#and getting stuck in a snowstorm is something that will never ever happen in this game

[valiant-if]

y'know, initially i was gonna write two origin-esque short stories for the Ko-fi bonuses this month, but i decided i'm gonna do something a little different

so instead you're gonna get a little au snippet fluff series of getting stuck in a snowstorm with each of the ROs ☃❄

[grotesquevi]

synopsis   #  it’s unfortunate vi’s not made of stone, ‘cause your love it’s a force of nature that’s slowly tearing up the walls she built around her heart, a useless organ that only seems to beat for you now.

this story continues what happened in the arsonist, settled in a medieval au, feel free to read it before as you might be confused if not, there's a playlist for this so check it out! wc: 15.5k

cw   #   18+  as it contains smut at some point, homophobia, internalized misogyny, sevika + maddie nolen + kino cameos, infinite yearning, handsy making out, fingering, tribbing, a lot of spit and saliva sue me heh, dirty talk, switch!vi+switch!reader, political marriage, my usual tags tbh i'm pretty dirty but i'm not weird cheers.

vi dreams of going back to winter.

craves the silence of a snowstorm even when it only causes disasters to the realm, finds herself unable to close her eyes again without returning to the same thought: are you even affected by her like she’s affected by you? do you spend countless nights under the lackluster illuminations of a candle that is slowly melting over your nightstand? staring at the ceiling and not moving a muscle as she does — do you wish she was close to you like she wished for your company every night?

even as time passes, she finds herself yearning for weather she hates, even if it means you’d be back in that cabin again, seeking warmth in her arms. far too loyal to her beliefs to ever fall for your traps again. it shouldn’t be possible, but she's sometimes distracted during the day when you're walking past her and your perfume lingers in the air even after you're long gone. how you gracefully carried yourself despite having to endure how your mother is slowly rotting away in a gigantic bed.

"what we did," vi remembers her own words like a curse from the witch in the woods, it haunts her like a childhood nightmare "it cannot happen again, my lady."

a child born of royalty is destined to a bright future, to leave a huge impact on life, meanwhile vi's stuck being a nobody, ready to die for the crown. for you.

 the metal on her waist sits heavy on her belly because she swore years ago to willingly give her life for the well-being of your family, to die for a greater cause, something good.

"if that's your choice violet," it saddens her somehow. the fact you don't seem bothered by her words, even when vi's heart is already pounding in her chest like the thundering sound of a horse running to meet death in war. "i'll still ask about having you in my personal guard. i think your skills would be helpful at a higher rank."

"as you wish, my princess."

she doesn't want special treatment — fuck that, vi needs to earn it. however, she's bound to receive it when you're looking at her like that. bound to protect you, to serve and be nothing but a weapon in your ruling hand when swearing upon her honor, bent at the knee in front of your mother during her last rational moments. you could have her heart if it's demanded for the greater good. it's what every knight would offer, what she needs to do.

so violet's following you around in silver armor for months now with an impeccably clean white cape on her back. your knight is now present at council meetings, outside your room through day and night in the hallways, and it's driving her to an insanity she cannot comprehend: since the very moment you fell asleep in her arms, since you melted in her touch she cannot stay close to you for any longer than a minute. impossible to share a room with you when no one's around ‘cause she gets distracted, and her work relies on keeping you alive, on safeguarding your well-being: the kingdom can’t afford for her to fall for any distraction.

during her entire life, she has never felt so useless, so inebriate to someone's charm — a knight’s heart is not supposed to burn for the love of their princess, hold such feelings that went beyond her duty to serve; and yet she's trapped there, in that moment from whatever you were, from whatever you showed her outside the castle walls. it makes sense that you’d set her soul ablaze. the forever unworthy dog that's waiting outside your door despite all efforts of pushing you away, of standing still and ready for combat even when she flinches when some old man of the council has the nerve to raise his voice ever so slightly at your new ideas.

violet vanderson has now become a burden, a burden with a good name, a good place in the court and a secured future, a known knight that's attracting a lot of attention even when she would rather be showing a fist of iron to the injustice in the realm. something in her new position more than just your guard.

hope is a dangerous thing for somebody who has nothing, and to vi it's hard to keep her desires in check as you continue with your life holding no physical ache for her touch, not at plain sight at least cause you're so collected, so aware of yourself, of the power you carry now on your shoulders and haunts you night and day.

hope is a dangerous thing.

"i don't think my marriage is something we need right now," in the wall close to your seat vi's brows furrow in question when you're suggested by half of the council the need to join forces with noxus in an arranged marriage, already plotting for decent suitors without you knowing — "my mother's dying, and i'm going to ascend to the throne before i'm thinking about any political alliance."

"a marriage would benefit the people," at the lack of the presence of the queen you're responsible for the realm's destiny and its future, holding the weight of ruling a nation in your bare hands. "they’re cultivating fear already upon the uncertainty of the queen's destiny, afraid war's coming. we don't have the resources to protect the citizens from hunger, nor the pains of a war."

"noxus has been our declared enemy for years now," you reply, making vi’s gaze falter for a moment cause she can smell it in the air still: you’re annoyed — "any alliance with them is nothing but a lie. and i won't feed the people outside this castle with nothing but honesty. we'll make arrangements with piltover if necessary, i know the queen and they owe it to us."

"you're taking a rushed decision my princess," the title is a reminder of your level, how you're not yet a queen, a regent royal who's in control of the final decisions. makes your body stiffen and vi, even from where she is, can see the tension in your muscles, the invisible threads that came out of your back and connected you to the ceiling, kept you up like a real-life-puppet. "we cannot reject their proposal this quickly, you cannot be so blind to not see the future of our nation. your mother would wish upon your marriage as soon as possible too, this- it could lead to a new war."

"despite joining forces with piltover, i'm afraid it won't be enough," another man adds, agreeing to the proposed idea, "the noxian forces hold great power, and compared to our tropes, i'm afraid we don't have the necessary."

"that's enough," much like your family, the tone you use travels across the room like a wild fox chasing its food. makes vi shiver under her armor, looking away cause she's afraid her eyes were already digging holes in the back of your skull, too frightened to think about what you'd think if finding out how her chest twists at the thought of you marrying a man — "until my mother gets out of bed i wont be doing no courtship. the nation of noxus is not at war with us still, and i'm intending to keep it that way gentlemen. the meeting is over."

you don't have to say anything. vi works in sync with you now, been getting used to you since the night after the cabin, knows what you're up to like your shadow. turned into your guardian as she walks beside you when you storm away from the room and it's so nice, so nice to see you mad. wrong probably on so many levels, but the thought crosses her mind a time or two when she's following you close by, far still, at a fast pace when you cross the hallway infuriated.

"marriage," you spat to the air offended, and the knight's sure you're not talking to her cause you never do. barely look her way after the night you shared with her as it embarrasses you enough to act as if it never happened "can you even believe that, knight? my mother is dying and all they care about is if i'm marrying a noxian."

it must be the sixth or seventh time you're looking back at her after months, and vi's lungs seem to fill with a different kind of oxygen when your eyes travel through her face and you're aware of the details of it, the scar on her upper lip, the tattoo on her cheek. it lingers on her for seconds, seconds the knight uses like a plant uses the sun to survive, makes her forget what she's gonna say for a second.

"you don't have to marry anyone if you don't want to" her voice is rougher than before but wishes to ignore the real motive behind it: how can a simple act from you already have her spiraling to the gates of hell? how are you so fast to speak like a friend? — "it's a decision you can only make, my princess. the council's job is to follow your rules and do nothing but advise. you don't have to follow their suggestions if they aren't fitting."

you seem stuck in the wording, on how her mouth moves to say it: my princess. she'd said it before, but it has never affected you the way vi's able to see from where she was standing, so clearly as the sun shining on a summer day.

she asked for this. haunts her when vi's the one that pushed you away in the first place, the one that's so sure of your negative opinions on her, how you should hate her since she's the reason you're back and far away from your desired freedom moons ago. you're a spine on the palm of the hand, and itch she cannot scratch not at bare fingers, not so easy anyway.

you have a royal duty. violet owns you her entire life. the money her family was now enjoying and the good position she had been granted? was thanks to you. in her chest still rests the medal she got for taking you back to where you belonged, hanging right against her heart as a constant reminder of her victory, of how she earned a trust she wished to keep like the greatest treasure she owned.

"you're right," it's a warm feeling the one that spreads in her chest at your response. "i don't have to marry nobody, i will be the regent queen."

"you will, my princess," she continues still, arm's-length distance, almost refusing to look at you like she wanted to — "the kingdom does not follow the council's words but your own."

and vi have to repeat it to herself once again when the sun hits your face for a moment and your complex green gown gives her enough access to look at your cleavage, squished tits under a corset that only strangled you: she asked for this.

"what we did. it cannot happen again, my lady."

every day it's the same from now on, sometimes a knight can be blatantly stupid, she knows all about it.

so the knight desperately desires to be locked up for treason the next week: how can she begin to separate her devotion to the crown from the craving her body presents to your companion? how can she begin to control the burning sensation in her throat when you're announcing your marriage to the rest of the court?

nobles are happy as the news kicks in and it should be a motive of celebration for her too since the council's right: a marriage would satisfy the masses, light up the way after so much dark attacking the kingdom. however, vi's selfish when her right hand closes around the iron handle of her sword and thinks, for a moment, about how she was born on the wrong side of the track — in some other world she may be a royal too. a royal looking for a princess. for you.

she doesn't understand the change of your decisions, why everything shifted when you were already reluctant to be courted by possible suitors, but after the week when you were venting in an empty hallway passed, you must have forgotten about your knight's lame advice. must-have.

and no she's not jealous. in her existence and vast contacts with romance, vi has never been a jealous woman, sure of where she stands its hard to feel a needle in her heart every time someone else wants what's hers. it's not an issue. she's not jealous of the fact you were paying attention to dull princes with empty promises, but something in her system seemed to melt away when realizing with a sting, on the fact she has nothing to give, nothing to offer or promise.

your suitors hold power, a fucking castle, troops and a hundred knights just like she is. a painful reminder when vi's obliged to be miserable and follow you around the gardens as you're holding the arm of the prince of ionia. black hair, he's been talking about an hour or so about the breathtaking views in his region, his wealth and intelligence — what can she offer but a shiny armor and a heavy sword? nothing but a handful of scars she received in combat.

"when we marry princess, the whole realm will be so envious" the prince says out loud, and the knight has to resist the urge to chuckle at how hollow everything sounds — "you'll be the prettiest bride in all ionia. we should marry in spring since the cherry trees blossoms and it's the softest of all pinks-"

boring. so fucking boring. makes vi wonder why she's there when there's no one around, third-wheeling in the worst moment as she battles to keep a straight face until you randomly answer:

"if we marry your majesty, i'm afraid it will have to be here in my region since we have a bigger influence than ionia," it takes only one brain cell to notice how your suitor is now re-thinking about a possible union at your words. "i'm pretty sure the council must have mentioned it before, cause i'm not leaving my country."

now that makes vi lose her temple. an almost silent laughter that's loud enough to catch your attention even when your eyes keep analyzing the prince, sharp, cold-blooded, a true heir to the crown who's ready to fight for her rights, to be treated with no less respect than what deserves.

her laugh however, does not seem to be subtle enough to be unnoticed when the prince's looking at her from the corner of his eyes too before awkwardly standing still— another one that goes to never come back.

"yes, princess" he seemed almost embarrassed at the confusion. "i'm so sorry about the mistake, it will not happen again."

poor guy, you could feast on his shame when he leaves the garden with a cloud of bad luck following him around, making her bite the inside of her cheek to prevent the sounds of the fun the knight's experiencing all sudden.

"stop that," you say, standing a few steps away. "i know you're laughing, violet. this can bring trouble."

it's funny because even when you say it she wants to do it anyway. laugh loudly just to make you mad in your pretty dress, see the pout on your lips even in that beautiful red dress you wear to impress your suitors, pretty hair, special makeup. the ladies-in-waiting that go to your room to dress you up every morning put all of their efforts into making you irresistible and damn the world cause it worked so well in every suitor, in her.

"violet," you're pulling her back to earth when she's able to hear the sound of your voice from over her invading thoughts, soothing, there's a command that always laced your words together cause you're a royal, made and born to rule, have some sort of control all the time. "don't laugh."

it's hard to say it when you're laughing too and she's never felt like that before. not even in a damn snowstorm, not when she gained the medal and her sister hugged her so tight she wondered what she was eating lately to hold such force, not after being a lapdog for months — tougher than any open wound it stays in her contagious, pulls her to the floor as she's shaking her head like she doesn't want to — be a victim of you.

"i'm not laughing, my princess."

and vi hates to enjoy it, that carefree fun that surrounds both of you and makes the world feel silent for a moment cause in reality, nothing else matters but the intimacy of all, the sound that invades her body like poison, an unwanted visitor.

you're so quick to plague her thoughts, make her a victim of fuzzy brain when you look at her from over your shoulder, a cocky smile on your lips she happens to know from before when she's been kissing on your back with you giving her the same look, biting on the erogenous zones that made you shiver to the point vi desires to repeat the same action all over again, push you back against her armor and take advantage of the fitting form of your dress, the lack of clothing in your exposed shoulders since there's no one around, not much force but just a playful tug.

she's jealous of the sun and the way it dances on your skin, the way it makes the most beautiful deals in your body without you noticing. she's jealous of people owning things and having power, envious to the point she chokes on her own saliva cause her mouth is drier than ever, driven by the memory of you right there where she desires you to be.

violet's a sufferer of her own thoughts lately cause they repeat themselves over and over heavily in her noggin: oh how she needed power! how she desired a damn castle! how she needed a better last name! cause if she owned half of the power the prince of ionia had, the knight would be traveling from far away to ask for your hand in marriage just like the rest of your suitors too.

no need for a second thought. 

as a knight you're trained to recognize the battlefield even when it's empty, the danger like a sixth sense, violence like a second language and loyalty like a primary emotion. so vi’s used to danger, yes, your courting, however? it was the closest thing she's been to a war in years.

begins when the warrior notices the depths of the suitors need for you, the empty promises of a prince and the same tactics they used when they try to seduce you with the thought of power, how beautiful you looked dressed and pampered like a high-ending royal, nothing else than the realm's delight that walked throughout the hallways of the castle with your knight following by, chased by another man that's mumbling empty compliments until you said something mean enough to make them run away.

is it a game for you? scare them off until there's no one left to endure your character? tame the attitude you carried with so much grace? violet deserves at least a dozen medals by the course of the next week cause she might as well be one of your noble ladies following you around in a pretty dress, preventing guys from forgetting their real place as they talk blatant bullshit when trying to win you over with lies.

she's sure you can see it too when you look at her for a quick minute like you're saying with your mind — is-he-for-real-now? sure you're tired cause she is, putting up a fake smile when she should be doing something important, something that mattered: she's part of the guard, something fucking big.

why is she being dragged as a chaperone?

on friday night she's going to say something. it's too late now and her feet fucking hurt after being standing so many hours as you seemed stuck on reading some book about medicine in plants. struggles to say it for a moment as you interrupt the silence almost sensing the awkwardness she expelled.

"who do you think i should be marrying to?"

"pardon me, my lady?" vi's sure you're talking in her direction as you push the book away from you, turning around to see her when the question travels around the library. she's the only one there with you in the most spacious room of the castle at those late night hours, your companion for the night as she keeps herself at a safe distance, barely able to see what you're doing as there's not enough light around.

"if you had to choose one suitor for me," you lay out the question again — "who would you pick?"

there's a long moment of silence after your question where vi struggles to say the truth, how could she when all the answers are too far from the reality you expect to hear? she must be condescending, make you confident to rule a kingdom and reassure your questions, but she cannot bring herself to lie to you that easily.

"is it that hard for you?" you seemed curious at the lack of response, taking the ancient book between your fingers to leave it where it was from the beginning. after being seated in the same position for so many hours, you stretch out for a moment before you're take the candlelight in your right hand with the book close to your chest before simply adding, — "i don’t have anyone i trust enough to ask this, so i need you to answer me with the truth vi, who do you think i should be marrying?”

"do you trust me?" it slips away as the knight follows you close by as always, a manner that's now intrinsic in her actions as she holds the handle of her sword. she doesn't know how to shut up when you're doing something as simple as stretching out your sore back, that's why she avoids places when there's no one around but you and her.

"yeah, i know you will tell me the truth. i don't know any person in this realm who's more loyal to the people than you are, so spit it. tell me what you're thinking."

vi has to bite her tongue when she wishes to correct you, make you go back in your words as you find the hallway you were looking for, staring at the shelves as you're searching for the empty spot your book left behind.

"i can command you to say it, you know that right?"

"i think you already know the answer, my princess."

"do i?" you ask curiously, and vi's desperate to stop being a horny fuck for five minutes in her existence when she bites the insides of her cheek as a distraction — "so you think no one's a great suitor?"

"i do" she admits finally, a subtle shade of red making the knight's cheeks blush at the plain truth, mentally thanking it was too dark in the library for you to even notice how she's losing her mind over a simple exchange of words. "i think no one's in the level to rule our people. they care about money and power more than the protection of the realm, and if you allow me to say it, princess, i think none of them deserves you, either."

it's so hard to keep herself in check when words keep going out of vi's mouth and she's a victim of her honesty, unable to tell you anything but the truth as you stop walking for a second to instead, turn to look at her this time, allowing the warm light of the candle shines against her armor, a side of her face you kept staring for a moment.

"interesting," you say almost to yourself. "bold to say for a knight after rejecting me."

her breathing gets caught in her throat in an instant: is that why you don't look her way? why she can count the amount of times you've laid your eyes on her with her fingers? no, surely not.

"i thought we agreed on not talking about it."

