooth bone, purposefully pouring in more of his Intent in the fond touch.

Okay?/Okay?/Feel okay/You’re still the same/Still mine/Okay?

His hand jolted within Cross’s grasp, Epic’s breath stuttered and ragged, the small, surprised noise he made caught in his throat. Cross looked up, worried he’d hurt him, and Epic’s eye was wide with unshed tears.

He immediately pulled away from the hole to lace their fingers together instead. A comforting handhold to hopefully soothe and amend his misstep. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good, I’m good. It’s just so…intense,” Epic husks, “That time it. Uh, maybe leave ‘em alone, I think. ‘s not bad,” he quickly reassured. “Just a lot.”

Hearing Epic’s deep voice so utterly breathless and dazed sends a thrill down his spine and he shoves that feeling deep down and refuses to acknowledge it maybe later when he’s alone he can process how and why he feels like that.

“O-okay. Like what?”

His hand absentmindedly squeezes Cross’s as he thought. “I guess them being exposed is like, hmm.” Epic paused. “Okay, you ever summoned your body?”

He often did it for training, fighting, whatever. Cross nodded. “Yeah?”

“Right, and you know when the magic is still connected to the inner mana networks on the inside, but is also starting to form and spread from that mainframe to your external body?”

“Uh huh.”

“It feels like you're touching that.”

“Oh.” He slowly nodded, trying to imagine experiencing it himself. “Okay.”

Epic’s voice gentles into something unbearably soft that it coaxes his own mana out to burn lilac on his zygomas. “And you put your kind Intent in that, might as well have been sent right to my Soul.”

“Oh. Well, I meant it, and you feel what I mean, right?” Epic nods, and Cross—

“Yeah, I get it. I’m always gonna be your best friend too, Cross.” His thumb caressed the back of his claw. “I feel and know it.”

Lungs without function shudder around an unnecessary breath.

It's impossible to ever tire of hearing those words. That he’d always be Epic’s best friend, that Epic would always care for him no matter what. Despite everything that had happened, despite losing his memories and rebuilding their friendship anew, Epic never once stopped caring, never once gave up on Cross.

All his life, he’d been a failure. A disappointment. Never something worth carrying for because he didn’t live up to whatever expectation or use someone had for him.

Not as a son, not as an older brother, not as a friend, and not even as a weapon.

Always, Epic was exactly what he needed and wanted and he wanted to pull him close and taste—

Cross cleared his throat. “Same, dude.” He bonked his skull with Epic’s. “Always.”

Epic seemed to be ruminating on something else, the hand not held by Cross’s was stroking his scarred eye, distal phalanges trailing the line.

“There’s probably one more thing you oughta know, Cross.”

The soldier nodded. “Whatever it is, it changes nothing between us,” determined, his hold tightened on Epic. “I promise,” he vowed.

Epic stared at him, his carpals and metacarpals covering his scarred eye. He took a deep, slow breath. “Stars, I hope so,” he murmured so quietly he almost missed it.

When Epic’s hand left his face, both his eyes were open.

White and violet orbs stared into Cross’s own orbs.

“You’ve seen me open it when I fight,” Cross nodded silently, “but otherwise I try to keep it hidden.”

Why? He still looked fine as ever to Cross.

“That’s why I always keep it closed if I can or never let anyone see me without gloves. ‘Cause everytime I see this Eye, see my hands,” his best friend’s face contorts, burning with a hatred so cold and dark that a shiver travels down his spine. “I’m reminded of that, that putang ina,” Epic cursed. Everytime I look at myself or look at my stupid hands, all I see is him.”

“Epic, you—”

“You don’t get it. He ruined me, Cross.”

He'd always been a failure. But he made him into an abomination.

Tears well in Epic’s sockets and Cross was certain he must have a physical heart because he could feel it break. “I can’t sleep. No, literally. I literally don’t sleep.”

His bed was always so neat and tidy…

Like it was hardly (or never) used.

Epic trembles, his voice shaking but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “Every single damn time I fall unconscious, the Eye channels magic from the Void and creates these creatures, horrible demons that if I don’t kill them first they kill me. Every. Single. Time.”

But then, that would mean… “Is that how you have LV?” Epic nods, his shadowed face riddled with exhaustion.

“Yeah. But if I don’t do it, I die. And dying doesn’t even take me out of that place. My body has to wake up.”

“I’ve gotten better at it,” he admitted. “I hardly die anymore, now. But I’m always tired, and there’s nothing I can do to feel totally good and awake. But I’m so done,” the tears finally fall, glistening as they travel down porcelain bone. “I’m so, so tired, Cross. Sometimes,” Epic falters. “Sometimes…I just want it to end. And just lay down and never wake up again, if it meant it would finally stop.”

There are too many times where he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing even when he had the best intentions at heart.