"you should listen to me more often," you reply when finding the empty spot the book belonged, sliding it back to the bookshelf — "i will be your queen after all."

the words burn hot on vi's tongue wishing to carve their way out between her teeth, die once again cause she's mesmerized at the damn sight of you, like every single fucking time. is it the dim lighting of the candle this time? the warm light that kisses your cheek in the most delightful sight? her brains playing tricks, confused as she cannot tell if it's the small flame of the fire that's making her feel sick inside her armor or how you're smiling at her almost as a dare to keep going.

no, violet vanderson's not loyal to the people. she's loyal to you.

"why are you marrying someone if you don't want to?" and it's weird cause she can see it as clearly as the water in the river outside the town, her favorite place in the entire world.

"what makes you think i don't want to marry?"

"don't know" — "i'm just saying what i think. it's what my lady wanted."

the silence's so loud for a minute, ringing in her ears like a vibration.

"If you must then, i suggest you choose with not only your brain but your heart" vi adds, unable to hold the tension when her knuckles turn white against the iron handle — "a suitor who likes your kindness and your witty remarks. not as the kingdom dictates, but what you feel is right."

"i desire no man, violet" — "but it's nice to see you still have a heart after all the violence a knight can witness."

at this point she'd like to surrender her ill will and any rest of self-control, heart leaps into her throat and vi needs a minute to believe what you're saying, the implications of your words: of course you desire no man, how can she not see it before when it was so obvious?

"then why marry?" she insists — "is it because of the pressures of the council? cause they are a bunch of old men who can go-"

"no. it's because of my mother," it’s a new declaration that makes her stop for a moment without understanding anything at all — "it's her death wish i guess. she desires to unite two nations together, make a stable future for the country and i can't let her down again."

"but it's unfair," the knight claims, a knot tying together in her stomach: vi knows a lot about unfairness, the revolts of life that stab you in the guts when you least expect it — "your majesty is taking something that's not hers to own."

"yes. but it's for the sake of the realm.”

"makes no sense," she's losing her patience for a moment, the very same she prides on having. "you were about to escape months ago, ready to kill me for freedom, and now you're saying you're going to marry because of your mother's dead wish for the kingdom?"

"please don't be mad at me… i can take the whole council's anger, but i cannot take yours without tearing me apart."

"i'm not angry" why is she so close when vi swore she left a good amount of space between the two of you? why are you leaning against the bookshelf, looking at her with the most gentle eyes? — "i'm not angry with you. i just wish to understand you."

"i wish to make the realm proud, let them call me a queen cause i deserve it. cause i reassured their future, kept them safe."

"and you're willing to make yourself miserable because of it?" vi wonders out loud, and her words make you flinch for a moment cause they feel similar to a punch — "i'm sorry. i was being rude."

"isn’t that the job of a queen, violet? put the kingdom first?"

she's so attracted to you it's unbearable. like a fever that starts from the very inside of the stomach expelling from her skin in the form of unscented sweat. you're so close now she can feel the subtle warmth of the fire, the features she missed in the cabin due to the lack of light now replaced to a feast of details, makes her doubt for a moment: could she fall asleep while standing?

she doesn’t regret the next even now, not when her thumbs brush over your lips to trace the shape of them, yearning the touch of them against her own, their softness in all glory like a pleasure she’s been denying herself for too long. the knight needs to see it for herself, confirm that you’re flesh and bone and not something made up in her head.

“you don’t have to,” it’s her fault either way when her hand finally reaches you and she can feel how your breathing shifts as her fingers settle right over your cheek, flat palm against bare skin vi can tell when the beating of your heart turns erratic as it happens, when she begins to affect you like the side repercussions of mandrake blowing up your brain — "the kingdom has always known about your rebellious nature, it's not a surprise."

the feeling of power intoxicates her just right creating this thick haze of mist on her brain that prevents vi from thinking, that would explain her lack of constraint and her need to conquer cause she wouldn't be leaning in so easily, wouldn't be invading you with the need that drives her five senses cause she's the one that's taking a step closer, that need a kiss like air to the lungs.

"i'm not getting rejected again" your words make her laugh cause: does it look like she’s rejecting you? when staring at your lips hungry as ever, counting the second as the only remains of rationality left, is she rejecting you?— "violet."

"rejected," the knight chuckles at the words cause they sound funny at this point, ridiculous even when she's all over you, nose brushing against the curve of your neck; she remembers that smell from before now coated with a nice, inviting scent of vanilla installing under her nostrils "you poor thing huh? having to take rejection from a simple knight."

you remember, that's the dangerous part of it cause you blend into her arms, melt to fill every space in her armor when she's placing wet kisses on the curve of your neck, driven by need, desire, lust she contains between her ribs like a secret she wishes to whisper into your skin like a new tattoo. you remember how it feels when her lips carve a path to your jaw; it’s already a mess because you struggle to hold the candle as she bites your flesh leaving her teeth imprinted on that special spot, and you’re openly moaning every letter of her name like a curse.

violet vanderson's a curse.

"please don't marry" it comes out way needier than expected when vi's cornering you against the bookshelf, almost to herself when her hands wrap around your waist, fingers threading in your back as she's pulling the knots of your corset, putting up a fight already — "please. please don't do it..."

god. why is she like this? why does her voice sound so strained? so devastated by a few kisses she stole like a thief? her saliva shines on your skin and its a testament to her wanting, to the way you've settled under her bones to live there like a constant thought.

"i need you," when did she decide to dig up her own grave? when you became so versed in armors? your fingers unbuckle the silvery plates and cold metal of her body like a second skin and she doesn't even realize it as it happens "i'd forget about my honor, about my promises to the crown if you ask me. i cannot bear with this princess, with having you so close to me, buried this deep."

her kisses. man vi's kisses. they're enough to leave you thinking about them for years, make you believe there's nothing else but that texture you feel, the scar on her upper lip, the way they found their way to fit your mouth ever so perfectly, the playfully push her tongue makes against yours that ignites a burning fire similar to the depths of hells.

vi's hands are not enough. she cannot reach as deep as she'd like to when she's pulling the everlasting fabric of your dress up to your waist cause it bothers her, cause she wants to have you like she did on the cabin, press once again the kindest kisses on your back, hold you close to her chest when you're close to cum. she wishes to unravel you again, fight your character with more jokes, more laughter, more fucking kisses.

"you're beautiful" the knight shivers at your touch and curses at the lack of armor cause the cold air of the night makes her shiver under the soft touch of a princess who never knew about hard work, curious digits that trace the intricate lines and patterns of her skin — "every scar, the ink on your skin-"

vi blushes at your words little accustomed to get any kind of praise, at least never from someone she holds so highly in her heart: when did you remove her armor so swiftly? when did the metal begin to rest on the floor? cause she cant remember when you got under your skin that easily, when she finally dropped her defenses to let you in.

"my princess is too kind" she mumbles fighting to not go past your collarbones, forbidding her lips to brush past the valley of your chest still covered by your pretty dress. "i am nothing but a humble knight unworthy of such tender words."

it's not true, it's not entirely true when you're making her feel like a goddess, when in your hands she becomes gold, the most necessary person in the realm forged by the love and loyalty of her princess.

the light of the candle is long gone and even when its all dark again it's like returning to a home, the noble house vi belonged to when making you wrap your legs around her waist, using the now very convenient bookshelf to her will when she's kissing you again — rougher now, impatient when it plunders on your mouth.

"i burn for you," she whispers already drunk on you, on your touch and sloppy kisses full of saliva, a goner for your wondering hands, the sounds you make when she's touching you the way you needed — "i crave your kisses, your touch, any last drop of your love."

"ah-fuck," you nod to her words. "fuck that's so nice, your kisses are so damn nice."

and if she had more time, she'd be taking her time with the long thread on your back that holds your corset together, letting her lips go past the fabric of your dress cause she don't care anymore, fuck any consequence; but instead she's welcomed by a weird cough, a sound of discomfort that makes vi freeze on the spot at the knowledge of a third person now on the library.

"my princess," it doesn't sound the same when sevika's holding a candlelight to light up the dark hallway — "you're needed in your mother's chambers. urgently."

shame creeps upon the both of you like a monster, and vi's back seems to spread even bigger to cover you from sevika's prying eyes, the other knight already peeking to gossip the details later: a knight. fucking a princess. on duty.

"leave" you reply, and she can feel the nervousness in your voice when speaking up, even commanding like you usually do it falters at the unexpected — "i said leave, knight." 

her arms cover you entirely, the fabric that was gathering on your waist now goes down back to its original form, and vi's trying to help somehow, protect your honor from anyone else, fighting against all odds. the silence now says a lot when sevika's leaving the library and there are no words that can describe that moment, that feeling blossoming in her chest that invades the knight all of a sudden.

if she dares to talk, they may get violet hanged by touching a princess so inappropriately. taking advantage of a royal's goodwill? it's her fault when she's not alert, too lost in you, in the secrets of your body and how it speaks to her in a universal language.

"will she speak?"

"don't know," vi replies. "i'll take care of it. go see the queen."

you're not showing much regret either when leaning in for a new kiss, when your hands search for the knight’s skin burning hot against your touch, trying to somehow surpass the linen that feels rough against the pad of your fingers.

so fuck it. sevika saw and vi's stealing a couple of kisses now careless and unfocused, three, four, who keeps count now? her heart beats heavy on her chest so the repercussions don't matter, no when you’re mumbling something about your hair but all she can think about is how rough your voice is, how she aches to keep you there against the bookshelf longer than she's allowed, trapped between the wood and her hands.

the door closes as you leave, and the knight cannot fight against it cause she’d spend the rest of her days showing you the depths of her devotion. married to a man, married to whoever.

violet vanderson has already proved her loyalty to you.

"the princess will not be needing your companion today," vi’s brows furrow in annoyance as she listens to the head of the knights the next morning, the wood bench she was sitting on cracking as the weight shifts from one side to another: she can’t even have a decent breakfast at peace those days— "you may join other knights in their duties."

"what?" it’s a surprise even for vi when she cannot hide the worry that settles in her shoulders as she won’t stop thinking about the kiss from the night before, intoxicated still with the idea of doing it again until your lips are swollen and used by her own — "did something happened to the princess?"

usually, joining others would be the best idea of the century, patrolling outside the castle would allow her to wander throughout the fairs until late inspiring respect as she walks, but now? now she’s attacked when thinking about it, offended almost cause hell: did you regret it? was the kiss last night so bad? didn’t she prove the depths of her devotion? it’s an ache in the knight’s chest that does not go unnoticed.

"do your work kid. stop asking questions far too relevant to your grade."

her feet move faster than her brain, commands her before anyone else as she makes her way up to the stables: what if sevika talked? she was too tired yesterday to look out for her, but now it's a regret that makes her worried as vi's slightly afraid of getting arrested again. no fucking joke when she has already experienced the cold winter behind bars.

"vi," maddie nolen’s voice distracts her for a second. — "are you coming with us today?"

"yeah in a minute."

"we're leaving now, if you're staying you'll have to wait for the next patrol."

"have you seen sevika?"

"i think she'll join us later, she was needed somewhere else."

how will she fake concentration the entire day when she doesn’t give a fuck from what’s going on outside the castle? vi's forced almost, dragged when holding the rails of her horse with both hands cause it started to rain and it made the soil so irregular she might fall. mud sticks to her horses hoof and it makes everything slower since destiny loves to be cruel when it comes to her; the knight who's too afraid to ask for love, the warrior who doesn't know what to do with such feelings.

the fog covers the short path from the castle to the town center where the fair's currently installed. water sticks to her armor, soaks her seat, and she wonders what you must be doing as the hours pass. cold, violet keeps herself warm with the thought of your figure pressing right against hers, the way your fingers knew her armor enough to start undressing her like the metal was nothing more than a layer you can peel off, throw away.

the moon doesn't shine when a dark shade of grey settles down in the sky — so far, she sent nolen back to the castle with a couple of thieves trying to steal some fur to re-sell it, gained a nice plate of hot soup and attacked a tavern since she's too cold to be outside. consumed while she sips on a black beer with the same thought that lurks in her head like a wolf searching for a piece of meat.

the kiss. the kiss and the softness of your lips, the kiss and your warm breath, your fingers pulling and demanding, getting yourself in her bloodstream the same way you did months ago in the cabin when you shuddered and tried to defy the rules of nature as you tried to get as close to her as possible, riding her damn knee, saying shit about how you're giving her a different kind of medal before burying your face between her already soaked thighs.

its a desideratum, falls over her like the black plague did years ago when rats invaded each corner of the kingdom, a feverish sickness similar to a punishment when she's been so reluctant to ever show her buried feelings: vi deserves it, being so out in the blue, shoved aside when she lusts on being needed, missed but never close.

it was so hard to sleep last night, not wish to set her heart on fire only to tranquilize the most shameful thoughts she's been attacked with — sleep deprived, makes sense vi doesn't notice sevika's presence at first when she's dragging a chair to sit right next to her side, shoulders brushing, the knights sure it must be a drunk citizen trying to give her some action for the night.

"nolen said you were looking for me," the rain only intensifies with the passing hours, pouring outside against bad constructions that barely stand against the weather. "i have a job to do. be quick."

now that sevika's there the guilt settles in her stomach for a moment, caught on the fear of having to admit out loud what she was doing last night to someone else, put in words her desire only to be judged: as if the skin that shivers under soaked clothing wasn't because of the fact violet carries the imprints of your hands all over her like an honor.

"last night," she starts only to make her comrade groan in annoyance. "what you saw-"

"you're old enough to know what you're getting into."

"yeah. i know. did you tell anyone about it?" she rephrases instead, as if her life didn't depend on sevika's choices of being a gossiper or not. "about the stuff you saw."

"no" she's too calm about it even when vi's on the edge of her seat, "i have important things to be aware of, far more important than finding out one of my knights is kissing and getting handsy with the princess on duty."

"what could be even more important than breaking the code-"

"the queen's dead," the knight says impatiently, checking her surroundings for a moment as she leans in to talk quieter than before — "she died last night, vi."

"that's why you came to the library."

"yes, dipshit" sevika declares cause it's obvious at that point. "the doctors asked me to bring the princess over the night cause she wanted to say goodbye to her daughter. shit. i don't even think your royal girlfriend cares about your little kiss right now. she's busy too."

violence invades her like an old friend. her brows furrow and her shoulders tense up at the bad joke: of course you don't care about her stupid kisses right now, why does it bother her so much? when did she turn this selfish?

"do you know when its going to be announced?"

the question makes vika laugh, the sound being louder than any conversation in the tavern, annoying in her ears — "do i look like i know about royal announcements? we are talking about the queen violet, i only do what i'm told."

she lacks patience now. cannot handle her companion's sarcastic remarks when the mist of the rain seems to settle down on her head too, so as she leaves a coin in the table and grabs her horse already resting in the property's stable, she wonders if it's the best idea when most of the knights will spend the night in the tavern, cause if she's half intelligent like they are, vi would be staying too to prevent the massive flu she might get in result.

it's not an idea but a need, even when the rain pours down and hits her armor making these awful sounds on the way back home, she's barely able to see the road when the horse is running back to safety, nothing else but the loud sound of her heart beating in her damn ear.

it's a bad idea too, cause she should've stayed and talked to you in the morning but her heart is unable to shut up and vi knows she wont be able to sleep either, wait hours until the sun's up in the sky and everyone's awake demanding for things — she wants your undivided attention, wants the candles in your room only shine for her eyes to see you, powder blue drinking in the details of her runaway princess, be there.

are you affected? of course you are. you didn't want her around cause you were sad. violet knows she should be giving you space, let you mourn and grieve at your own time but it haunts her still when she crosses the hallways at a fast pace. soaked, drips of cold water make an invisible path to your chambers when she arrives at the castle in a frenzied state: she's been there before losing it all, she knows about how hollow it can get, how your chest only hurts.

"leave."

"excuse me?" the sound of the knight's voice sounds far still when she's calling out the young guard installed outside your doorframe, faltering at the sight of vi already intimidating enough to make the guy stutter — "i'm-i'm not supposed to move from the door, sir."

"i said, fucking leave" vi replies, shoving him aside to open the door of your room, and even as her replacement's ready for battle, he's encountered instead by the gaze of a suffering princess, the future queen that's a mess still seated on the edge of her bed, giving him an ice cold stare that makes the guard go back to the hallway.

he gets the silence and your lack of refusal to the vi's presence. closes the door behind the knights back only to leave her to be greeted with a sharp and calculating pair of eyes that seem to trespass her from over the metal, the barely noticeable sound the water makes as it pools below vi's feet when she doesn't realize on how her body shakes under your scrutinizing gaze, how nervous you can make her even when she's a trained warrior, daughter of the war in runeterra.

"i'm so sorry, my princess," it's the only thing she dares to say, knowing any word would be in vain at the moment — "nobody told me until an hour or so, and i'm so sorry for not being here before."

it's ridiculous to imply she's that important for you when she's only a knight. part of the vanderson's noble house vi has never been important like she felt that night in your room, not when she saw you like that; so vulnerable, a victim of the constant unease. the metal's cold and distant, but you don't seem to care about it when you're running up to her arms and vi has enough time to catch you before you crumble to your knees, succumb to sadness and misery.

she holds your weight in her arms, and shoves you against her chest afraid you'll slip from her wet armor, get a flu like she will have. violet hugs you tight, so much your lungs ache and you find yourself thinking about her smell, the force she uses to wrap you in her figure as if trying to make you a part of her.

"you're here" it's almost like you don't believe it in your own eyes, lips dry, the knight can see the traces of red in your pupils, the bags under revealing you didn't sleep much. "my mother she's-"

the words get lost in the air, in the way she's holding you together afraid you might break against the cold marble floor — "it's okay. i know."

there's no need to keep on talking about it, no need to fake any longer when the tears blend with the water already in your knights armor, petals that kisses your skin in the most tender caress as vi's fingers rest against your cheek, thumb brushing against the bone in a constant back and forth.