Always Sometimes, it feels like all Cross is good at is hurting.

His friends.

“Frisk! What have you done, you idiot?!”

“I’ll Reset the world and make things right.”

His family.

“B-Brother…”

“My name is Cross!"

The ones he loved.

“Long time no see bruh! I barely recognized you in that weird outfit!”

“BACK OFF!”

If he wasn’t used for someone else’s convenience, all he could do was hurt.

But this time,

Epic lifts his head up when Cross gently pulls the hand tugging at his scarred socket out.

He won’t.

He was full of DETERMINATION.

“Dying’s easy for us, huh?” Epic laughed bitterly.

“I’ll say.”

“It’d be so easy,” Cross continued. “To kill for you, to die for you.”

Epic’s hand is cold in his burning claws. But together they are warm.

“In a Soulbeat.” Epic agreed.

“But I want to live for you, too.”

“Living is grief, and we die anyway,” Epic pointed out. His lovely eyes are dim, glow duller than their usual brilliant light.

He didn’t disagree. “Always mourning what could’ve been, what won’t be, what we can’t save.”

“It’ll never stop.” Epic closed his eyes. “No matter how hard we try or want it to.”

But there were so many reasons to keep trying anyway, so many little reasons to keep going.

“At the very least,” Epic sighed. “I’ve got used to dealing with it after two decades.” He glared down at his hollowed palms. “I just wish I didn’t look like him, too.” He seemed to deflate, shoulders hunching in as he’s unable to meet Cross’s gaze. “It’s why I thought you’d freak out or hate m—hate it, ‘cause it looks like Gaster and I know he was just as shitty to you, too, a-and I didn’t want you to see him when you look at me—”

His self-depreciative tirade slows when Cross gently takes his hands in his and turns them over, slowly running his phalanges around and over his cored palms phalanges while Epic anxiously waits for his reaction.

And Cross just looks at him, soft and sweet, humming as he replies. “I don’t see Gaster. I only see you.” And he lances their hands together and brings Epic’s palm to his mouth.

His eyes watch Epic’s as he purposefully presses the tip of the hollowed crevice to his teeth in a gentle kiss, mindful of his Intent and force of his touch. “And my best friend is beautiful.”

“Even my Eye?” Cross nods, reaching out to cup his face and stroke his zygomatic arch with his thumb.

“Did I ever tell you, purple’s my favorite color?” Epic shakes his head. “It’s because of you.”

Epic stared at him in disbelief. “No, really. I used to hate it, hate my ecto, because it was always red until XGaster overwrote me, and it never went back.”

But now he matches his best friend, who to him, has the loveliest shade of purple he’s ever seen. A vibrant, vivacious violet, glittering like a twilight sky and brighter than all the cosmos.

“I’m your favorite?” Epic softly bumped his head with his, and Cross nuzzled him back, smiling softly into his eyes.

“Always. Like cookies and chocolate.”

“Sugar and spice.”

“Peanut butter and jelly.”

“Sushi and soy sauce.”

“Heheh,” he chuckles under his breath. “Just two peas in a pod,” Epic quips. His grin falls slightly at the corner. “But you mean it? I don’t look like him?”

“I only see you, Epic.” He promised. “Mi mejor amigo.”

The tired but dazzling smile that flutters then blooms across Epic’s expression reminds him of the field of lilacs from his AU, of the savory sweet taste of pimplom pie baked with love, of violet butterflies' graceful wings unfurling above the flowers like paint across a canvas. The picture it paints is bright and beautiful, of home and safety and peace so deep that he yearns with all his heart and Soul. A true work of art, it brightens the room and melts his fluttering Soul that blooms with warmth, like blooming flowers and fluttering butterflies.

They’re so close that Epic had only to tilt his skull to the side and gently press closer to set Cross ablaze, the point of contact sparking and shooting out through his body with electric bursts of magic.

The kiss was brief, only a tiny moment of time where Epic had nuzzled against him, but it was a euphoric eternity to his jubilant Soul.

When Epic broke away to rest into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around him, Cross was grateful he couldn’t see the way his entire skull flushed soft, luminous lilac.

“Thank you.” It’s whispered like a secret. And Cross knows he’s been entrusted with more than a secret.

For once, he didn’t hurt.

For once, he lov—cared for someone, and he didn’t hurt them.

When he returned his embrace, it was with the comfort that he held his world in his arms, safe and adored.

It’s gradual, but Cross noticed when Epic began to keep his gloves off. Whenever they were alone, he’d take them off without a word. Only reaching out for Cross’s hand and finding his unanswered plea accepted without a moment of hesitance. And soon it grew from an occasional happenstance to a daily occurrence.

It won’t be until several weeks later that Epic would feel safe and comfortable enough to do the same around Delta and Color.

And he would’ve never been able to without the courage all of Cross’s love and support had given him.