"the noxian prince," you say frustrated — "kino. he asked for my hand today."

does she have to get all the bad news all of a sudden? does she have to be reminded of her unworthy state? her lack of money and assets to ask you to marry her instead?

"you accepted," it's not a question but more like an assertive truth, a hurtful combined set of words you cannot say out loud on your own. "you agreed to marry the prince of noxus."

vi's unaccustomed, weirded out by feeling such things when her entire life has been dedicated to a single purpose: serving, securing the well-being of the crown and not feeling this gut-wrenching anger, this first-time jealousy.

"i made a promise to my mother before she died," why is loyalty so important? why are empty promises the ones that held you by the neck? the unimportant, the ones that kept you hostage from living life how you wanted. "i don't know what to do- i'm so sorry, i'm so fucking sorry-"

your hands tangle in her hair, cherry strands poorly dyed in black that in your fingers only makes the owner shiver: is it the cold of the rain or your damn touch? the way your hands once again begin to get rid of the metal that protected the knight from losing the battle, tossing it to the floor like it's nothing.

nothing.

"you confuse me, knight" it never fails. the way your mouth moves to say each word when she has you this close, when the fire of the chimney feels now warm on her naked skin — "you lay the truth clear and declare we cannot be doing what we did in the cabin, but you're pulling me for kisses on the library when no one's looking, feasting on me when we're alone and fighting the most complex battles in your head."

"i beg for your forgiveness, my lady. i'm not used to feeling so conflicted either," her voice betrays her as usual, the strained need that rips vi's vocal chords — "i guard myself and keep my distance not out of a lack of desire but because the fear of losing myself in you."

so that's how it starts in the first place, when your hands work to get rid of the linen shirt that sticks to the knight's body, tossing it close to the fire in a poor intent of drying the fabric as you're helping her out of her armor cause it's too heavy now, cause you want it to be just you and her without nothing else in between: no metal, no corsets.

"truth is, i love you my princess" and the words escape like a poem when you lean to kiss her, soft lips pushing against her own, making vi gasp between each needy peck. "i love you. i love you so deeply it's guiding me to an obscure insanity cause i cannot have you."

there's no point in hiding it, pretend she's not needy, desperate, consumed with the all-encompassing need to belong to you, blend in the curves of your body. you give yourself to her so easily in a tender dance, trying to warm her up after so many hours of freezing it makes the knight lose focus.

"so please tell me the truth," vi begs for a moment, afraid of what is to come when her lips trail along the elegant line of your jaw in soft, gentle kisses, carefully making their way down to the curve of your neck she knows so well, unable to leave any sort of space when it comes to you — "do you return this love i bear for you? or have i erred in laying such a burden at your feet? i would not wish to force my affections upon you uninvited."

"listen to me cause i wont say it twice," you reply breathlessly, and vi's heart stops only to race again with a fervor she never knew before — "this is no burden. i would marry you, violet cause you're the perfect suitor. you know about the realm, you know about what the people need, know me."

she's yours without having to ask for it, an intimacy that comes like a gift she bares to you only, standing while the dim warm light of the candlelights makes your lover look like a painting you've seen in elegant art galleries.

"i wish to have you not as my knight, but as an equal" vi's hair's still wet from the rain outside, dripping, freezing skin that makes her crave the higher temperatures of your body, how she's accustomed already to seek for warmth in the sin of your flesh: a shiver goes down her spine at the implications — "do you know how i wish upon your company in the night knowing you're there standing in the hallway? how i yearn to be with you even when you only seem to regret me? it must be some sort of witchcraft to some degree."

violet vanderson doesn't want the candles to be consumed in the dark, wants to see the details on your face when she's standing tall right in front of you, drinking in every detail. shaking still, the forever lonely dog who's patiently waiting at your door it's finally being welcomed inside when she's lowering to an almost clumsy kiss, deeper now and more than just a simple peck. her kisses are full of saliva, downright messy cause vi lacks of the self-control that's needed, something similar to a crusade she fights persistently to gain the holy terrains of your body, the grip she has on the sides of your face just to be able to explore into your mouth freely.

"please let it be witchcraft for i am lost in you" that long-denied desire burns uncontrollably now, tearing everything apart: how do you wield such power over her? make her so weak to your charms. "you've haunted my dreams, my thoughts, my every walking moment and i'm done with it. done with feeling torn, afraid of the consequences of giving into my desires."

"i'm sorry for making you feel this way," you murmur tenderly when leaning into her hands, relishing the grip she keeps to kiss you properly — "you're not the only one trying to resist, to push away. i've been fighting this too violet, fighting us for so long."

an almost silent smile spreads on vi's lips when she listens to your apology, the regret in your voice that only makes her chuckle.

"don't say sorry. it is i who should seek forgiveness," she's allowing herself to savor the feeling of your skin beneath her fingertips, your warm breath mingling with her own in a heady mix vi would love to make part of her lungs. "i'm too lost between what i want and what i know is right."

"violet- i am crazy about you," you dissipate every thought, and it makes her stay still for a moment as her hand reaches your pulse point, fingertips pushing against the pulsating flesh to notice the fast heartbeats — "attracted before my mother sent you to look after me when i escaped."

"yeah?" it feeds right into her ego when a drunken smile pulls the corners of the knight's lips, her other hand slides up your back as she anchors herself closer to you, taking a step forward only to make you take one backward — "what else huh? what else have you felt?"

she's stealing kiss after kiss now when cornering you against the wall behind your back, leading you to this drunken state as vi's wondering why you're still dressed in complex dresses so late at night knowing you must have refused any help from your maids. her fingers tangle in the threads of the corset pulling them apart impatiently, frustrated already when you have to help her for a moment to get rid of the annoying fabric.

"let me have you tonight," the cold rocks pressing into your skin makes you shiver when she's already peeling the infinite layers your dress seemed to have, trapping you between the wall and her own body. "let me stay with you before you answer for the realm. i fear i shall be a clumsy lover so great is my hunger for you my princess, but i want you to know about my devotion to you, how i feel."

it's ironic now when she spent months fighting against the notion of liking someone so out of reach, but now with you there in her arms, it feels like you belong to her as much as the knight belongs to you: a different kind of loyalty, a different kind of fidelity. swollen-kissed lips, vi seems to never get tired of it when she's finally tugging on the sides of your dress, letting it pool at your feet to leave you clad in a thin undergarment.

beautiful, make her spiral right into madness when the light dances over your skin, highlighting the curves and valleys the knight longed to explore with hands and mouth. you're so beautiful it's impossible to think about anything else, about her troubles when she can see the soft curves of skin from over the linen, drinking in the sight of the erotic near nudity like a striking hallucination.

"i have been yours since the day you took me there in the cabin," you reply, sharp control, you don't falter for a second when admitting the truth like a real queen — "even when your brain is too fuzzy to realize it."

you're making fun of her, the rough sound of your laugh before it turns into a gasp when vi's suddenly taking you, swapping you off your feet and finally leaving the dress behind on the floor right next to her armor only to carry you in her arms, walking you down to the only bed in the room.

perfectly made it wrinkles when she's tossing you on top of it, grabbing you by the ankle to make you slide in the satin duvet and stay there on the edge where she wants you to be.

"one time," you warn her when vi positions herself between your parted legs, looking down at you she has the feeling you're the one who needs the reminder more than she does, toying with the thread on your linen shirt as you spoke. "one time, i'm going to be a married woman, i'm not ever going to cheat, ever."

"one time?" she plays coy for a second only to test you, cause in reality the knight would comply with every wish you make like she's taught to. "one time what?"

"you know what-"

"one time," vi repeats for herself too. "yes, i get it. one time."

words now lacked sense, after that it's similar to being granted permission to heaven, a plate of food on a tiring day. your skin shivers when vi's making you lay back in the bed, crawling on top of your displayed figure as you settle against the goose-feathered pillows. her weight pulls you down against the mattress when she seats — you lack of the underwear that prevents you from feeling her ass right where the linen begins, the cool of her skin clashes with the warmth of your own and its nothing but seconds until you become aware and notice the subtle dampness that grows between the knight's thighs and leak to your mound, coating it with what must be her arousal.

"you're a feast- a feast to the eye and every hungry part i carry" vi's voice's low now, rough and coated with lust when she's leaning closer, the shifting of her position making you blatantly moan at the minimal friction, "so exquisite."

to punctuate her words, the knight catches the stiff peak of your breast between her lips, tongue flat against the linen cause the material's so thin she doesn't mind it, too desperate to care when the undergarment gets soaked with her own saliva and becomes transparent enough to end up being nothing.

her hands map every dip, every imperfection, every curve and plane to memory. it obliges her to keep her eyes open, heavy-lidded cause the warrior wants to learn about the face you make when she's finally making you crumble, deluged moans she hides as her thumb circles and teases the sensitive flesh, marking you up with her kisses cause its the only brand she can leave in you. her personal brand.

and it's true cause she's a clumsy lover due to desperation. your body's inviting, pliant under her sloppy marks, her saliva glistens transparent in your skin as an encouragement when you fucking squirm as vi begins to grind against you with a requirement she cannot explain rationally.

her hands drag the linen out of your body, fingers curl against the fabric, clinging to you like a lifeline before being able to finally explore that skin-to-skin contact she's been dreaming about for weeks. vi's hips move in a barely discernible circle at first that makes you slick enough to help her grind against you faster, hand on your lower stomach, the knight pushes you hastily against the mattress each time she drags herself against you, making the bed creak and groan at the movement — funny. she could actually cum just like that.

"fuck vi, you look so good," you can't deny the view either, messy cherry hair falling over her shoulders, chaotic strands when vi's mouth hangs wide open — tits slightly bouncing with every move; there's a trail of hair that installs just bellow her navel and joins like a secret path to the trimmed pink hair in her cunt, muscles flex on each strike, you let her use you cause she looks so good while doing it, makes you fight for a kiss you demand by roughly pulling her against your chest.

"c'mon sit properly," you plead against her mouth, — "i know that's not what they teach you in training, so stop teasing me like that."

the comment makes her blush, cheeks matching with the hair as she finally understands what you're saying: yeah it feels good when you're stealing the air from her lungs, but when you make her shift in her comfortable seat on top of you? stars settle on vi's vision as you guide her between your legs, and now in tangled limbs you gift your knight the perfect access to rub her dripping cunt against yours, quick response when vi's hips cant forward to seek more of that delicious friction.

that's so damn good. pulls her into a state she cannot control, wishing desperately to be consumed by your touch, your commands and whatever you need from her, so damn good when vi's moving on top of you confidently, holding your thigh so she can control your body enough to mold you against her.

"d'you feel how we fit together?" she asks, the words slur together when her head falls back with a devastating moan — the knight swears she can feel your sensitive folds that part to knead with her own, soaking wet, it only adds to her desired nirvana. "how our bodies respond to each other's touch?" 

in response, you're taking your fingers right against her parted lips with no need to say it out loud, not by the look on your face as vi gathers a good amount of saliva before spitting; lavish, it falls to coat the length of your fingers, transparent and efficient helps you slide between your combining bodies, adding to the friction before you're using your free hand to grip the knight's waist so you can have control of her and make her feel your soaked fingers rubbing on the sensitive nub she's been constantly planing against you, pushing harder, faster.

"you got the prettiest pussy of the realm," you praise, too concentrated on whats happening between your thighs to see the need in her face as vi bites her lip overwhelmed — "all pink, fat and pliant for your future queen."

man she's barely able to nod properly, all vi can manage to do is whimper already lost in the obscene sound of your joined arousal, the way it leaks to coat your thighs and hers in the most sticky mix. slick and abundant, soaks your sheets when the warrior's looking at the juncture where your body and hers meet: oh the things she'd do to sink her face between your legs just as filthy as you are!

you push her to go faster, when you're subtly spreading her apart to make her rub against you better, helping to create a filthy symphony vi can only make with you. it's fucking primal at some point, this need, this utter starvation when the knight's movement becomes erratic, when your fingers move with purpose to stroke in that perfect spot that makes her strangely vocal.

"mmf-please" the cherry-haired says defeated — "please- my princess, please slow down."

you don't seem to listen at first until she's pulling your hands away from her, grabbing you by the wrist so she can have enough control to hold them over your head — "slow," she manages to say again, cause vi wish to relish the moment, savor every part of you. "the sun's not up yet, and we don't have to rush this."

"vi..."

you're ready to reply, fight her words but her fingers wrap around your wrists too tightly and there's no chance to fight it cause it wont work either: the knight's stronger than you are, can keep you in place after years of rough training, survival. makes vi forget about her force as her digits dig into your skin and you're unable to ever move from where you are.

tortuous and way crueler than before, it elicits only pleasure when she's dragging herself across your slit in the most intimate way, soaked, engorged clit that brushes against your own, it only spurs vi to a new quest, a new fire that spreads on dry grass until there's nothing else.

"look at me. i want you to know its me when i fuck you like this," she leans against you using the grip on your hands as an anchor, close to your face, but with enough distance to not fall for a much needed kiss before speaking again— "i don't think no one will ever make you feel like this, my princess."

her eyes. it's so difficult to not lose yourself in the blue. drift away in the ocean when her moans blend with yours and its the most delightful music you've ever heard. a bundle of nerves on where the knight's too aware of the threads of arousal that connected your pussy to her own, the messy white that leaks and smears against your parted legs.

if its a dream, violet wishes to never wake up. scares her cause it fills her with need, completes her as she's left behind with no idea on how to reign it in. your eyes swallow her only to leave the knight in the spirals of your mind, the holes and riptides she would go through with sword and shield.

nothing else exists more than rough breathings, the constant war your lungs experience and the lewd sounds of flesh on flesh that echo through the empty room. she's making your body quake and clench, taking you there at her own rules and you comply, pliant and ready to satisfy her needs.

"open up," its a new feeling when you part your lips apart for her, your own mouth already flooded with contained saliva, yet still didn't stop vi from spitting a good amount of saliva into your buccal cavity before adding — "that's it. swallow, good fucking girl."

is she a part of you now? when staring into your eyes, fucking you tenderly: is she a part of you? of your needs? of your desires like you belong in hers? your sinful smile is nothing but a gift on her head, the fluids you're covered with, the invisible saliva that coats your chin.

she doesn't need any fingers, no extra addition as her hips snap forward in a blur of motion, gained force as vi seems to forget about her no-rush-plans, the force of her thrusts making the headboard of the bead slam against the wall hard enough to leave a fucking dent.

close, the knight's hands close around your throat before leaving wet, messy kisses over your lips, mouth wide open when she applies some good old pressure over your pulse point and its enough to make you say some praises that only blend together because it's damn near impossible to modulate complete sentences, a battle for oxygen that makes your knight smile drunk in the control she takes, on knowing she reduced you to this state.

"it's not cheating when you always belonged to me, far before any prince."

vi's words strike hard like lighting, like the storm that poured outside the castle walls and tinted the streets in a glistening new dimension. it's true. true under any circumstance: you've belonged to the knight far before any prince who asked for your hand in marriage.

it's intense, violet cannot help but be intense when it comes to you, her princess, the reason why she chooses to carry an armor, endure the rough life only for the graciousness of having a royal looking her way. connection, it's like the world finally listens to her and her lame thoughts cause it reduces to you and her, on the sweat, the satisfaction that starts in your overstimulated cunt and eats you entirely.

it builds on the base of violet's spine, tattooed flesh that tenses when the orgasm finally kicks in like a medical drug. she's been under several to treat many injuries but that moment? fucking drowns her like the most deadly cresting wave, sinks you with her to a point of no return cause the moment you cum its devastating — your skin shivers, cunt clenches empty and there it is. that promise you cannot take back.

how will it ever be one time only? how will you hide the fact you're fucking your most loyal knight to the entire court?

there's no many words that can cover the interaction, the warm sensation when you can feel vi's arousal run down your leg, mixing up with yours as a testament, a promise and a new devotion. your lips find hers in a renewed kiss, and she can feel the moans you try to hide against her mouth, the laziness in your movements as you try to deepen it, relish your knight as she deserves.

how will it ever be one time only if you're craving for more when it just ended?

"join me in the bath," so when vi's laying on top of you, full weight as she rests her head in your stomach, makes sense a subtle glimmer appears on her powder blue eyes for a moment, your fingers trace the lines of her tattoo and the silence's nice, invigorating in the subtle caress of the after sex — "i'll ask my maids to warm up the water."

"don't leave," violet's afraid for a minute, afraid that when you leave her side everything will disappear, never existing more than in her memories, makes the warrior hug you tightly as a way to make you stay in the bed with her. "let's stay like this for a little while. it's just a small break."

"small break? you crazy knight," the sound of your laugh is the most intoxicating sound she's ever heard, fighting for the number one spot with the sounds you make as you cum "what else you want to do now?"

"plenty still, i'm almost shocked my princess didn't expect it from before since tonight, the night will give us her eternity and the moon will shine for you only" she's having fun, careless, delicious fun she's been lacking from years when vi's carefully sliding down, swift, calculated moves when the knight settles between your already parted legs, a mess of her arousal, yours — hers.

"vi," you try to stop her. "m'dirty-"

"shh- that's even better. i'll make this quick and dirty," the knight promises, and you already know her mouth was pure sin as a cocky grin appears on her lips, that violet will feast from the belief of famine — "just the way my princess likes it."

the next few days are a blur.

violet vanderson's been kissing you all week cause she cannot fight the way you look at her like she's the only good thing habituating the castle, how you peel her entire persona in a short span of mere seconds, cornering you in the dark halls of the castle, surrendering to you when no one's around, spending countless nights in your room wrapped around the comfy sheets.

jealous as ever of a man who publicly holds your hand and tugs the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, vi's good to pretend she's not listening to whatever the prince's telling you so confident about — so far she has heard about the life you'll share after marriage, how many kids kino desires always silent and walking behind as you nod to his words.