Cross watched Epic chat with Color, animatedly waving the hand not laced with the soldier’s in the air as he emphasized his point. The conversation went unheard, lost to him, as he focused only on a bright smile and hands openly displaying hollowed palms.

One down, he thought, unaware of the besotted smile he wore as he stared at Epic’s closed, scarred Eye. One to go.

Shoutout to my lovely moot @sirsquidsalot for help writing how hauntingly beautiful Epic is! I just couldn't phrase the paragraph quite right and they were so helpful to get that final revision. Please check out their lovely writing!

Translations:

De nada -- Spanish for "no problem"/"you're welcome"

parce -- Spanish for "buddy"/"friend"

Mi mejor amigo -- Spanish for "My best friend"

¿Qué estás haciendo -- Spanish for "What are you doing?"

“¿Hablas en serio?” -- Spanish for "Are you serious?"

Sinabi ko na sayo — Tagalog for “I already told you”

Putang ina — Tagalog for “Son of a bitch/bastard”

#crepic #cross sans #epic sans #my writing

47 notes · View notes

evenyvn · 19 hours ago

Text

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄. — detective!alhaitham x troublemaker male!reader

chapter 01 : rain and interrogation.

cw : lowercase intended. mentioned of harrasment.

previous. — masterlist. — next.

read original work.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ [ UTC ] ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

　　　　rain poured down heavily outside the police station, soaking the empty streets and sidewalks of the city. the sound of water droplets hitting the metal roof and glass windows made the atmosphere feel silent, only interrupted by the occasional clap of thunder in the distance.

street lights reflected light on puddles of water that began to pool on the edge of the sidewalk. behind the office windows, several officers seemed busy with their work, while the roar of the rain that never stopped—as if adding to the impression of silence and seriousness. the smell of wet soil and humid air added to the tension, as if a sign that something was happening out there.

on one of the police officers' desks, a 25-year-old man with (h/c) hair sat casually on a chair right in front of the desk, his legs is crossed, and his arms folded in front of his chest.

his slightly wrinkled clothes seemed to contrast with the serious atmosphere around him. with a tight black shirt that showed off his broad chest and a slightly wet leather jacket hanging on the back of his chair.

a police officer sits across from him gave the man a tired gaze, as if he was already very familiar with the man's behavior. "so, you're causing a commotion again, huh (m/n)?" the policeman said, his voice flat, as if he was no longer surprised by the man's behavior. the man called '(m/n)' smiled slightly, seeming not to be in a hurry.

"i know, i know. i often cause trouble. But this time is different, sir—those fucking bastards were harrassing an innocent lady." he answered in a relaxed tone, almost as if he was telling a story to a friend, and not in an interrogation room.

the policeman took a deep breath. "you say that every time, right? but why does it always end here?" the man shrugged, his expression remaining calm, even too calm. "it can't be helped, sir. if i don't step in, who else will help that lady? sometimes, other people are too much of a cowards to interfere in such matters."

some officers who passed by glanced and shook their heads, they had seen this man's face appear in the police station too often. from small cases to bigger problems. the atmosphere became a little tense, but also not free from boredom. most of people in this police station already knew that this man, although he was here often, had a different perspective.

he came with seemingly noble reasons, but the methods he chose always got him into trouble.

"acting like a hero on the streets won't always solve the problem, you know?" the policeman said while staring at (m/n) sharply, but there was a tired tone in his voice. "but yeah, we're used to it... cases like this never get solved, right?"

(m/n) laughed softly. "Sometimes we just have to get down to business. i can't just stay still." the man said casually as he lean back on his chair.

the police station door opened with a soft squeak. a tall man stepped in, wearing a dark suit that was slightly wet from the rain and a pair of rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

alhaitham, a detective with fair skin and gray hair, entered the room with calm and calculated steps. although not so striking in appearance, the mysterious and firm aura that surrounded him was enough to make people around him turn away, even without him saying a word.

he passed several tables with a sharp gaze, as if reading every corner of the room and every little detail that might be missed by ordinary eyes. the atmosphere that was initially lively suddenly became quieter when several police officers who were busy typing or talking glanced at each other, realizing his presence.

(m/n) who was sitting on a chair with folded arms and a relaxed expression, suddenly turned his head, his eyes catching the figure of Alhaitham who had just stepped in. unconsciously, he noticed the detective's movements-his presence that was different from ordinary people made him curious.

alhaitham did not realize that he had been watched by the man with (h/c) hair, he seemed used to other people's gazes on him. he seemed busy checking the files at the reception desk, ignoring the hustle and bustle around him for a moment. however, the man who just got involved in a fight continued to look at him with curiosity clearly visible on his eyes.

"who is he, sir?" (m/n) finally asked in a low tone, his relaxed voice breaking the silence that enveloped the police station.

the officer sitting in front of him just shrugged, used to such questions. "that's alhaitham, a detective who is sometimes assigned here. he works mostly alone, i heard he is a genius who has solved cases so perfectly."

the troublemaker of a man nodded slowly, eyes still focused on alhaitham who continued to move around the room. "no wonder... there's a different... vibes. it seems, this guy is not just anyone," he muttered, more to himself, but loud enough for the officers nearby to hear.

alhaitham's green eyes that were focused on the file suddenly caught the man's figure. for a moment, the two of them stare at each other, although no words were spoken. alhaitham realized the gaze, but he did not show any excessive reaction. he just continued his work, as if unaffected by the presence of the curious man.

however, (m/n) felt something interesting, something in the detective that invited his curiosity even deeper.

the (h/c) haired man almost got up from his chair, wanting to approach alhaitham who was checking the files with focus. there was a sense of curiosity that surged within him, something that made him want to know more about the gray-haired detective who had just entered.

the first step had already swung when he started to move, but suddenly a hand of the policeman who was interrogating him—who had previously just been sitting casually on the chair—now reached out and held the man's shoulder gently but firmly.

"uh-uh, where do you think you're going?" said the policeman in a low voice, almost a whisper. "we're not done here yet."

the man turned his head, his gaze a little surprised, but not angry. "what else? i just want to chat with him for a moment," he answered casually, trying to pull his shoulder away from the policeman's hand that was holding him.

the officer shook his head slowly, his expression was familiar with this man's behavior. "don't cause any more trouble. we just talked about your own case, right? don't bother him."

however, the troublemaker still tried to escape from the police's restraint, with high curiosity in his eyes. "i won't bother him, i just want to talk. i'm curious about him, he seems like a different person. sir," he answered with a light voice.

the policeman took a deep breath, not too surprised by the man's attitude. "you know what will happen if you fight back, right?" he said in a slightly sharp tone, trying to hold back his patience.

the (h/c) haired man paused for a moment, realizing that he might get himself into more trouble if he continued to resist. he sat back down with a look of dissatisfaction evident on his face. although he would have preferred to talk to the gray haired man, he knew that this interrogation was not over yet and there was no point in making any more trouble.

"okay, sir. I understand," he said with a frown, but his gaze still did not leave detective alhaitham who was still busy minding his own bussiness. "but I'm still curious about him."

the policeman nodded slowly, as if he had predicted the man's reaction. "you still have plenty of time to chat, but don't cause any trouble. wait until we done."

the man finally sat back down, although his curiosity about the detective had not disappeared. he knew that if he had the chance, he would definitely approach the detective. But this time, he had to hold back and wait until the interrogation was over.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

previous. — masterlist — next.

read original (indonesian) work here!

✦ likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated!

#✦ series ;; cure alhaitham x m!reader #✦;; alhaitham #alhaitham x male reader #alhaitham x reader #sub alhaitham #al haitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact alhaitham #gay #male reader #top male reader

44 notes · View notes

immortalityforthegoddess · 2 days ago

Text

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐚.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!

𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 😶

𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨!

𝙍𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥:

-Jaegyeon is a lot more quite and reserved around you. It's because he trusts you.

-Jaegyeon isn't a fan of PDA, holding hands is as far as he'll go. At home it's a completely different story.

-Jaegyeon likes dying his hair different colors and often asks you for your opinion.

-Jaegyeon is surprisingly a good cook but hates the after math of aka, the dishes. So to compromise, he cooks and you clean.

-Jaegyeon spends most of his time working on his car or on his phone doing god knows what.

-Not to say he doesn't spend time with you, because whenever ever he has a free moment or day, it's gonna be with you.

-He likes buying you expensive jewelry and clothes.

-Jaegyeon is a dog person any day of the week.

-like I said man isn't big on PDA but if he notices someone checking you out, he'll put his hand around your waist. Glaring at the dude.

-No surprise, Jaegyeon is a good looking man, a very good looking man, so it's no surprise when different women come up and ask for his number with or without you right there and his answer is the same every time. "Am taken."

-Jaegyeon likes it when you sit on his lap. It's nice to be chilling and have you on his lap kissing his neck and playing with his hair.

-You trust each other completely. Both have to passwords to each other's phones and computer's, etc. He randomly will come up to you and ask to use it. Or if it's just sitting somewhere random, he'll still just use it.

-Jaegyeon LOVES to cuddle. Laying in bed after a difficult day with you in his arms, is like heaven to this man.

-He absolutely loves it when you wear his clothes, especially when it's just one of his T-shirts and panties.

-Jaegyeon will send random dog memes through out the day.

-It's his life's mission to at the very least make you laugh twice a day no matter what.

-There really is no arguing with him. If he's wrong he's wrong and let's it go. But if he's right, he makes that very clear and doesn't just let it go.