"i could scarcely forget about you, violet" but in the night everything shifts, no prince or duty when you allow her to become your other half, the part you miss your entire day. your words are like a poem imprinted in her memories, a sacred kiss similar to a tattoo only she gets to see as your fingers travel across the right side of her body, facing you, the nudity only becomes proof of shared trust — "not with the taste of your passion still lingering on my tongue or the proof of your appetite dripping down my thighs."

and it's true cause she can taste herself on your lips when you kiss her, the subtle taste of her own arousal when you invade her mind like the worst war she's ever been a part of. vi blushes when each encounter appears in her memory just in time to feel your eyes on her face at the most unexpected moments of the day: a barely noticeable smile at the council meeting, a charged look of pure desire when you're seated on the throne, you're there every day.

it seems that violet vanderson is weak when it comes to love.

a sucker when your lips travel across the expanses of her toned stomach, following the way down to the trail of hair that disappears in a much more intimate place. the knight's hearing your rantings late at night when you dare to speak of political matters, your absolute hatred for the members of the council and how you loved to spend time outside the castle, that freedom that ties your words together — those rebel ideas that before horrified her now turning into details she looks up to.

"are you nervous?"

it's a dumb question now that she thinks about it. polished armor, silver covers her skin as vi's true form, a long cape that pools longer than ever when she has to drag it as she takes a seat in the first row. gold coats the surface of the main saloon, the red, fluffy carpet only showing the path to the throne and you, as usual, are much similar to a vision, a product of her imagination when you're consuming her to oblivion.

"yes," you admitted minutes before the ceremony as she' escorted you to the main entrance. "i've never been more anxious in my existence."

"breathe out. you're going to do amazing, my queen."

white dress, the delicate fabric sticks to your body like it was sculpted by the artist of the kingdom, complex and eye-catching patterns that manage to be simple and elegant. you're dressed with a gold tunica that makes you look small, and holding the jewels of the realm, you bow down to feel the weight of the crown pushing on your head like a halo that's coming down to choke on you, uncomfortable as ever, the metal wraps around your head and you stay there stoic as ever, as if you're feeling the power like a physical manifestation.

you're a queen. a queen through and through. a queen who's going to marry next week with her consort husband from noxus, a queen that has no time to think about her devoted knight who's too lost into worshiping her every private night.

you've come so far that pride settles on her chest, as your declared right hand, vi relishes on the medals on her chest, the new title she's granted days before your coronation when you hold the sword against her shoulder and name her the head of the knights — from over sevika or any other important person, its a spot she deserves even if she didn't fucked you to sleep every night, because she's good at what she does, the best.

you lay out your heart for her wide as the moon shines in the sky, and its hard when violet cant take it anymore, when she can't fight you like this.

you torment her every living moment and she cannot ignore now the way you feel, the way you need her, the way you crave her touch like air. curses herself cause she cannot just take what you offer, cause she's not made of stone when your love, your desire it's a force that's slowly crumbling the walls she carefully keeps around her heart. a security you're good at trespassing.

long live to the queen.

she says it louder than anyone, your so-called future husband, the members of the council and the noble court that only seemed to be jealous of the position you're being granted only by being born in a lineage of royalty. the blue blood on your veins that pumped your heart alive — cause you're chosen by the higher forces in the sky.

long live to the queen.

vi repeats it with the same enthusiasm, hating herself to rotten pieces cause she knows she'll choose a life of a secret only to be granted the time she's been granted with you, even when you carry this stupid ring the knight hates to see, when she has to endure that lack of emotion when the day comes and there's duties to fulfill.

as the rest, she bows to you. lowers her head as a sign of respect: did the same for your mother, the same for your father, but this time's different. different cause she'd died for you without a declaring war on course, relishing already every moment alive she shared with you by her side.

makes your knight melt in the hand-painted chair she's seated on when you're smiling at her, being hard to fake you're not head over heels with her cause in reality, she's the only one in the realm who you trust enough to share your fears with, your entire life.

you've sworn to the crown in front of the entire kingdom, stand with your chin high as you accept the love of the people, the chants, the screams of joy dedicated to the kind princess, the rebel princess who in reality carries a heart of gold. however, no one expects when you're clearing your throat, casting silence among the public cause no recent king nor queen has made a speech on their coronation day.

vi’s brows furrow in curiosity: what exactly are you doing?

"my people," it's practiced when your voice casts and spreads against every corner of the room, reaching the ears even of the peasants who pushed each other to have a better view of a historic day — "i'm taking a moment to express my devotion to the city we’ve built together, the people that fill it, a kingdom that has only shown me mercy and love that goes beyond any position."

it's always nice to see you like that anyway. when you've trained for those public speeches, to satisfy the mass and saccharine the ears of a population that always talks so highly about you.

"this very special day i make myself the realm's weapon, and i promise to you i'll bring nothing but the sunlight in every corner" it makes the citizens go crazy: how not when their majesty's promising her absolute devotion to them? — "things will change upon this day for the very best. we'll push together to a future of freedom, peace and justice."

damn right vi's fucking you tonight until you repeat that very same discourse word by word.

"this is why i'd like to announce as well, the ending of my marriage negotiations that's been taking place in the castle, as i won't be no longer marrying to the prince of noxus" the gasp is audible and general as you lay out the news, and to vi herself is a shocking as her body paralyzes in the middle of her seat: what did you said? "this does not mean our nation is in tension with the noxian nation, despite all the misunderstanding we've made new treatments that will join our nations more than ever. it's nothing but a proof of our new liberty. we should be provided with choices, freedom."

she's too afraid to look at the council, too pale to even look at you or kino. in all reality violet's already panicking in her head, blushing red to the point it creeps down her neck because once in her life she stops being the one who's losing all honor, who's always in the dirt expecting the worst: are you ending this political marriage for her? because you'd like to marry her instead of a man?

vi dares to thrive on her ego for once in her life. she's been a good lover, tender, always near cause the knight needs to have you close. so how will she not dare to say its for her? that you're putting a stop to it cause kino's not your knight?

"this only proves my focus on the realm and the people" you add, ignoring the discontent of the court and the nobles — "to prosperity. to peace and unity."

long live to the queen.

good fuck vi just wants to get you out of there. pull you to the desired privacy of your room and once again make the world stop just for you and her; submerse in your eyes and that shimmer of mischief when you find her in the most personal eye contact ever; so quick when you wink at her as you sit back on the throne, that it got vi's breathing hitching on the back of her throat for a moment.

fuck.

how were you able to hide this from her? be so secretive of something so important? violet would like to be annoyed, but it only melts her armor back to her skin as a way to leave her without nothing, bare her entire self for your eyes only as you seem too worried about her, too invested in her actions.

you're prepared for the trouble as well, aware of the disaster it will cause when the council's screaming at you behind closed doors like you were still a child on their sixteen birthday, making you remain firm at your decisions without faltering for a second: you're not getting married, and if they continue to question you decisions you'd have to take the right measurements as the regent queen.

the news of you neglecting the hand of any man travels throughout the kingdom fast enough to make vi's heart jump at the unexpected, by noon it turns real and tangible as you politely escort the noxian empire out of the castle the same day of your coronation. the knight can barely contain the smile for the rest of the day when she has this desperate need to push you against the closest wall she can find only to have your attention for the short span of five minutes. only five minutes.

"so- secrets. you kept this to yourself," she points out in the first moment you're left alone with her. "do you like surprises by any chance?"

"i don't," she's so desperate to kiss you. break the distance that separates you from her body and her hungry hands that it makes it hard to stay even annoyed at you, at your tone when you answer — "i just thought it would be nice hearing on my coronation day about how i'm not going to get married."

"nice, you thought it was nice," vi shakes her head almost as if she doesn't believe a word of what you're saying — "clearly being a queen has fed into your ego 'cause of course your simple, devoted knight would like to know from before, your majesty."

"i'm sorry," you reply with a rather shy smile, almost ashamed of yourself for a moment, "i kinda thought it was romantic, tell everyone to go fuck themselves."

"oh it is," vi agrees. the sun strikes her face and for a moment you can't help but get stuck in her beauty too, the lines of her jaw that now shifted from sharp to curvy, soft and inviting to your touch. "it's the ultimate act of romance."

man.

late at night when she's wrapped naked in your enormous sheets, her skin brushes against your own as she holds you close and you can feel the warm breath from vi parted lips when speaking on your shoulder, tender when she's trying to mix you back into her skin, carry you in her chest.

"was it for me?" she's nervous when asking, holding you in her arms afraid you might go for a moment — "your ultimate act of romance-- is it because of me?"

a second, two. vi's heart beats so loud before you kiss her tenderly after the agonizing wait. slowly this time and full of care cause you need her to feel it, become aware of how deep you carry her in your heart, cause that's the girl you're going to marry, the knight who has dedicated her entire life to protect the castle, tired already of pretending to be someone you aren't because of a promise that's only tearing you down.

"did it work vi? did i make your heart skip a beat for a second?"

you look at her only to enjoy the sight of your future wife finally blushing, the subtle red on her cheeks thats only evidence thanks to the constant warm light of the candle casting her glow on vi's figure.

"you want to marry me?" she asks this time, serious, real.

"i do."

your response hangs in the air, and violet would like to slap herself at the lack of romance in her answer when she's a victim of her impulses. too late to say anything else when the knight's already drunk in happiness: the news of the cancellation of your marriage, your body fitting perfectly against her own, that night there locked out in your room, you in her arms.

making you look back at her, vi's pulling you into a clumsy kiss when going through the worst withdrawal of the century — "ask me properly" she says in between kisses, saliva clinging to her lips that shined in yours as a matching fluid. "ask me to be your wife."

everywhere. violet's everywhere when you can recognize the kisses that shift from your jaw to your back, curious hands that hold you close, desperate to feel something, be aware now of your disheveled heartbeats.

and it's similar to the cabin, the very same even when vi's knee slips past between your legs and she doesn't need an invitation to touch you cause you're her own, she's yours too and it's a silent agreement as your hips unbuckle against her leg and she's guiding you into a madly slow rhythm, back against her naked chest: right there where she needs.

"marry me," you say, half-breathless and half-drunk in her touch. "marry me and fuck the council, the nobles and runeterra itself. marry me and rule by my side, please."

you're begging her to marry you and vi's marking your back already combusting in your words, leaving this huge marks that will show on from over the dress tomorrow cause now everyone should be aware, everyone should know about the countless nights in your bed, the infinite kisses from her you carry on your lips, the tattoo on your cheek invisible and mirroring her own like a mark of honor, a medal.

everyone should know violet vanderson's the one who got you like this.

"marry me, please. marry me and be my consort queen. i won't have anyone else by my side."

"mmh, the council's gonna be pissed--" vi laughs against your shoulders, aware of the wet trail that now dampens her leg, the erratic moans you fight so hard to keep in line as the pleasure becomes unbearing, trying so hard for her — "are you sure it's possible, my queen? marry a common peasant?"

"the council's job is to follow my rules and do nothing but advice" she recognized her own words from before now in your mouth, adopted like a dogma of your own: that's her girl. "i don't have to follow their suggestions if they aren't fitting. and they are not fitting."

the knight steals the air from your lungs until your brain becomes dumb and forgetful as she kisses you again, again and again until your lips are swollen with too much friction, too much contact, even when she keeps your face to the side uncomfortable as ever just to receive more of her intoxicating kisses, more of her.

"yes i'll marry you, my queen. yes, i'll always catch you," the warrior whispers in your ear like a poem, a secret only you can hear — "no matter how high i make you fly, i'll be there to catch you every single time."

rings, promises, caresses and need, the night's not enough. the minutes cannot begin to cover it all but it's a start, a start to a decade, to a century, to as long as you exist tangled in her soul.

marriage. under the moon you promise yourself to her in something far more important than any other ceremony, a private celebration with no witnesses and no papers more than murmured words of love in the middle of a dark, silent night.

your wife. violet vanderson's your consort queen.

now the tricky part was breaking the news to the council about the queen's marriage to a girl-- your knight, but that's a whole different story, made up for another time.

[flw3rrr]

Accepting grief

paring : Joel miller x reader

Summary: In which reader struggles to accept the loss of Joel, letting grief and trauma take over, desperate to find solace.

warnings: Mentions of blood, Angst, drinking to conceal emotions, PTSD, death, No y/n mentioned, Reader accepts the loss and heartbreak at the end, no description of reader (if anything is missed please let me know and i’ll add it💖)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: It’s been quite some time since i’ve written something, crazy things in life happened so this may be a little rusty. but enjoy (i cried writing this)

Divider by: @cafekitsune

“Joel!” The loud wind from the snowstorm made it impossible to understand what words were being spoken. The distance is barely visible, huddling to yourself trying to keep some warmth inside your body. You left Jackson twenty minutes ago, with the deep urge to go out and find him.

Thoughts of losing Joel makes your heart race. Both having a somewhat normal life now to experience meant everything to you.

Just ahead you see a cabin almost looking abandoned. Carefully sliding off your horse, grabbing your pistol, and quietly walking around for the back door. Noticing fresh footprints and a cracked door puts your guard up even higher than it was.

The sound of grunts and cries allows your feet to move faster. Approaching the door, leaning against it, listening for anything.

“Please dont do this!” ellie begged. 

Thoughts ran through, body still as a stone statue. Possible outcomes of how to handle the situation ran through your mind. Taking deep breaths in and gripping your gun, you opened the door, shooting anyone you saw standing up.

Aiming for anybody until you were pushed down onto the floor by a man fighting him, desperately trying to get out of his grip, kicking, wiggling, anything to escape the hold. But by the grace of God, you managed to grab a shard of glass, cutting him right through, pushing him off; his blood was now on you.

After looking at the man who just attacked you, your head turned to Joel… just barely missing the sight of the girl.

His face, his body, barely even there. Blood covered every part of his face. You were stuck, unable to move. Breathshivering, stuck. Until suddenly a loud sound happened, breaking you out of the frozen trance. Noticing the girl right before you fall onto the wooden floor.

Blinking, You turned and saw Ellie, gun raised. Watching her go to Joel, crying for him to get up. He never did, and you feel your own heart break into thousands of pieces. It wasn’t until now that your own body broke down. Falling onto your knees, tears flowing down. Nothing could ever prepare you for this.

_________________________________

It has been weeks since Joel has been gone. Which means you’ve been without him for longer than you ever have been without him. He’s not there when you wake up, he’s not there when you go to bed, and he’s not even there to visit your dreams.

‘Damn you, Joel.’ You thought. ‘you leave me, but can’t even visit me in my sleep.’

Taking a sip of the drink you held didn’t fully give you what you wanted, but it was enough for now. People’s words of sympathy and advice are all you’ve heard the past few days. You knew they were trying to help, but words never bring people back, so you just thank them and walk on off.

Many people were worried about you, though, taking to the bottle more than usual, avoiding them, and staying home. The only place you had never visited, though, was Joel’s grave. It hurt knowing he lays six feet under, looking the same way he looked on the day of. His scars and wounds still on him.

It sickened you never being able to visit him; you wouldn’t see him, only his stone. That’s why you never left to see him on the day of his funeral; you never showed. Never liking the thought of burials and how their lifeless body stayed there forever. Nobody told you how it was; they knew you didn’t wish to know.

Every topic leading to him you avoided like the plague, but the only person you ever spoke about him with was Ellie. Knowing she was just as hurt as you, allowing her to open up to you if needed. But for others, his name never existed. The fear of talking about him allows flashbacks to appear. swarming back, reliving it once more.

You’ve worn some of his clothes for his smell, but not every day due to the fear of it going away so quickly. But right now it’s eleven pm. You planning to head to the bar for a drink and wash the pain and hopefully get a good sleep tonight later on. 

Slipping on your own boots, along with his coat, you begin to make your way to the bar for a drink. The quiet sound of snow crunching beneath your feet along with the wind howling calms you down. Never have felt calm before he passed. Almost like the earth’s way of trying to soothe you and convince you to turn back home. But you never turned back home; you just kept on walking. 

Once you had arrived, you took your place at one of the stools. It was quiet aside from the small chatting from the few left behind. It’s what you needed after everything: nobody telling you they were sorry for your loss and that they were there if you needed anything. It was almost as if it was a script given to everybody for them to rehearse just for your own ears.

Memories fled back to old parties taking place, small and soft ones that were held very dearly in your heart. sharing drinks with Joel and teasing him on how he should join the others for a dance, but of course that always ends with him rejecting the idea. But the most special part of that time was when he agreed, but only if it was with you instead.

Thinking about it, that was the best dance you ever had with him. The way his one hand lay around your waist as the other held your hand, never wanting to leave the moment you felt finally safe here in Jackson with him. Wanting to spend the rest of your entire life with him, perhaps your own family, if not, then you’d possibly own a couple of dogs and cats.

Lost in your own thoughts, a tap brought you back to reality, a reality where Joel no longer existed. Looking back, you noticed one of your friends. Not really a close friend but somebody who can relate to your own pain and suffering, Lily. She too had lost somebody she loved dearly, her husband gone for about four years. She’s never said how he passed, saying it was too brutal.

“Hey, how have you been doing lately?” She asked with sincerity in her face. It felt nice knowing she too understood that hearing words of sympathy over and over can be tiring and that wanting to be asked how you were is something you wanted more.

“Not sure, really. It could be better, though.” It was all truth. You weren’t really sure how you were at this moment, but you know it’s not how you normally feel. All the mental pain that clouds over your body drains everything from you, not being able to stand or even eat at times. It kept eating at you. Nothing could help, not even tears. You refused many times to accept that Joel was gone forever.

Lily just looked at you, examining your body and face, reading you like an open book. She knew what it felt like, and she saw that somebody just like her at one time needed help just like she did. Gently she put her hand over yours, her thumb softly stroking your hand, comforting in a way you thought.

“It’s hard, I understand. You refuse to acknowledge that somebody you love deeply is gone forever, and it ruins you for days, weeks, and years.” Each word Lily spoke was filled with honesty, careful to pick the correct wording but still comforting.

Listening to her words was hard to hear, but by some means, you listened.

“If we continue to ignore what pains us, scares us. It ruins our mentality even more than the actual death, and no matter how hard you try to hide from it, it never goes away.” She was right. You tried to hide away from the facts and fear. But deep down, it was nagging at you constantly. Evening affecting your own dreams.

Taking a sip of the drink you held, you then looked at her, eyes watery, drained, and tired. “So how do I fix what pains me? What do I need to take or do so that I may get rest from this?” The desperate need to get help is what you needed the most. That day is the only memory of him that clouds you endlessly.

“It’s not easy, but you have to face whatever bothers you most. Perhaps something he owned or anything. Confronting it slowly helps you fully grasp and understand that it’s alright to move on.” Those words were all you needed to hear to realize what you had to do. Needing to visit his grave and process he’s no longer on this earth.

“How long do you think it would take for me to accept?” The fear of never accepting the loss laid upon you. Hoping if there is an afterlife, you secretly beg the spirits to help you along.

Lily softly smiled at you. “That is up for you to decide when you’re ready to accept him being gone and let it help you continue growing into somebody better than you were before. Who knows? You may accept it after a few hours or even months.” Her words processed in your brain for a moment before you understood. You realized she was giving advice to you that she was never given back then, hoping to make yours go by quicker and easier.

“I understand. Thank you, Lily. I’ll keep your words in mind and maybe try it out.” With one last sincere smile and hug, you left. It was going on at one in the morning, half of the town away and sleeping safely. While walking, you noticed you were right by the cemetery where he lays. Everything was quiet and still aside from the wind, almost as if it was telling you to enter. Perhaps it was a sign to try it out now?

Perhaps with nobody around and just you in the night and the calm cold, it would help you. As if on cue, your body automatically began its way inside the cemetery. You saw nobody aside from headstones and flowers and letters everywhere. It was almost as if everything left you inside, leaving ultimate peacefulness within you. As if you had just passed on as well.

Even though you weren’t there to see him buried, you knew where he was. You walked right up to read his headstone. “Joel Miller.” Standing there in silence, you just observed, taking in the detail of how the wood was carved. Slowly sitting on your knees, your eyes look at the flowers that lay on his spot. From so many people that may never have known him like you did but still felt the pain just as you, Tommy, and Ellie did.

Not knowing what to do, unsure if you should just look or talk, emotions overwhelming your body, tears begin to flowdown. Not a sobbing cry, a quiet and simple one. “Damn it, Joel, why did you have to try to be a hero and save somebody?” 

Even though you tried to sound angry, you couldn’t help but crack a smile out of it. He always would try to save somebody he never knew, and that’s why you loved him dearly. “You know I’ve been crazy since you’ve been gone, Joel. I’m not really sure how to act without you by my side every day.” It was the truth, hating waking up every day and not seeing him right by you still asleep.

“You go on and die without me and yet can’t even visit my own dreams. What’s up with that, Joel?” A smile still lays upon your face, the wind blowing more, moving the trees. Perhaps it’s a way of him showing you that he is laughing? Whatever sign it is, you’ll take it. Comfort from him in any form possible is what you need the most right now, and you’ll take this one too.

“Joel, you know I miss you dearly and still love you. You were the only person I’d ever want to grow old with and die with.” Silence. Nothing but your own breathing and the wind could be heard, but it was almost like a blessing. Something you’ve never had for a long time. Peace.

Peace at last laid upon you, and it felt like you were being hugged. Maybe this was a way for Joel to let you know that everything would be alright. Perhaps you finally accepted the truth that he would no longer be with you physically but still with you mentally. Cherishing this moment, you closed your eyes, picturing Joel just as he was before he was taken.

You knew now that it was time to accept him being gone, to let his spirit rest so that you both can go different ways in different universes. Before leaving, you left one of your rings that you wore every day; it was one of his favorites. commenting on how he loved how it looked on you. It was time for you to give him something to take with him on his new journey.

Slowly getting up and turning back and making your way home, you felt cleaner, calmer, and at full peace. Perhaps now Joel can be at peace now that you released your own pain. It was time to start anew and join back with others and maybe guide others who had lost someone they loved.

That night as you got ready for bed, getting all comfortable and situated, you enjoyed the feeling of being able to go to sleep like you did before, with no fear, anger, or sadness. Comfort is all you felt, and as you drifted off, you felt like Joel was right with you. And that night you had a dream with him in a beautiful garden, sunny and calming. That’s when you knew. 

You’d finally accepted your own grief.

[queersolarfandompage]

Hilson Masterlist:

A bunch of fics I’ve read in the last month, month and a half. All works are completed and over 9,000 words per fic.

My Love’s an Arbutus - Rated G

House gets a soulmate, WIlson gets Hanahaki. It ends suprisingly well for both of them.

Handle with Care - Rated G

This is the story of how James Wilson ended up on his best friends doorstep with a baby in a carseat he’d stolen from the maternity ward, and the chaos that followed.

A Thousand Teeth (And Yours Amoung Them) - Rated T

Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back.

Systemic - Rated T

Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis.

Touch Therapy - Rated T

It’s not that House needs the human contact. It’s just that when you’re sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes.

I Never Sleep With Married Men - Rated T

House and Wilson are married. It’s not what you think.

Double or Nothing - Rated T

House kisses Wilson’s cheek as part of an ‘act’, it feels too natural to him, so, of course, he has to turn it all into a game, Wilson catches up pretty quickly. The duckings try to not get scarred for life.

The Line of Thought - Rated T

Cameron, Foreman, and Chase keep on trying to get into the little details of House’s love life. House doesn’t like that one bit.

In the Eye of the Storm - Rated T

House does not want Wilson to invite his subordinates over for dinner, and he definitely doesn’t want them to be stuck there due to an unexpected snowstorm. But could the two of them find what they need?

Drew Stars Around my Scars - Rated T

James Wilson loves Gregory House in secret, but perhaps he is closer to knowing than he realizes.

Oreos, a Cane, and a Hell of a Lot of Diapers - Rated T

Hilson AU in which House and Wilson are waiting for the birth of their two babies. Watch them survive their first few weeks of parenthood along with the struggles it takes to be a parent.

Impossible - Rated T

“Wilson, hey-“

“…This is James Wilson. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Oh.

There was a long, sustained tone, and House cleared his throat.

“Wilson. I’m sorry for what I said to you in January. It was over the line, and I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and… I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know that I’m…”

He looked down at the flowers.

“I’m sorry.”

House and Wilson both have Hanahaki Disease, and would rather die than give up their feelings.

No Need to Worry (Making Up Your Mind) - Rated T

House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can’t join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson’s problem.

Something to Prove Series - Rated T

Something to Prove

When House suddenly want to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he’d held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

Marathons

House and Wilson decide to let the other people in their lives in on the fact that they’re dating. But no, they can’t just sit them down and tell them. Of course not. That would be too boring.

After School - Rated T

Gregory House is incredibly bored with his life when James Wilson is hired to teach Anatomy & Physiology alongside him at Princeton Plainsboro High School. Though he wants to maintain that same monotony he’s grown comfortable with, House quickly finds out that one school year can change a lot.

Life’s Harsh and Sweet Lessons - Rated T

House and Wilson find out that a simple act of kindness can turn into something so much more for all involved. (I love this fic so much. They’re just gay dog dads.)

Losing Balance - Rated T

There’s a new case for House, in which Wilson gets stuck by chance. The relationship between the patiend and his best friend brings up new issues House and Wilson have to deal with. While the first simply chooses to ignore them, the second is forced to face the changes in their friendship and the influence that the people around them have on it.

Gaseous Nebula - Rated T

After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving on of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answeres. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

Ship of Fools - Rated M

The Captain’s a tyrant and possibly a madman, but when the crew rebels it’s Wilson who gets caught in the crossfire.

Bait and Switch - Rated M

Wilson tricks House into participating in a bachelor auction to benefit the hospital.

Fool’s Gold - Rated M

Don’t threaten what isn’t yours. (Dragon AU)

Old Machines - Rated M

Wilson said, “So we’re just two friends who want to have sex with each other, who aren’t going to do anything about it.”

Spoken with the increduility of a beautiful person with low impulse control. House shrugged.

“We’ve been that for years. Why mess with success?”

Wilson was looking at his mouth. He sounded strained. “I don’t think what we’re doing qualifies as success.”

Not as Easy as it Looks on TV - Rated M

House and Wilson share an intimate moment. the likes of which Wilson had never seen before in their three year relationship. It drives Wilson to realize he wants to marry House, but of course it’s never that easy, is it?

That’s How Strong My Love Is - Rated M

For once, Wilson doesn’t fall into a relationship, much to House’s irritataion.

Fresh Feeling - Rated M

House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else.

Love Is The Drug - Rated M

What happens when two best friends love each other to the point of hating each other? They try to date and sulk about it.

The More It Took Away - Rated E

House has been hiding this little secret of his for years. Too bad it’s coming back to bite him on the ass.

The Escalated Butt Dial - Rated E

He thinks it must be an accident. Because all he hears is shuffling and soft… clapping? He’s about to hang up and laugh because House butt-dialed him while drunk when he hears it.

A very, very obviously sexual grunt. A moan, if more specific. Whatever. Not whatever. He can’t really breath right now, or think; call back laterr.

He wants to hang up. This is an invasion of privacy. This isn’t okay. House butt-dialed him while masurbating, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like he wants to listen. Right? So. Just hang up.

The One-Eyed King Takes All - Rated E

The classic crew plays strip poker.

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old Series - Rated E

You’re the Only One That Never Gets Old

An accidental kiss… and a few taht are not so accidental.

Let’s Take A Breath (Before We Go, Go, Go)

House kisses Wilson to piss off an homophobic patient. It might ahve been his best idea yet.

Keep Me Where the Light Is - Rated E

House has his Earth shattering, (good) knee weakening, life changing revelation about Wilson at such an inopporune time, that he’s tempted to laugh. He would have, if he hadn’t been hands deep in his patient’s organs.

Absinthe - Rated E

Wilson wants a new apartment, House is up to no good, and strange metaphors abound.

Experimental Procedures - Rated E

An offhand comment leads Wilson to test out some unusual methods of pain relief for House. (They’re extremely effective.)

Familiarity (Breeds Contempt) - Rated E

House and Wilson stumble into a relationship, but they run into problems before long.

Around We Go Once More - Rated E

Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a ‘grounghog day’ style constatly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try and seduce Wilson; the one he’s always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would ‘ruin the friendship.’ This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.

Stay With Me - Rated E

House has always depended on Wilson’s friendship, but now he finds himself depending on him for his very life - and Wilson realizes that both mean more to him than he ever realized.

I’ll See You In Court - Rated E

Every year, the council chooses ten alphas to participate in the breeding run — this year Wilson has been chosen. He’ll be forced to bond with whichever omega he knocks up whilst he’s in heat. When House hears, he’s forced to take action. There’s only one way to get pulled from the yearly run, and taht’s to file an intent to bond. And in order to file an intent to bond, you need an omega willing to go through with it.

There’s only a week until Wilson’s heat, but luckily, House knows just the omega for the job.

Things That Go Bump - Rated E

Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what’s going on between them.

If He Spends That Dough (Imma Throw Him a Bone) - Rated E

James Wilson loves to feel needed, so who is hOuse to refuse him?

Money, sex, and love is all you need. In that order.

Howler Tone - Rated E

The calls always happen late at night, and they’re extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way.

House develops a new vice. Wilson, as always, enables him.

He Won’t Tell You That He Loves You - Rated E

In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can’t stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.

A Valuable Friend - Rated E

Wilson has been recieving mysterious late night phone calls. He’s rather House kept his nose out of it - but we all know how well that goes.

Baby Mikey - Rated E

House gets a visitor that will change his life, while Wilson struggles to figure out exactly who he is and where he fits into House’s new life.

Buy Some Time, It’s On My Dime - Rated E

The one where House is a phone sex operator.

You’re So Fuckin’ Special (Run) - Rated E

It was full of pictures.

And all of them are of Wilson.

In Every Lie, In Every Truth That You’d Deny - Rated E

Wilson just needs someone to take care of while he recovers from yet another divorce. That’s all this is.

Ath least, that’s what House thinks.

A Patient’s Guide to Living with ICS - Rated E

House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference.

Hooked (On Feeling Low) - Rated E

There are things even House cannot control.

Can Wilson continue picking up the pieces?

A Modest Proposal - Rated E

Tritter’s case agianst House still depends on subpoenaeded testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusal solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all.

Silk, Lace, and Satin Bows - Rated E

“What’re those,” House lilted, taking a firmer hold on the blanket and tugging, even as Wilson cluched the blanket to his chest, his eyse impossibly wide as he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” Wilson gritted out, cheeks flushing hotly. “I just… I borrowed some underwear from Sam. It’s nothing. Just get out, House,” the younger man hissed, clutching the blanket more firmly to his chest.

The Marrying Kind - Rated E

The one where House is a wedding planner and Wilson keeps on getting married.

TGIF - Rated E

House is stuck living the same Friday over and over and over and over again. A Groundhog Day AU with a medical mystery, the pursuit of true love, and egregious references to Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell.

Correlation Does Not Equal Causation - Rated E

“This… this hasn’t happened before.”

“Most people say that in the opposite situation.”

Alternatively titled: Wilson Doesn’t Actually Have Whiskey Dick

Don’t mind me just adding another fic here.

Grin and Bear It - Rated E

In a world where soulmates can feel each other’s pain, Wilson had always grown up wondering if he really had a soulmate. Sure, he could feel the occasional twinge like that of a bruise or cut without actually seeing one, but he had always chalked those up to random aches and pains that everybody got.

Wilson would keep this mindset until both he and House begin feeling agonizing leg pain, and a realization dawning from it causes Wilson’s entire life and well-being to change forever.

I’m always looking for new Fics so if there’s a fic you think is missing from this list, let me know and I’ll check it out!

[little-jana]

"Tension and Snowstorms"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: tension, kissing

Words: 1.6k

Summary: A snowstorm leads to Spencer and Reader being consumed by their ongoing tension.

The case had wrapped up late, as always. Everyone was exhausted, but a mix of relief and anticipation had settled over the team. New Year’s Eve was only hours away, and all I wanted was to get back home, put the past few days behind me, and enjoy some quiet time.

But fate had other plans.

The storm had hit harder than expected, and with the snow piling up outside, the airline had canceled all flights. That’s how I found myself in the hotel lobby, looking at Spencer Reid, who had that familiar expression of uncertainty on his face. We were the only two left from the team, the others already having found alternate routes or heading to their homes by car.

Spencer looked over at me, his brown eyes wide behind his glasses, his usual awkwardness radiating off him. “I… guess it looks like we’re stuck here for another night.”

I nodded, my mind a little clouded by the unexpected turn of events. I hadn’t anticipated spending the night with him, just the two of us. I’d always been drawn to him, but there was this silent, unspoken tension that had been building for months. There were moments, brief and fleeting, when I’d catch him looking at me a little too long, when his eyes would linger on my lips longer than necessary, when his voice would drop just enough to make my heart beat a little faster.

But now, with the hotel practically empty, it felt different. The air was thick with something I couldn’t quite name, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute.

“Want to grab dinner?” I asked, trying to break the quiet.

Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’m starving. Just… let me change real quick.”

I gave him a small smile, trying to ignore the way my stomach fluttered. “Alright, I’ll meet you in the lobby in twenty?”

“Sounds good,” he said, his voice almost breathless.

I walked away, my mind racing. There was something about the way he said that, like he was a little too eager, too nervous. It had been building for a while now—the attraction between us, the moments of stolen glances, the lingering touches when we’d pass things to each other, when we’d brush hands. But we’d never acted on it. He was still haunted by his past, and I was unsure if he’d ever want to cross that line.

I tried to shake it off as I returned to my room. A nice dinner with Spencer would be fine. Nothing more. After all, he was a colleague. A brilliant, quirky colleague who happened to be incredibly attractive. But I didn’t want to acknowledge that too much.

When I met him in the lobby later, I could see the tension in his posture. He was fidgeting with his glasses, a telltale sign that he was nervous. “Ready?” I asked, my voice softer than usual.

Spencer cleared his throat, adjusting his jacket. “Yeah, uh, just trying to decide if I should keep my jacket on or not.”

I took a step closer, resisting the urge to laugh at how nervous he was. “It’s freezing outside, Spencer. I think keeping it on is a good idea.”

He glanced at me, a little flush creeping up his neck. “Right, yeah, I was just thinking—never mind. Lead the way?”

I smiled, though it felt a little strained. “Sure.”

The restaurant wasn’t far, and as we walked together, the snow began to fall, creating a blanket of silence around us. It was quiet, and all I could hear was the crunch of our footsteps in the snow and the occasional hum of a car passing by. Spencer walked just a little too close, his shoulder brushing mine more often than was necessary. Each time it happened, my heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t tell if it was the cold or something else making me feel this way.

By the time we sat down for dinner, the atmosphere was even more charged. I couldn’t quite look him in the eye for too long, but I couldn’t stop stealing glances at his profile. The way his dark hair fell just right, how his lips moved when he spoke. I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart, as though it were picking up on the tension between us. Spencer, for his part, seemed just as affected. He was constantly shifting in his seat, picking at the edges of his napkin, his eyes darting toward mine before quickly looking away.