-He's very chill, all your friends like him, funny, calm, sweet, handsome...rich AF.

-Will drive you where ever you need to go, no matter how far. Will cancel his own plans to make sure you get somewhere.

-Is very supportive, of anything you do as long as it's safe.

-he's at least a foot or two taller than you.

-Doesn't really do good with emotion, so when you have a hard day, he'll just sit there and let you cry, scream, talk, sob anything to make you feel batter.

-Will NEVER admit this but he loves you more than his car.

𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒 (𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚):

-Jaegyeon is Huge to put it simply. 13 inches, maybe even 14.

-Jaegyeon loves bathing with you. He'll touch you a lot, mainly your boobs.

-incase you didn't get the hint, is a boobies type man, 100%.

-will fuck you front or back, doesn't matter to him.

-you will randomly just wear a large oversized shirt and panties, he takes the chance to bend you over something and slip his dick inside your velvet walls.

-He loves to randomly come up to you and have a quicky or straight up puts his finger inside you.

-100% has a daddy kink without a doubt.

-He loves breeding you, he wants to be a dad someday.

-let's you bounce on him as much as you need or want. Loves seeing your titties bounce up and down when you do.

-Will only do toys just to tease the fucking hell out of you.

-When he's behind or in front, he will spread your ass cheeks or pussy folds to see where you and him connect.

-Is very rough, dirty talks a lot. Also teases a lot.

-Loves watching you touch yourself, weather it's playing with your own boobs or fingering yourself, he loves it all.

-has videos of your playing with yourself or him fucking you. He'll play the video to hear your moans as he touches himself when he is away.

-has hundreds of nudes of you, naked or some type of sexy clothing.

-Will randomly when your napping or sleeping, take off all your clothes, including panties and bras and take pitchers of your naked exposed sleeping body. He'll also touch you or himself. You know of this and are okay with it. You do the same, you also have quite a few dick pics.

-has video cameras in the restroom, you know this. So when you take a bath you'll touch yourself and maon, he'll will either be on the other side watching, or playing with himself or just go into the restroom and hump you.

-Will randomly slap your ass through out the day.

-when ever you fight and he's just done, he'll pull up a video of your touching yourself to fluster the hell out of you and it works everytime.

-will respect your boundaries if you say no, but at times he might not.

-Will randomly, when he's mad or just having a bad day, come up to you and grab your hair pulling you down, he'll undo his belt and take his dick out, slipping it into your mouth.

#lookism x reader #lookism #lookism manhwa #jaegyeon na #first generation #kings #Jaegyeon x reader

48 notes · View notes

xxlady-lunaxx · 2 days ago

Text

its mostly platonic until the end

sabigiyuu core, somewhat winter themed modern!au headcanons:

sabito-specific bc he always puts his icy hands on the back of giyuu’s neck any time his hands are cold. he probably deliberately doesn’t wear gloves just so he can do this. giyuu tries to get payback but usually forgets-

matching scarves, matching hats, matching color schemed clothes, matching notebooks, matching hair ties because sabito’s parents (or urokodaki) and tsutako were all for matching things when they were children so it just stuck

whenever they sleepover, sabito’s up at, like, 5am and giyuu’s up at 11am (although often giyuu ends up being awakened by an impatient sabito around 7am)

giyuu has the worst bedhead ever and sabito likes tangling his finger in it bc then he can murder giyuu’s scalp by trying to get his hand out

only cutting each other’s hair in winter (no, they can’t go get it cut by someone who knows what they’re doing, what’s the fun in that?) so that they have an excuse for constantly wearing hoods

“what are you doing tonight?” - “watching a movie/show with a friend.” but it’s every night because they somehow have nothing to do in the winter

neither of them can cook so they’re always enlisting anyone’s help if they’re left home alone/when they move out

kotatsu their beloved

giyuu feels like the type to get cold easily so whenever they’re outside, he’s clinging onto sabito for any sort of warmth

they hold hands

hot chocolate!! or warm tea, warm milk… anything that’s a drink and warm they’re gonna have it. mostly to warm their hands, but also because yes

sabito doesn’t like spiders. giyuu is indifferent. sabito will wake giyuu up at 1am to catch spiders and giyuu will do as told.

they definitely have at least two stuffed animals each. i think giyuu would have the super big ones so he can wrap his arms around it whilst sabito’s are more regular sized and mostly from when he was younger

they stay up the whole night on new years (or, sabito does. giyuu falls asleep somewhere around 12:30am / 00:30)

instant ramen for breakfast because who the hell cares anymore (they can’t cook). or just biting into a whole loaf of bread. i mean, it’s too damn cold in the morning to bother trying to cut it

they have each others numbers memorized and no one else’s (except. like, tsutako’s).