Dinner dragged on, but not in the usual way. Every moment felt like it was stretching, and the spaces between our words seemed longer, filled with something unsaid. I had the feeling that Spencer was keeping himself in check, maybe out of some sort of fear. Fear of what, though? Of me? Of his feelings? I had no idea. But it was maddening.

By the time we paid the check, my nerves were shot. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the proximity to him, but something inside me felt like it might snap.

We returned to the hotel, the hallway eerily quiet. Spencer had his hands in his pockets, and I could tell he was trying to keep his distance. But when we reached the door to my room, he paused, hesitating just outside it.

“Are you, uh…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “are you sure you want to go to bed already?”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. There was something in his voice, a slight crack in his usual composed tone. I wasn’t sure if it was a hint or if he was just trying to make small talk to fill the silence.

“I’m not really tired,” I said, a little too quickly. “But I’m not really sure what else to do either.”

Spencer’s gaze flickered to mine, the tension between us palpable. He shifted his weight, leaning slightly toward me. “You know, I was thinking we could—”

“Spencer,” I cut him off, my heart racing. “We don’t have to do this.”

He froze. “Do what?”

I stared at him, the distance between us shrinking with every passing second. “We both know there’s something here, but I don’t want to make things complicated. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes darkening. “I don’t know how to do this with you, okay?” His voice was strained, like he was fighting to keep his composure. “I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that there isn’t something between us, but I can’t anymore.”

My breath hitched in my throat as I watched his struggle. “What do you want from me, Spencer?”

He took a step closer, his face just inches from mine now. I could feel his breath on my skin, the heat of his body, and it made my heart race. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered. “But I want you. I can’t pretend that I don’t.”

The words hung in the air like a confession, raw and unspoken for so long. And in that moment, I knew that whatever had been building between us, whatever tension had been stretching thin for months, was about to break.

Before I could respond, he reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing the side of my face. It was soft and careful, but it ignited something deep inside me. He leaned in just enough that our lips were barely a breath away, and I could feel the weight of everything unsaid between us.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough with want. “But I can’t hold back anymore.”

And then he kissed me.

It wasn’t slow or tentative. It was desperate, urgent, as though we were both craving something we’d been denying ourselves for too long. The tension had snapped, and now all that was left was the heat and the electricity between us, crackling and alive.

His hands were on my back, pulling me closer, and I responded eagerly, my hands threading into his hair, tangling in the soft strands. I had no idea where this would lead, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t care. All I knew was that Spencer Reid was kissing me like he’d been wanting to for far too long.

And I was more than willing to let him.

[holylulusworld]

Big Grump

Summary: Your best friend’s friend is annoying.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: banter, language, snowed in, enemies to…?, a hint of fluff

"Barnes, stop with that grimace or your face will stay like this one day,” you tut as Bucky won’t stop making a face.

He scowls at you. It wasn’t in his plans to spend the evening with you, not his best friend Steve. Now he’s stuck with you at Steve’s cabin, in the middle of a snowstorm. Steve won’t make it to your planned getaway and Bucky, well, he’s fuming.

“My face is none of your business.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“It is when I have to spend time with you,” you bite back, a little too harshly. “What if your face stays like that and I can’t call an ambulance.” You smirk darkly.

“Even then I’ll look better than any guy you ever dated,” he smirks at you, blue eyes sparkling when you get up from your seat.

“You never met one of my dates, Barnes. Stop acting as if you are the gift to womanhood. You’re nothing but a walking STD.”

“Careful now,” he snarls. “I killed people for less. Stop disrespecting me! I won’t shelter your life.”

“If you kill me, Stevie will kill you,” you sass back. “He will avenge his best friend.” You snicker. Bucky’s features darken and he pouts. “What is it, Barnes?”

“I’m his best friend. And I got my reasons for killing you,” Bucky grunts. He shakes his head and decides to just ignore your existence. “I can only hope the snow melts fast.”

“Why? Do you have a date? Aw, do you want to spread more love, Barnes?”

Bucky gets up from the couch. If he must spend time with you at the cabin, he won’t do it sober. “Just shut up and stop being a brat.”

“Now where is the fun in that?” You follow Bucky around the cabin only to tease him some more. “Do you want to play a game?”

“How about the silent game?” Bucky opens the cabinet in the kitchen to find alcohol. “Damn it, Stevie. Where is the booze?”

He sighs. No. This can’t be. Why is there no alcohol at the cabin?

“If you play a game with me, I’ll tell you where Stevie is hiding the good stuff,” you grin at Bucky. “Come on, live a little.”

“No, thanks.” He turns to leave the kitchen. “I will find something to drink…somewhere.”

“Seriously?” You sigh deeply. “Can you not act like a decent person for once? I know that you do not like me, but we are stuck in the cabin. I will miss a date with that cute guy I met, and you are the only person around.”

“I don’t like you?” He turns around, brows furrowed. “You do not like me!”

“That’s not true!” You talk back. “I tried to give you a chance because you are Steve’s friend. All you did was talk low about me. I know I’m not a big bad mafia boss or shit, but I stand my ground every day of the week.”

“I never—” Bucky looks offended. “I never said something like that. I think it’s great, that you are not part of the business, but like Steve as if he’s a normal guy. You never treated him differently.”

“He’s my friend. I don’t care about his profession,” you shrug. “He took over his father’s business, is all. Steve is a good man who does bad things sometimes to protect what belongs to him. I know people who aren’t in his line of business and did worse things.”

“Hmmm…” Bucky nods thoughtfully. “What do you think about me?”

“You’re a jerk,” you smirk. “But you are not a bad guy.”

“If you tell me where Stevie is hiding his booze, I’ll play a game with you.”

“Alright!” You clap your hands. “But be aware, we are going to play truth or dare.”

Bucky swallows thickly as you walk back inside the living room to get the booze. He’s not sure if it’s a good idea to play truth or dare with you when he's drinking.

He could let the truth about his feelings for you slip. And this can never happen. Steve would kill him...

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[moonchild701]

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

A Thawing Heart

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Summary: A snowstorm hits and you meet someone unexpected

Pairing: Dabi/Gen Reader

Content Warning: Pre Relationship, SickFic (kinda), Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Mentions of blood, Implied Murder (off screen, not reader), SFW

Word Count: 1.6k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 9th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Stuck in a snowstorm

My Masterlist

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Harsh winds whip through the trees of the forest, the falling snow and rain thick enough to blot out your surroundings.

Multiple layers of warm clothing are rendered useless as the wet mix is mercilessly soaked into gaps in the fabric, leaching away whatever heat you had.

You just wanted to go on a nice stroll in the scenic wintry woods, but then the weather took a turn, so you're on your way back to your cabin.

Just wanting a holiday getaway from everything and everyone, you decided a little trip to your dad's old cabin in the snowy mountains of Hokkaido was the perfect place to do so.

You'd gotten there the day before, and all packed and settled in, you wanted to go exploring a bit. It was beautiful and peaceful, and the weather seemed nice enough at the time, only very lightly snowing.

That was a while ago. You'd stuck to the path precisely, and when the winds picked up, the air getting colder than it had any right being, you spun right around to head back to the cabin.

On the way back, it started snowing heavier, and then came the rain.

Eventually, you manage to break through the treeline, with the cabin in sight.

And between you and said cabin, is a dark lump on the snowy ground, slowly but surely being covered in snow.

Creeping closer, you notice it's a person,and they're bleeding, and you speed up your steps.

As you reach them, you see familiar eyes the most gorgeous shade of blue you've ever seen peering up at you, before they roll back in his head.

*****

Dabi.

You're dragging Dabi, one of the most wanted villains in the country, back to your cabin.

But really, what else are you supposed to do? He's injured right in front of you, and it's not like you can call for help.

You don't listen to the annoying voice in your head inquiring if it's just because of the faulty reception and not because you don't want him to get caught.

Because to you, he's your hero.

You doubt he'd remember you, roasting your would-be attacker to a crisp in an alley all those months ago after happening upon it. You don't like to dwell too much on what might've happened if he never stepped in, but the fact that he did, means the world to you.

So if you can help him in return, you will.

Not to mention that you've seen the video. The video of his past, of how he came to be, and you can't help but sympathize.

So you bring him into the warmth of your temporary little home to patch him up and help him however you can.

*****

Somehow, you manage to get him inside, taking off his jacket before settling him on the couch and lighting the fireplace. You quickly strip off your icy, wet clothes and change into something warmer.

Now behind closed doors, the difference is stark. Where it was once freezing, it's now just a bit chilly, with the air slowly warming up; where the air was previously occupied with howling, icy winds, it's now filled with the sound of the crackling of fire.

The room is dimly lit from the flames, casting deep shadows and patches of dancing orange light around the room, the few lightbulbs dull, not really adding any more light, but you get to work with what you have.

With the room slowly warming, you strip him out of his wet clothes, starting with his boots and pants, taking care to not jostle his wounds, and you throw a blanket over his legs. He's bleeding from his shoulder, so you have no choice but to cut him out of his shirt.

As more of his chest is exposed to the air, goosebumps appear along his skin. The fibers stick and pull at the wound, and you try to be gentle, but from the pinched expression on his face, he's beginning to wake up.

You're proven right when, just as you get the last of the fabric off, cerulean eyes just as icy as the outside world snap open, glaring at you as a heated hand grabs your wrist tightly. Or as tightly as he can in this state. He's rather pale.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dabi's voice is rough, guarded.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you should technically be afraid, but all you could focus on is that his eyes are on you.

But also, his grip is starting to get uncomfortable from the heat.

"The owner of the cabin you were bleeding out in front of." you say calmly, tugging your wrist free. "I'm trying to help you."

That gives him pause.

"Why? I could burn you to a crisp," he says, rightfully suspicious in his position, to be honest.

"Well, yeah," you admit. "But then I can't patch you up, hm?"

He looks at you skeptically, "You didn't answer me. Why are you helping me? I'm sure you know who I am."

You sigh, telegraphing your movements as you reach for the first aid kit at your side. "You helped me once. Saved me really. I'm returning the favour to my hero."

He's taken aback at your words, at your soft smile and the gentle look in your eyes as you look at him.

A myriad of emotions flash over his features, before settling on a scowl. "I'm no hero."

You can't help the snort of laughter that escapes you. "I know very well that you're not a hero, Dabi. It was a hero, a sidekick, that you saved me from." Then, gentler, "You're not a hero, you're my hero, and that's all to it."

He seems at a loss for what to say, so you move along. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?", you say, gesturing toward the wound on his shoulder. After all of the fabric was removed, pulling away whatever scabs that were forming, it started bleeding again, albeit sluggishly, and it needs patching up.

He's snaps out of it at that, nodding stiffly as he looks away.

Smiling softly, you grab the roll of gauze and get to work.

You work in a comfortable silence for a while, before your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Can I ask what happened?" You ask softly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peacefulness, but feeling the need to ask anyway.

He doesn't say anything for a while, to the point that you think he's not going to answer, before you hear him sigh heavily and mutter, "Recruitment went wrong. Guy had an ice quirk and managed to stab me with an icicle before I torched him."

He's watching you closely, watching your reaction, but you just hum, continuing to gently wrap and tape down the wound.

"You got nothin' to say about the guy I killed?" His voice is mostly taunting, but you can hear the underlying curiosity and disbelief lacing it.

"I'm sure you had your reasons, and again, I know you're a villain. Stop trying to scare me." You roll your eyes, putting away the leftover supplies.

He looks at you incredulously, but you ignore it, standing up. "Stay here, try not to jostle your shoulder. I'll be right back.", you say, not waiting to hear a reply before leaving.

He's left staring at your retreating form, perplexed and slightly concerned if he's being honest. Because that can't be it, right? That's it? He thinks he vaguely remembers you; you do seem kind of familiar, but really? Him, your hero? He knows the system is fucked, but this is a whole new level, where someone has to consider a villain their hero.

Shaking his head lightly, he's pulled out of his musings when you return, a glass of water in hand. "Here, take this. Pain meds." You hold them out to him.

He eyes it skeptically, slowly taking them from your hands and you have to sigh. "Seriously? I just used most of my supplies to patch you up and you think I'd try to poison you now?"

You understand his paranoia and caution, what with how he lives and what he does, but come on.

He rolls his eyes and shrugs, muttering, "You never know.",  and downs the pills.

Satisfied he's complying, you finish cleaning up.

And then he says something stupid.

"Well thanks, but I gotta go." He mutters, grunting as he tries to prop himself up to stand.

You hurriedly but gently push him back to lie down.

"Absolutely not, you need to rest. Besides, go where? How?" You scold, exasperated. "The storm is still going strong, so there's shitty reception, and even if that weren't the case, your phone's busted."

He scowls, grumbling but complying, lying back and letting you pull the warm blanket back over him.

"I'm gonna make some hot cocoa for us, okay? Just rest for now. Please?" He goes to retort, complain really, but the words get stuck in his throat. You're looking at him so earnestly, so concerned and tender.

He doesn't remember anyone ever really looking at him like that, not for a long time.

And it's possibly the worst time to realize that you're fucking pretty. Beautiful really, in a way that makes his scars itch with the flare of heat beneath them.

He swallows thickly, turning his head away to look at anything other than your pretty, pretty eyes staring at him.

You sigh, standing back up to go make some hot cocoa.

Something tells you that Dabi could really use it right now.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[goodlucksnez]

Glimmer of love

so this is not something i normally post but this is a collab post with @dr-ground-zero

cw: messfuckery, horny/indulgent, and angst

this is about our mha oc (zip and shu_ this is year two of their relationship

The holiday season had arrived and Zip was bursting with excitement. The apartment was a blank canvas, ready to be transformed into a festive wonderland.  He had boxes of decoration- tinsel ornament light and more-stored in the attic, waiting to be brought to life 

“Shu come on! It's time to decorate for Christmas!’ Zip called out his voice filled with enthusiasm. He is already pulling down the boxes from the attic with a bright smile on his face.

Shu emerged from the kitchen, a mug of hot cocoa in hand, looking less than thrilled. “Do we have to do this now, Zip?" he asked with a hint of reluctance in his voice. “Can't we wait a bit longer?”

Zip shook his head, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “No fucking way, Christmas is around the corner, we need to get started if we want everything to look perfect”

With a resigned sigh, Shu set his mug down and joined Zip in the living room. They opened the first box, sweeping the cobwebs out of the way. The old cardboard box opened with a plume of dust, revealing the shiny decorations inside. 

Zip rubbed his nose, already feeling the effects of the dust. Maybe it would be best to open these outside, then bring them in”

Normally shu would have agreed but since a snowstorm was currently happening outside he proposed a different solution.

“Why don’t you set up that thing,” he said pointing at the two-part tree that lay on the floor, and i will deal with the boxes”

Zip put down the wreath he was holding and quickly covered his nose with his shirt and sneezed harshly. “"Heh... heh... HHhzzSSCH’eHH!”

Shu jumped at the noise before snickering and replying with a, “Bless you, goodness that was fast. Dust is bothering you already?”

Zip stuck out his tongue at him. “Oh shut up Mr. Grinch and get to unpacking.”

Shu opened the next box, pulling out the stocking stuffers with the initials VIC and Zippy on it, feeling both bittersweet and sad he never got to make fun memories with his folks. Before setting them on the mantel. 

The next thing out of the box was an old, dusty picture frame. Shu brushed some of the dust off and looked at the frame. It was a picture of a small blue-skinned boy with two front teeth missing sitting by a fireplace holding an oversized bat onesie, assumingly on Christmas morning. Shu felt his eyes watering, and if Zip ever asked him, he would say it was the dust and not the feeling of wanting a nice family Christmas. 

Shu wiped his eyes and set the frame on the mantle, as he let go the frame backing folded in and it fell. Shu tried to catch it but it shattered on the ground behind him glass littering the floor around Shu feet. 

Within a moment Zip came running. “I heard something crash, are you okay?”

“I am fine, just a picture fell.” Zip, seeing glass around his bare feet, barked an order at him. “Don't move!!!! I will get a broom.” Shu smiled. “Love, I am not going to get hurt from broken glass, I ride a motorbike for Christ's sake.” Zip snapped back “I know and I have a heart attack every time.” 

Zip hurried off to fetch a broom. Upon his return he found Shu picking up large shards. Zip yells at him. “DO NOT PICK UP BROKEN GLASS WITH YOUR HANDS!.” His quirk started to activate the ringing of his voice echoing off the walls of the apartment. It might have been the surprise or the fact he had been looking at the family heirlooms for the last thirty minutes but the tears that threatened to spill started falling. 

Zip, not seeing the tears, pushed him out of the way and started sweeping up the glass mumbling about being irresponsible. Shu's mind started to fog, he felt his pulse in his ears. His face started to flush and he felt his breath start to quicken.  

Before Shu could stop himself he shouted out, mincking Zip's voice with his Quirk. “Well fuck off, I didn't have this, OKAY! I didn’t have nice memories with anyone. So I am sorry if you think this fucking capitalistic holiday is all that, but you know for others it is a fucking nightmare.”

Zip turned around shocked. In all the time they had been together he had only heard him shout one other time. He felt his throat tighten. Before he could find his voice Shu continued. “You might have had a warm fire and loving parents but I wasn't okay. This is hard enough,” he said gesturing to all the lights and joyfulness and taking a deep breath, I don't need to have to be WITH YOU A HAPPY-GO-LUCKY FUCKING HERO ON MY ASS!”

Zip felt his world shatter. All the joy and lights around him dulled and he was left alone in the dark. Shu stomped off, slamming the front door. The wreath which was held up by a loose nail slid down and clattered to the floor. Zip was left alone surrounded by dusty boxes, distant records playing in the background, and a hole in his heart.

—----

When Shu’s senses came too, the first thing he noticed was he was shaking and he was cold. He didn't know how long he was walking. It felt like hours but looking at his 12 battery percentage left phone it had only been 40 minutes. He looked behind as the blistering wind swept over the snow covering his footprints. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself. His mind was fuzzy with the event that led to this but as he sat on a bench near a streetlamp, the memories started coming back to him.

The picture frame, the dusty ornaments, the nicknames on the stocking stuffers. The tears sprang back to his eyes and he wiped his eyes. Why was this getting to him now, they had been together for Christmas before, this was the second Christmas. The first one Zip took him to a light show and Shu had gotten sick. Now a year later their relationship had only grown stronger. Why were these feelings building up now? What has changed? Zip was still playing basketball and in a great position in his rescue work. Shu had been working hard and actually getting noticed by the mafia. So why now? He racked his brain before a sudden strong wind came and he shivered. 

He smiled as a memory came to the surface. “You need to wear a coat in the wintertime or you'll catch your death.” the memory of Zip's sultry voice filled his head. And suddenly like he had been hit by lightning he knew what was different. It was love. He loved Zip. He was in love with Zip Kōmori.

He jumped up and screamed to the quiet and snow-covered world around him. “I LOVE ZIP KŌMORI!!” 

His legs started running before he knew he was going to. His feet sank into the freshly fallen snow but he continued to run. The cold air wiped at his face and stung his nose and lungs but he kept pushing forward. He could see the lights of the apartment complex getting nearer. His love was so close. As he reached the stairs leading up the yellow interior he stopped, his breath coming in short rapid breaths, his skin burning from the snow and ice hitting him. 

That last thing Shu said was evil and cruel, how was he going to explain he realized he was in love with him? He knew he sounded crazy. Luckily he didn’t have to decide the door opened and zip arms flung around him pulling him down on the snowy steps.

“Do not ever do that again, you can't just leave and not tell me where you are going! My heart can’t take it. Please don't leave me. I look down at the Christmas lights and everything. I am sorry, I thought everyone liked it. But I was wrong, just please don't leave me.” Zip chokes up on the last words and holds Shu tight in the falling snow. 

Shu, too shocked to speak, slowly rises and leads them inside. Zip stays attached to Shu until Shu pinches forward with a wet sound sneeze.

“Et-chiew! Et-knk! Kgnnk!”

“Oh shit you're soaking wet you need to dry off, you don't need another cold on Christmas like last year!” Zip rushes around the corner almost colliding with the stairs and comes back with a new thick blanket he had never seen before. “I was saving this for Christmas but you need it now” 

He wraps Shu in the thick fuzzy blanket almost too tightly and steps back like he is afraid a bomb is going to go off. “All wrapped up, um I hope you like it.”

Shu couldn’t help but laugh, a deep hearty laugh that seemed to shake the cold from his bones. He looked up to see Zip looking both scared, confused and worried and it was enough to jumpstart his heart.

“Zip, darling. Do you want to know what I thought about while I was out there? Nothing but you. How much i…no our lives have been better since that cold rainy night! While we might not be perfect for each other and we know how to tick off each other, there is one thing we have in common, well at least I hope we do?”

Zip swallowed hard before speaking. “Oh yeah, what is that?”

“We both….love each other!” Shu smiles and blushes and just waits.

Zip stands there for a moment, the words echoing in his mind..loves me…he loves me…WAIT HE LOVES ME!

Before Zip can process what he is doing he runs and tackles and hugs Shu on the sofa, almost knocking the whole couch over in the process. He holds him so tight, that he is afraid he might be hurting him. 

He frantically yelps out “I love you too Shugo! My whole heart is yours forever and always!”

Shu hugs him back until his nose starts itching and he tries to warn Zip with little success. “Zip ... .move gonna snee-EEEH! Et’chiew! Et’chiew! Ed’sshiiew! Ed’shiiiew”

Zip not letting go and knowing based on past times asked softly. “Bless you kitten! Are you done?” 

Shu shakes his head in agreement before quickly ducking his face into the blanket. “Et-chiew! Heh! Hehe Chiew!”

“Goodness, that was big! Bless you, take a breath.”

Shu rubs his nose on the blanket before cuddling in Zip’s chest. Shu could hear his heart beating fast and smiled before replying with a smirk. 

“Aw did I excite you little Batsy”

Zip blushed every shade of red imaginable before hiding his face. “Oh shush Rudolph, you have no place to talk!” Shu let out a soft laugh before snuggling back into Zip’s chest, rubbing his nose against him a little. “I’mb-I’mb sorry about earlier ... .for yelling, and for what I-Ihh I! Oh fugk” He gasped before ducking into Zip’s chest. Zip holds him both as a way of support and a way of comfort, by the looks of his redding nose and the fact he had just been outside in the snow for minutes without a coat on, he would have a talk about that with him later, he knew he was catching a cold. 

He hoped as Shu hitched into his chest this was not going to become an annual thing. “Et’chiew! Et’shiiew! Ht’chiiew! Hdd’sshhhmmmph!” If Zip could blush any harder feeling his lover’s wet sneezes dampening his shirt, he would be red enough to stop traffic.  All he could do was loosely wrap his arms around him and give soft blessings to you as he sneezed. He could still feel each sneeze making Shu’s chilled body bend and shudder against his larger frame. “Bless you kitten, come on deep breaths, don’t want you passing out on me.” He said with a soft chuckle and back rubs. Shu sniffled thickly and let out a heavy groan. “Thagks, also sorry” Zip cupped Shu’s face in his hands and guided him up, to give his forehead a kiss. “It's alright, I’m not angry ... .I may not fully understand but I get it.” He said in a low voice, things got quiet for a moment before Shu leaned into him. “I guess, seeing all those pictures it-It felt conflicting, I’m jealous ... .and that’s not your fault. I’d never wish for anything bad, nor would I want you to know a shred of what I’ve experienced but-” Zip hugged him firmly as Shu spoke. “I wish you never experienced that stuff at all” Zip spoke, he knew pieces and parts of what Shu had gone through growing up. Especially when it came to holidays, even if he didn’t know the full story he knew it wasn’t an easy life. It broke his heart multiple times when hearing Shu recount his younger years. “I just want to give you the Christmas you never got….If you’ll let me”

Shu tried to respond but his nose had other plans still, he tried to speak through the incoming fit. 

“I.. want that, i do but…oh fuck mbe-Et’chiiew! Et’chiew! Et’mph! Et’mph! Et’chiew!....HHh.ugh

He sneezed wetly spraying the air between them before Zip led his head to his chest. “Come on kitten let them out. I know it is so itchy!”

“Ibm tryign…its stuck.” He said his face pressed to Zip’s chest. Zip could feel Shu’s chest rising and falling erratically. “Oh no this is gonna be a lot.” “I know baby let it out you won’t feel better till you do, come on let me help, look at me.”

Shu looked up with watery eyes and Zip's heart almost melted. His scrunched up, his nose was reddening at a fast pace. Shu’s hands were fumbling to rub at his nose, which was proving to be an unhelpful method. Zip reached out and slowly rubbed at his septum. “Aw, you are so cute when you are sneezy.”

“eEcchiew!Etcchiiew! 'Et'chiiew! Eeetsshiiew!....ugh i'mb fide…Imb don- godda get it o-ode dehh heh HETCHIEW!” 

“Goodness, that sounded like one of mine! Is your nose okay?”

He goes to respond but his nose is twitching. Mess is dripping onto the new blanket and Zip rolls up his sleeve and wipes at his running nose.

“hehh oh guuh god hehh heh!...Zip..please…big”

“Okay okay baby, I know let it out, I can wash a hoodie later, I don't mind.”

“Hh— hhAH— A’DSHU’H!...hH’KSHU’H!...Ugh fuck….HUtchiew! HUTCHIEW! huTCHIEW! HT'CHIEW.” Zip could feel the spray through his sleeve and shivered before tending to the other dripping nose. The poor thing looked beat up. His eyes were watery with a few tears staining his cheeks and his nose…it had seen better days.

The poor thing was angry and twitchy, it was a bright irritated red. Clearly needing gentleness compared to the harsh rubbing and scrubbing Shu had been doing that pissed it off in the first place.

Zip went off looking for something to help, and came back with an old hoodie he knew Shu favored. He had used this before during a previous sick day to wipe at his inflamed nose, thinking Zip did not see it…but he did.

Zip unwrapped the blanket from Shu’s shoulders, noticing the chill it brought to him. He positioned Shu on the corner of the couch so his back was against the armrest and straddled his lap. 

If Shu could speak would have certainly said something but before he could, the soft fabric was being pressed to his face. The contrast between the rough skin of his nose and the soft fabric was a delight, and Shu sighed in relief. The sentiment was short-lived because Zip started to rub his nose counterclockwise and it ignited the dormant but persistent tickle. He barely had a second before his breath seized and was bending into the waiting hoodie.

“hhah-TSSSSH’oo!…hhehh’IYSSCh’hh! — hhh! hheh’ITTSCH’ue! hh’TSSSch’—chh!—cchh’ Zip mbe careful…ibm gonna-hh… hih! …hih—! Hhhh-! Heh’GXHktshh’hu!!!”

“I know baby that is the point, you are gonna sneeze, you have a messy cold. I am helping. Come on, your nose is so full. I know it itches.”

Shu blushed every shade of red. “Baby you’re killing mbe here, I..hih..oh no, shit messy….Hhah-hHAESSHhuu!…huh…hHH!-hHN’GXT!hht’sch!-iht’sch-tssh-hkshh!!!”

Zip could feel the hoodie get drenched with spray from Shu, and from the way the other was snuffling, he knew he needed to blow. He turned the hoodie over and helped it over his nose, “Go on kitten blow for me.”

Shu did as he was told. The sound was wet but seemed to bring the edgy man's nose some relief at last and he slumped into Zip exhausted.

“There you go, your nose all better now?”

“Yeah, imb dbone on god i sound awful”

Zip blushes and kisses his forehead “No, you sound so cute and adorable all stuffed up.” Shu blushed and whined at his compliments. He relaxed against him with a sigh, keeping Zip's arms around him. “Bmerry Christmas, Zip” “You too, kitten~ I love you” “I love you too”

[moonspirit]

Moon, hello-hello 💚🌿

Hope you're doing well, and sending you some (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～❄️❄️ for the Christmas mood~

So, about the Christmas mood... What are your thoughts on Ambassadors Christmas "party" (in quotes because I don't think they would do as "party-party", you know, but I have no idea how to make it otherwise...) ?

What do you think they would gift each other, how would they spend their time? Knowing this chaotic team, some hilarious stuff would totally happen :D

Anyway, I hope you'll have fun with this, and have wonderful *timezone*, Moon (⁠っ⁠˘⁠з🌖 ⁠)

Hello Anna chan :3 Thank you so much for asking me this because HAHAA I had a complete laughter fit thinking of how fucking WRONG the Ambassador's first Christmas is going to go xD

For starters I'm just going to assume the Paradis boys are new to the concept of Christmas and that they celebrated something different back in Paradis during the winter. So, Santa Claus? Never heard of him but omg, seems like a great guy! How do we sign up for presents?!!!!

(Pieck tells them they have to become members of the Elven Association first and sends them on a wild-goose chase around town to find the Elven Lord for the sole benefit of her entertainment)

Reiner meanwhile, makes the mistake of taking up the role of Local Santa Claus for the kids in the neighbourhoods, and honestly? fair? The dude is LORGE and can do a great HO HO HO. Giving him a pillow-belly and an itchy beard turns out to be the best idea the local government has ever come up with in its 300 year history of failure.

However... it is a mistake. Dude is LORGE, remember? His first delivery and he gets stuck in a chimney.

In the middle of the Christmas market, Annie, hoping to be left alone in undisturbed peace and a chance to try out the sweets in the stalls, accidentally ends up following a cat to an abandoned street where a group of very misunderstood angry kids lurk in conspiratorial conversation, and sensing a sort of sisterhood in her similarly arranged resting bitch face, they convince her into dressing up as Krampus.

Basically this thing, the opposite of Santa Claus. For funsies and to kidnap children.

They have high hopes that Anniepus will be able to terrorize the town on their behalf because Christmas is for the happy and weak.

Unfortunately... Anniepus ends up being a very small Krampus and nobody's frightened of her as she skulks around town searching to put children in her bucket. Not like she really cares tho. She just wants those goddamn sweets 🥲

Update (very late into the night): Reiner is still stuck in the chimney and his itchy beard is starting to give him a rash. Not that anyone can see tho, the chimney is dark!

Update (from somewhere very far away, on a snowy cliff overlooking a big chasm, great snowstorm blowing): three boys, dressed in worn out clothes, holding staffs, squint wistfully into the swirling wind. "Is that him? The Elven Lord's abode?"

(it's a bush)

Update (sometime later and somewhere else): Anniepus is stealing collecting cats from children and putting them in her bucket.

Update (even later into the night): Reiner's sleigh driver is getting tired of waiting for his Santa and incurring heavy parking fees.

Update (from the next continent): Three boys, scruffy and homeless, chase after an ostrich. "Elven Lord, please let us join your association!"

Update: Anniepus starts a cat cafe.

Update: The local government deploys a crane to get Reiner out of the chimney. It is a failure. The crane cannot lift Santa's booba.

Update: The boys are in the South pole. They come across penguins and believe they've arrived at the Elf Factory!

Update: Pieck gets bored of everything and opens a sexy santa-girl strip club <3

[ae-azile]

Progression, Chapter 22 Sneak Peek:

Between the two of them, Kim tends to sleep later than Chay. His body is hard-wired to stay up late, and on top of that, he tends to sleep lightly. The latter is something that has changed a little in the last two months. Sleeping with Chay is just better. Even when they had slept on the couch in Chay’s house - prior to everything falling apart - he slept better than he usually had. Now that they're together and Kim isn't waiting for Chay to find out everything and leave, he almost always sleeps through the night. 

So that's the only explanation for not hearing his phone ping the next morning. He sleeps right through it until Chay is gently shaking him awake. 

“We missed a few texts. I have been talking with Macau for a bit, but you should catch up and read them.”

Kim lets his eyes open as he sits up and grabs his phone from the nightstand. Even as he opens the texts from Macau and Porsche to read them, he can't quite comprehend what it means. 

Macau: Hey, why is my brother talking to Kinn on the phone?

Macau: I'm not hiding in some safe house to wait out another attack. The cell service was so shitty and the WiFi was non-existent. I was kept out of the loop until Porsche and Khun came to get me. Pissed me the fuck off at the time, but I went with them because I needed out of there, even if it meant death. 

Macau: That sounds like I didn't care about my brother. I did. They downplayed his condition until we got to the hospital. I didn't care about the shitty service after that, but it was horrible while it was a main priority and I didn’t know any better. 

Macau: He's now off the phone, barely talking, and cuddling with Paris, Valencia, and Pittsburgh.

Chay: Who are Valencia and Pittsburgh?

Macau: Hia’s and P’Pete’s cats, duh. 🙄 Took you long enough to answer. 

Chay: Who names a cat Pittsburgh? Who names anything Pittsburgh? 

Macau: When Hia and P’Pete got them, they agreed to each name one. Hia named the girl Valencia because it is a city that has the same starting English letter as his name. So P’Pete picked Pittsburgh for the boy because it matched the starting letter of his own name. They also got stuck there during a layover last year due to a huge snowstorm and it was the first time P’Pete ever experienced snow. I guess they even extended their time there a couple of days to enjoy it. Pittsburgh now has a special place in P'Pete's and Hia's heart. Anyway, the cat is white. Pittsburgh. 

Chay: I guess that makes sense? Also, why did you never say anything about being an uncle now? Kim and I would have sent you a present or something. Hia showed me a picture of Paris. She's really cute. 

Macau: I’ve been an uncle. Valencia and Pittsburgh have been here for a while now and are a lot quieter. Paris doesn't scratch at the furniture though, so that's nice. I think that's why she's Hia’s new favorite. 

Chay: That's definitely it. Let me know if anything else happens. 

Macau: wtf he and Kinn are on the phone again. What is going on???

Kim: 🤷🏻

As soon as Kim sends that emoji to Macau since he doesn't actually know, he moves over to the text group Porsche started with the two of them. 

Porsche: Kinn and Vegas talked on the phone for over an hour last night. I guess it went well. Kinn was emotional when I got back to the suite, but he said it went better than he expected it to go. 

Porsche: And they're on the phone again. Idk who called who.

Porsche: They're fighting over some game they played when they were kids and are choosing to be pissed off about that over literally anything else?

Porsche: Vegas hung up on him 😕

Porsche: Nevermind, he answered when Kinn called him back. 

Porsche: I don't know what is going on. Kinn is laughing about something. It's exhausting to keep up with. I am about to go hang out with Arm and Khun because they cause me less stress.

Chay: You can't. This is more important and interesting.

Porsche: Important, maybe. It isn't interesting when I can only hear one side of the conversation. You know two people who are interesting? Arm and Khun. 

Porsche: Also? Took you long enough to answer. 

Kim: 🤷🏻

“Is that all you have to contribute to both conversations?” Chay asks as Kim cuddles back into him, “You just found out your brother is on his second phone call with Vegas and that's the only thing you can say?” 

“It's their third conversation,” Kim mumbles, wrapping himself around Chay, “Vegas hung up on him the second time. See? I care. I paid attention to what I read.” 

“Kim,” Chay says, “This could be huge for your family. You may have some sort of reconciliation and be friends with your cousins again after years of animosity.”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up, but that sounds nice.” Kim says, but it is apparently not enough. 

“Kim. Call your brother. See how he's doing.” 

Kim glances up at Chay, “It sounds like he is probably on the phone.” 

Chay points at Kim's phone and keeps staring at him, “Try. If he doesn't pick up, ask him to get a hold of you later.” 

“Or I can just call him later,” Kim counters, “Or talk to him when I get home.” 