stealing each other’s clothes all the time and never giving them back just because they’re relatively the same size

sabito having his growth spurt before giyuu and gloating about it only for giyuu to then grow even taller than him… and then sabito catching up before they eventually even out to almost exactly the same height

both of them with a sweet tooth and buying loads of sugar. i think they have a favorite bakery they always always go to

sabito likes to travel and giyuu comes regardless just because he doesn’t want to be left without him

also giyuu getting motion sickness easily

giyuu definitely confessed on new years by kissing sabito and saying that now he’ll be his first kiss of the year (he was a bit tired and delirious) but sabito was all for it and, after a bit of processing, said, quite calmly, that hopefully giyuu would be the only one he kissed the whole year

and then sabito, last minute before that year ends, kissing giyuu and triumphantly saying that now he’s giyuu’s last kiss of the year. it definitely becomes tradition

giyuu is a clingy bastard and sabito loves it

giyuu probably works as a blanket too, draping himself over sabito and just laying there because he can

meanwhile sabito is not afraid to beg for kisses wherever they are

21 notes · View notes

venomwrites · 2 days ago

Note

More of the missing moments fic!

Follow up to this fic, full thing is on Ao3. Fill ins for the missing time between 2x07-2x08. Each fic can be read on its own but they kind of work well together.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor who has indulged her so much says, “if it were any other circumstances—“

“No,” Caitlyn stops him.

What is a bribe if there is nowhere to spend it?

Ambessa’s ships have been arriving consistently. They loom in the harbor, a threat and a promise. No merchant ship would dare to enter their waters and risk her wrath. And hers means so much more than Cailtyns. No merchants means no supplies. No supplies means that whatever patients can be cared for by loved ones need to be moved. Taken home.

“She is stable and waking up,” he says, “it will continue to be a process. Your father—‘

“We will manage,” Caitlyn says, “when do I need to move her?”

“Today?”

She is not ready for that.

She is not ready to have this still creature who was once Vi come back to her home. Come back painted in all of Caitlyn’s sins and just be there until she’s strong enough to tell Caitlyn what a monster she is. For all the longing for Vi’s voice drove her to feed Jinx, she does not know how she is going to handle hearing it from her.

“Alright,” she says instead, “let me dress her.”

Vi exists in some kind of twilight state. She sleeps most of the day. All of the day actually. Occasionally her grey eyes will slit open. Caitlyn does not know what she sees but she tries to stay out of view. She makes more noises though. Groans and pained whimpers that cut through Caitlyns core. All the time she spent wishing Vi would let her in and she cannot bear to see this pain.

She really is a coward.

There is a bag she has ready to go for Vi. It has money, clothes, some provisions. Enough to get her around the Undercity. Caitlyn has her sizes from her putting on the blue gear. She’s gotten things that are comfortable but not prison clothes. Though Caitlyn knows it would be easier to put her back in those loose striped pants.

Or it would be if Caitlyn hadn’t burned them.

Instead she picks up the black pants Vi has been living in. She has no idea what she paid for them but what it cost to get them clean made even her housekeeper gasp. Caitlyn doesn’t care. They are one of the only two garments Vi owns. She can do nothing but she can clean her stupid snug pants.

Caitlyn works underwear up Vi’s legs and the pants on top of that. All practical, comfortable garments that mirror what Vi was wearing as best she can. She’s paid people to continue moving Vi’s limbs while she’s unconscious. The loss of muscle mass has been minimal. It keeps Vi looking like herself.

It also makes pulling the pants up her legs hard. Not just because VI’s lets are all muscle but because Vi is all bulk.

Caitlyn manages anyway, working the pants up as high as she can. Then she has to slide her hand under the small of Vi’s back and get them the rest of the way up. Caitlyn sometimes feels as though she knows Vi’s body better than her own now.

She hates that most of all.

This is not how she wanted to learn it. Not with Vi laying here carrying the weight of all her sins. She wanted to be let in. To build that gentle trust between them until Vi never said anything like ‘oil and water’ ever again. Instead she managed to destroy it. Even before Vi left.

It’s hard being loved like that

Jinx’s voice echoes in her ears. She hates the truth in her words. Vi loves with her entire soul. Carelessly, recklessly, blindly. Caitlyn has no idea where she gets the bravery from. It’s hard and it hurts an in the end it comes down to the choice of hiding from it or stepping into it. Trying to reciprocate it. Not being afraid of failing to reciprocate it.

What do you shoot for Kiramman?

Flat grey eyes are open.

They look at her and Caitlyn has no idea if they can see her. Given Vi has not bolted up from the bed and started telling her what a monster she is, she has a feeling they cannot. It doesn’t make it any easier to be caught in their orbit though. Do you hide from love or do you try to love the sun?

“Your pants are tight,” she says. Because Vi does not do small talk, “they are your pants, by the way.”

The grey eyes flutter closed and rationally Caitlyn knows its because of her injuries. Irrationally she finds it annoying.

“If you’re trying to avoid having to wear a shirt, I’m sorry to say you’re out of luck,” she continues.

The top is designed cleverly with a few snaps that can lay it flat open. However, the design flaw is apparent in that Caitlyn has to lean over Vi to pull it under her shoulders. This time though when her hands brush Vi’s side, she feels her muscles tense in response. It’s the first time she’s felt anything like actual life from her in so long. She can’t quite stop the sharp inhale as she looks down at the pained look on Vi’s face.

“Shhh,” Caitlyn has not soothed anyone since the grade school girls bathroom when boys broke their hearts, “you’re safe.”

“W—“ Vi tries to get the word out through dry lips.

“Jinx is safe, she’s with us,” she knows Vi will not remember this. She just has to pray it goes through whatever fear is trying to wake her up, “I’m going to take you home.”

None of that seems to make Vi feel better enough to relax. Caitlyn can see the heart rate monitor start to pick up. Distress. It’s normal as she wakes, but Caitlyn knows in her bones she’s the cause of this particular time. More than all the others. Before her mind can say why this is not a good idea, Caitlyn does the only thing she can think of.

She strokes the back of her knuckles down Vi’s cheek.

The effect is so instant Caitlyn half thinks she made up the previous moment. Vi lets out a shuddering breath and turns her face towards the side Caitlyn stroked. Caitlyn hesitates only a moment before repeating the gesture, trying to do it as gently as possible but also making sure Vi can feel it in her fog. A soft sound spills from her lips as she again tries to follow. So Caitlyn flattens her palm against her cheek entirely.

“Ca-it,” Vi sighs her name.

Like she’s been dreaming of this.

Caitlyn saw the way Vi looked when she worked up the courage to touch her. It made her want to never stop. She wanted to touch Vi gently until the surprised, longing look in her eyes went away. Until those touches were so normal they barely registered.

Of course Vi would be dreaming about that.

She loves you.

What if she chooses me again?

“I love you,” she blurts out, “Jinx loves you—you are so loved,” she tells the sleeping woman, “right now you need to sleep so I can take you home. Just sleep.”

Vi’s breath hitches but she relaxes as Caitlyn strokes the skin under her eye. Caitlyn keeps her hand there as she pulls the folds of Vi’s top gently over her torso and tries to fit the snaps together. They are sturdy though. She trails her fingers along Vi’s skin. Vi lets out a deep breath as sleep takes her back away. Caitlyn fits the snaps together and sits back.

Carefully she reaches out and pulls Vi’s plait free. The unshaved side of her hair has gotten so long. Caitlyn thinks to cut it but stops herself every time. Most of the time she knew Vi, her hair was not her choice. When she came back it was clear it hadn’t been cut. Without the stiffness of the greasepaint thee was enough to pull back. Then to plait into a braid. The first time Caitlyn had seen it her heart lurched at the familiarity. But now it suits her.

For safety they transport her with medical support.

It’s hard to see her limp again, mask over her mouth and nose, monitors beeping. The bandages she’s kept on her forearms now snake higher, making sure the tubes stay in place. Only the sight of the street clothes Vi wears keep Caitlyn grounded. She is home and they will deal with whatever comes next.

“Where are we taking her?”

“My room,” Caitlyn orders.

If they have any thoughts on the matter they say nothing. Caitlyn follows them into her room. What she is not expecting is to see her father standing on her bed. He’s been a shell of who he was. It’s a pain that Caitlyn cannot deal with at the moment. Has not been able to deal with. He flits in and out of rooms and her vision, opening his mouth but never fully getting out what he wants to say.

“What are you doing?” Caitlyn asks.

“They told me you were bringing her home,” he says, “you need somewhere to hang the fluids.”

“Yes,” she says, “but—“

What is she still doing here?!

What will you do if she chooses me?

“Ma’m—“ one of the medics interrupts her fumbling mind.

“Put her here,” her father says, motioning them in.

She watches as they move forward with more confidence than she has seen. Confidence because a doctor is motioning them forward. Her father directs them like it’s a second nature. Like he has not been listless this whole time. His practiced hands follow the tubing and inspect the ports. He treats her like any other patient and it is both infuriating and heartwarming. When he is satisfied he turns to Caitlyn.

“Why?” Caitlyn asks finally, “you said she doesn’t belong here.”

Shame crosses her father’s face. Her father is not a Kiramman by blood, he’s one by marriage. Respectable family but not one of equal stature. Caitlyn had never noticed how people looked at him until she was older. She had never planned on falling in love anyway so it was never something she cared to think about. Now she stands in front of her bed with the pair of them and wonders how her mother must have felt all those years ago.

Of all the people in the room, the only one who truly belongs in the house is her.

She will fight him if he tries to say otherwise.

“Yes,” he says, “I was cruel.”

The fight slides out of her. She was cruel. They have both been cruel. Careless. She walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Her father lets out a breath and wipes at his face. Only then does Caitlyn realize he’s trimmed his beard.

“I’m going to keep the medics visiting when they can,” she says, “but when they can’t—“

“Whatever you need,” he agrees. Caitlyn nods her thanks, “did you—talk?”

“No,” Caitlyn says. Her father gives her a look, “No! She’s been unconscious.”

He waits a moment. Caitlyn thinks he’s not going to speak.

“She would be furious you had a girl in your room.”

The wound of her mother pulls. But it doesn’t reopen with the same agony. For the first time Caitlyn almost feels like smiling at the thought. Of course she’s snuck girls into her room before. And her mother has been livid because you’ll get a reputation, Caitlyn. It’s always been her father who caves more easily. Caved more easily. Tobias! It is not funny! It’s her house now, she can bring in whoever she wants.

“She would be just as upset you let me do it,” she says glancing up at the hook.

Her father waves his hand.

“I’ll go make tea.”

Caitlyn approaches the bed. The drapes have changed, they do with the seasons, but it’s easy to remember Vi sprawled out on her covers. Complimenting her work. The bed is huge, big enough for many people. But Vi’s presence is the only thing that matters in it. Caitlyn sits on the edge and contents herself with watching for a long moment.

What if she chooses me?

“I don’t care,” she says aloud.

“About what?”

Shit, the tea.

Caitlyn tries to smile at her father like she hasn’t been talking to the ghost of her mother’s murderer. Vi bears all of Caitlyn’s sins and Caitlyn feels the weight of that. But somewhere under thee is still a knot of anger. Of hurt. One that lays dormant but Caitlyn knows is not gone. She thinks of Mel and wonders if she also had her mother burning somewhere in her. But those women are not in this room.

“I’ve been visiting Jinx,” she says, looking down at the tea, “it was the right thing to do,” she says firmly, cutting off any protest he might give. Then she continues softer, “She asked me what I would do if Vi chose her again.”

She does not expect a response from him. She doesn’t know why she’s telling him this. Maybe she’s using him to test out the conversation. He’s safe. If he slips away Caitlyn knows she can keep him alive. Here. She immediately tastes acid n her mouth at the realization and quickly sips the tea. It’s so hot it burns but that gives her something to focus on.

“I’ve been going over family finances to keep busy,” he says. Caitlyn feels her ears burn, even though it’s her money. She can do whatever she wants. But numbers have always comforted her father. She doesn’t need to justify her actions, “you built an entire prison in a month.”

Words like bureaucracy and tradition had been thrown around when Caitlyn was presented with the blueprints of Stillwater. So she did the only thing she could think and built a new prison. Nearby. Still a prison, still hell, but one that had things conductive to human life. One where people were locked up but did not rot as nameless, faceless numbers in the bowls.

“The infrastructure was already there,” she dismisses.

“What I’m trying to say is I don’t think her choice matters.”

Caitlyn sees red and shifts, blocking Vi from her father.

“Of course her choice matters,” she says, trying to keep her voice down, “how could you say something so—so—“ she fumbles for how horrible the words sound, “cruel.”

Her father watches her calmly. His calmness cuts through her. He watches her like he knows her. Like she’s still Caitlyn somewhere under the authority and pain. It makes her feel small. It doesn’t matter. She will not let him say such cruel things about Vi. Even if he is her father and she loves him dearly. She will protect her. The corners of his lips quirk up and confuse her further.

“Your mother would kill me,” he says.

“Why?” Caitlyn dares.

“She always said if you brought a girl you loved home you had to stay in separate rooms until you were properly engaged.”

Do you love her?

I love you

Everything in Caitlyn’s chest seizes and unravels. Refits itself around the new truth that burns there. Yes she hates Jinx, yes she wants Vi to choose her. Yes Vi wears all of her sins and the guilt chokes at her when she looks at her sometimes. It hurts to be loved like Vi loves.

What will you do if she chooses me?

I don’t think the choice matters.

Caitlyn knows she will spend the rest of her days trying to be worthy of that blinding love.

No matter what Vi chooses.

Her father picks up the tea cup and touches her shoulder. But all Caitlyn can do is stare at Vi. With her lone braid an infuriatingly tight pants and heart that is bigger than anything Caitlyn has experienced. Even the memory of her love makes Caitlyn want to try. Need to try. Just try.

“Let’s not tell her when we visit,” he suggests.

In Noxus we don’t talk to the dead.

“No,” she agrees, “not yet.”

#caitvi #arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi #tobias kiramman #cait x vi #arcane spoilers #vi x cait #justice for tobias ok i wanted to see the growth

20 notes · View notes