Chay lets out a huff, “I'm nosy, P’Kim! I want to know what's going on now! I'm invested, just like Hia is invested in us, as well as Arm and Khun-” 

“Pretty sure ArmKhun is his top ship now,” Kim says with a shrug, “And there is no romance between Kinn and Vegas, so it isn't really comparable-” 

“Maybe I get more invested in toxic family dynamics than I am in romantic couples!” Chay says, then literally rolls over Kim to grab the phone before handing it to him, “Call him. Now.” 

[faydingrain]

Ayan Khan

“That’s…” The circle was stunned into silence.

“And that’s how I escaped the clutches of the weird man at the counter of the acid-store!”

“Isn’t that your gamer handle?” Ginger asked.

“Yup!”

“That just sounds like,” Clarissa said, wading through that nonsense in a search for the right words, “like you exaggerated a trip to the café or something.”

“The café of doooooom~”

Alfie scoffed. “That wasn’t even a ghost story.”

“Yours wasn’t either.” She stuck her tongue out.

He stammered in protest.

With his eyes closed, Cedric gave a small smile. “It is accepted.”

“Woohoo!” She waved a hand, smacking her flame into oblivion. “Ayan’s turn!”

“...Right.”

***

This is a story from when I was little.

It was only a year or so after my family immigrated here. There's a long street at the edge of downtown that I walked to get home from school, which had a dark alleyway intersecting it. My parents had warned me of the potential dangers that could lurk there, but none of them ever really surfaced, or I was being safe enough to never find them, so it wasn't a big deal.

Then, one day, a strange man I'd never seen before was standing behind the closest streetlight with his arm outstretched. He had a scraggly beard around his wide grin, dry, unclean skin, and one eye tighter than the other. In his hand was a spherical object in pink wrapping. “Would you like some candy?”

I happened to be with a friend that day. He didn’t move when we passed by, only following us with his eyes, like a sentient statue.

“There’s only one! Rock paper scissors?” My friend recommended.

“..What?” I asked, unsure if we should simply walk away, but not wanting to just ignore a man trying to be nice.

“Oh, there’s two of you,” he said. His fingers balled around the piece of candy. A few seconds later, he reopened them to reveal two pieces—one for each of us.

We were amazed. This man just magically made candy appear in pristine pink wrappers with cute little polka dots! How can someone capable of such a wonderful feat be a bad person?

Right as we went to grab them, an Aunty nearby smacked our hands away. “What are you doing?!” She screamed. “School is over! Go home!!”

Aunty didn’t acknowledge the man, and we were scared we did something wrong, so we ended up running back home.

The next day, the man was still there. “Would you like some candy?” The same two pieces rested in his palm, undisturbed.

I apologized to him, and we put our heads down and kept walking.

The next day, the man was there again, the same as the day before.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Even after a sudden snowstorm had hit, he remained in the same spot with icicles dripping from his nose. “Would you like some candy?”

Perhaps my friend pitied him, and wanted him to go seek shelter from the cold, but she ran up and swiped the candy from the man’s hand.

I told her that that was bad, and we were going to get in trouble, but she told me: “That woman isn’t here, so it’s no big deal!”

She offered me one of the two pieces, but I was scared of the consequences, so I declined.

When I arrived at school the next day, my friend hadn’t shown up. She never arrived the rest of the day either. I figured she got sick as karma for going against Aunty’s will, so I simply walked home alone.

The man was gone.

My friend was gone for the next several days. ‘That must have been a really bad deed for her to fall so ill,’ I thought at the time.

But the day after, as I was walking down that same road, there was a poster in the place where the man once stood. It was a missing poster, with my friend’s face plastered in the center.

I’m not sure I fully grasped the situation at the time, or maybe I was just too young to properly put the pieces together, but I remember wondering how that had happened when she had been home sick the whole time.

I started seeing policemen searching the area, but alongside that, more missing posters appeared on the wall of other children in the city. Some I even recognized from the hallways of my school.

Papers upon papers filled up the wall of that long road until one day, every single one disappeared. The wall was blank, no policemen patrolled that road any longer, and that strange man was never spotted again.

A week later, I woke up at the sound of a knock on my window. It was just like how my friend did it when she would sneak out so we could play together, so I knew for sure that she was okay and came to tell me about how she pulled the biggest mean prank on the adults in the area.

But when I turned around and opened the window, I was suddenly ripped outside, and the sugary spheres in those pristine pink wrappers were forced into my mouth.

“Would you like some candy?”

Scaretober 2023

Brisk Wind on a Dark Trail

Midnight Moon

Gargoyle's Watch

Cold Stones in the Fog

Spirits Rising

Haunted House

Witching Hour

Bubbling Cauldron

Candy

Eyes

Spider Silk

Feathers

Tail

Scales

Fangs or Talons

An Offering of Blood

Dark Ritual

Spook Scary Skeletons

Carnivàle Morte

Still-Beating Heart

Sharpened Blade

Mask

Looming Shadows

The Devil's Hand

Monster

Reflection in the Mirror

Rusted Chains

Stitches

Precious Jewels

Incantation

Halloween

Epilogue

[theemporium]

[1k] weather warnings, snowstorms and spending christmas locked up with your two boys. 

. 

“You have got to be shittin’ me.”

“You’re dad-posing again, Harrington.” 

You couldn’t help but let a snort escape your lips, leaning further into the couch as you gently knocked your foot against Eddie’s thigh, a hopeless action in chastising him. 

“The weather is shit,” Steve said as he stood by the window, focused on glaring at the blizzard buzzing outside instead of the snickering two behind him. “The driveway is gonna be a pain tomorrow.”

“Oh he’s keeping the dad role going,” Eddie murmured. 

“Of course he is,” you murmured back when you noticed Steve finally turned around. 

“That’s gotta be an amber warning,” Steve stated with a shake of his head. “Gotta be.” 

“It’s gotta be,” you repeated with a heavy sigh. “It’s just a lil’ bit of snow, Steve, it’ll be fine.” 

It was, in fact, not a little bit of snow. And it was not fine either. 

For both of your boyfriends, the holiday season was never one pack full of family time and busy houses. It broke your heart really, coming from such a big and lively family yourself, you were used to the month of December being happily chaotic (even if most people in your family only cared about the food and the gift giving). But neither Steve nor Eddie had ever experienced something like it, not really. 

And whilst the unconventional nature of your relationship was still odd and bizarre to most people in the shitty small town you lived in, you were grateful that your family had come from a more understanding place—a place they just wanted to see you happy and taken care of. 

So really, there was no doubt or even a moment of hesitance when you invited them both to spend Christmas with you and your family. With Wayne working the overnight shift meaning he would be sleeping all day anyways and Steve’s parents probably deep in the continent of Europe, it seemed like the simplest solution to spend the day with all the people you loved under one roof. 

It was Christmas Eve when you made your way to Steve’s house. 

The boy was a mess, convinced they were overstepping their boundaries and that your parents would hate them both for this (to which you scoffed and reminded him your family already had their stockings ready by the mantelpiece). Then he started spiralling about what to take in his overnight bag (not that it mattered considering the boys had a drawer in your room with most of the stuff they would need anyways). And then, after a few beers, you had finally calmed him down so the three of you could spend a few silent moments together before you returned to the chaos of your overbearing household. 

However, that never quite happened.

It was actually a red weather warning that was instated across Indiana as the blizzard hit far worse than anyone had expected. The snow was packing thick and it was only going to get heavier, the ice was dangerous and invisible to the eye and the temperatures just kept dropping. And there was no way the three of you were getting back to your house across town in this state, not even in Eddie’s van. 

You were snowed in with your boyfriends. 

“I–” 

“So help me god, Harrington, if you say I told you so—”

“But I did tell you so!” Steve huffed out as he slumped onto the couch, nudging you until you shuffled closer to Eddie and gave the boy space to settle on the other side of you. “We’re gonna miss Christmas with your folks now.” He paused for a moment before looking at you with an apologetic smile. “‘m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t be,” you said as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “It’s fine, we can spend it with them when the snow clears up. Just be glad we got stuck in your house instead of the trailer.” 

Eddie snorted beside you. “Ouch, doll, hit me where it hurts.” 

Your eyes gleamed. “I’ll kiss it better.” 

Eddie’s grin only widened in response but he leaned around the back of the couch to jokingly tousle Steve’s hair. “Harrington here is just pissy Santa will forget to bring him his Farah Fawcett spray if he’s in the wrong house for Christmas.”

“Talk as much shit as you like, Munson, but you know you love this hair,” Steve snapped back and Eddie could only shrug in response. 

“Second best feature about you, baby,” he grinned back, enjoying the way the blush spread over his cheeks and ears. 

“You two are gonna be a handful to deal with,” you muttered, mostly to yourself but the comment was picked up by the other two boys. 

“You never had anything against a handful before,” Eddie teased, lightly poking at your ribs because he liked the way you squirmed. 

“Or a mouthful,” Steve added which only caused the other boy to break out into laughter. 

“Ha ha, hilarious, the two of you,” you deadpanned, feeling your own cheeks burn. 

“Want us to rejog your memory?” Eddie asked as he cosied up closer to you, his thigh pressed against your own and his fingers dancing along the back of your neck, teasing and tempting but not touching you yet. 

“I mean, we do have time to kill,” Steve spoke up, his eyes fixated on his own hand as he gave your knee a soft squeeze before his hand started to be upwards. “Trapped in this big house…all alone…no one else coming to get us…gives a guy ideas, ya know?” 

“Do you have any ideas, doll?” Eddie’s words were whispered against your ear, warm breath tickling your skin. His head tucked down a little, teeth lightly nibbling at your lobe before he dipped down to press a kiss just below your ear—just where he knew you’d let out a gasp. 

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve murmured as his fingers nimbly undid the button of your jeans. “Think we’ve been good enough to open our Christmas present early this year? We promise we’ll share.” 

“We’ll take real good care of her,” Eddie added as he lightly pushed the edge of your sweater off one of your shoulders, his lips already exploring the new skin.

“You two are bad influences,” you breathed out as your head fell against the back of the couch, two pairs of hands working to quickly discard your clothes. 

You could feel their smiles against your skin. 

“Merry Christmas, boys, show me how nice you can be.”

.

[grotesquevi]

cw  # this story continues what happened in the arsonist, settled in a medieval au, feel free to read it before as you might be confused if not. 18+ mdni as it contains smut at some point, homophobia, internalized misogyny, sevika cameos.

this is just a teaser from the entire fic that will come out in a few days, also not proof-read so any mistakes? let them be — wc: 1.8k // find the entire fic here!

vi dreams of coming back to winter.

craves the silence of a snowstorm even when it only causes disaster to the realm, finds herself unable to close her eyes again without recurring to the same thought: are you even affected by her like she is? do you spend countless nights under the poor illuminations of a candle slowly consuming over your nightstand? staring at the ceiling and not moving a muscle like she does — do you wish she was closer to you like she wished upon your company every night?

even when the time passes, she yearns for coming back to a weather she hates if it means you’d be there in the cabin again, trying to warm up in her arms, too loyal to her beliefs to ever fall again in your traps. it's not possible but she's distracted sometimes during the day when you're walking past her and your perfume stays in the air even when you're long gone, how you carried yourself with grace despite having to endure your mother's slowly rotting away in a gigantic bed.

"what we did," vi remembers her own words like a spell from the witch in the woods, haunts her like a childhood nightmare "it cannot happen again, my lady."

a royal is destined to a bright future, a huge impact in life meanwhile vi's stuck being a nobody, ready to die for the crown, for you. the metal on her waist yanks heavy on her belly cause she swore years ago about giving her life for the well-being of your family, die for a greater motive, something good.

"if that's your choice violet," it saddens her somehow. the fact you don't seem bothered at her words, even when vi's hearts already pounding in her chest like a horse running to meet death in war. "i'll still ask about having you in my personal guard. i think your skills are helpful in a higher rank."

"as you wish, my princess."

she doesn't want no special treatment — fuck that, vi needs to earn it. however she's bound when you're looking at her like that. bound to protect you, to serve and be nothing but a weapon in your ruling hand when swearing upon her honor, bended knee in front of your mother last rational moments. you could have her heart if it's a demand for the greater good. it's what every knight would offer, what she needs to do.

so violet's following you around in a silver armor from months now, impeccable, clean white cape on her back. your knights now on council meetings, outside your room day and night, in the hallways and it's driving her to an insanity she cannot comprehend: since the very moment you fell asleep in her arms, since you melted in her touch she cannot stay close for more than a minute. impossible to share a room when no one's around cause she gets distracted, and her work relies on keeping you alive, on answering for your well-being: can’t afford any distraction.

in her entire life, she has never felt so useless, so inebriate to someone's charm — a knight its not supposed to burn for the love of it's princess, held such feelings that went beyond her duty to serve, but she's trapped there in whatever you are, whatever you showed her outside the castle. makes sense you’d set her soul ablaze. the forever unworthy dog that's waiting outside your door despite all efforts of pushing you away, of standing still and ready for combat even when she flinches when some old man of the council has the nerve to raise his voice ever so slightly at your new ideas.

violet vanderson has now become a burden, a burden with a good name, a good place in the court and a secured future, a known knight that's attracting a lot of attention even when she would rather be showing a fist of iron to the injustice in the realm. something in her new position more than just your personal guard.

hope is a dangerous thing for somebody who has nothing, and to vi it's hard to keep her desires in check as you continued with your life holding no physical ache for her touch, not at plain sight at least cause you're so collected, so aware of yourself, of the power you carry now on your shoulders and haunts you night and day.

hope is a dangerous thing.

"i don't think my marriage is something we absolutely need right now," in the wall close to your seat vi's brows furrow in question when you're suggested by half of the council the need to join forces with noxus in an arranged marriage, already plotting for decent suitors without you knowing — "my mother's dying, and i'm going to ascend to the throne before i'm thinking about any political alliance."

"a marriage would benefit the people," at the lack of the presence of the queen you're responsible for the realm's destiny and its future, holding the weight of ruling a nation in your bare hands. "they’re cultivating fear already upon the uncertainty of the queen's destiny, afraid war's coming. we don't have the resources to protect the citizens from hunger, nor the pains of a war."

"noxus has been our declared enemy from years now," you reply, making vi’s gaze falter for a moment cause she can smell it in the air still: you’re annoyed — "any alliance with them is nothing but a lie. and i won't feed the people outside this castle with nothing but honesty. we'll make arrangements with piltover if necessary, i know the queen and they owe it to us."

"you're taking a rushed decision my princess," the title is a reminder of your level, how you're not yet a queen, a regent royal who's in control of the final decisions. makes your body stiffens and vi, even from she is, can see the tension in your muscles, the invisible threads that came out of your back and connected you to the ceiling, kept you up like a real-life-puppet. "we cannot reject their proposal this quickly, you cannot be so blind to not see the future of our nation. your mother would wish upon your marriage as soon as possible too, this- it could lead to a new war."

"despite joining forces with piltover, i'm afraid it won't be enough," another man adds, agreeing to the proposed idea, "the noxian forces hold great power, and compared to our tropes, i'm afraid we don't have the necessary."

"that's enough," much like your family, the tone you use travels across the room like a wild fox chasing its food. makes vi shiver under her armor, looking away cause she's afraid her eyes were already digging holes in back of your skull, too frightened to think about what you'd think if finding out how her chest twists at the thought of you marrying a man — "until my mother get out of bed i wont be doing no courtship. the nation of noxus is not at war with us still, and i'm intending to keep it that way gentlemen. the meeting is over."

you don't have to say anything. vi works in sync with you now, been getting used to you since the night after the cabin, knows what you're up to like your shadow. turned into your guardian as she walks beside you when you storm away from the room and it's so nice, so nice to see you mad. wrong probably on so many levels, but the thought crosses her mind a time or two when she's following you close by, far still, at a fast pace when you cross the hallway infuriated.

"marriage," you spat to the air offended, and the knight's sure you're not talking to her cause you never do. barely look her way after the night you shared with her like it embarrasses you enough to act as if it never happened "can you even believe that, knight? my mother is dying and all they care about is if i'm marrying a noxian."

it must be the sixth or seventh time you're looking back at her after months, and vi's lungs seem to fill with a different kind of oxygen when your eyes travel through her face and you're aware of the details of it, the scar on her upper lip, the tattoo on her cheek. it lingers on her for seconds, seconds the knight uses like a plant uses the sun to survive, makes her forget what she's gonna say for a second.

"you don't have to marry anyone if you don't want to" her voice is rougher than before but wishes to ignore the real motive behind it: how can a simple act from you already have her spiraling to the gates of hell? how are you so fast to speak like a friend? — "it's a decision you can only make, my princess. the council's job is to follow your rules and do nothing but advice. you don't have to follow their suggestions if they aren't fitting."

you seem stuck in the wording, on how her mouth moves to say it: my princess. she'd said it before, but it has never affected you the way vi's able to see from where she's standing, so clearly as the sun shining on a summer day.

she asked for this. haunts her when vi's the one that pushed you away in the first place, the one that's so sure of your negative opinions on her, how you should hate her since she's the reason you're back and far away from your desired freedom moons ago. you're a spine on the palm of the hand, and itch she cannot scratch not at bare fingers, not so easy anyway.

you have a royal duty. violet owns you her entire life. the money her family was now enjoying and the good position she was granted with? it was thanks to you. in her chest still rests the medal she got for taking you back to where you belonged, hanging right against her heart as a constant reminder of her victory, of how she earned a trust she wished to keep like the greatest treasure she owned.

"you're right," it's a warm feeling the one that spreads in her chest at your response. "i don't have to marry nobody, i will be the regent queen."

"you will, my princess," she continues still, arm's-length distance, almost refusing to look at you like she wanted to — "the kingdom does not follow the council's words but your own."

and vi have to repeat it to herself once again when the sun hits your face for a moment and your complex green gown gives her enough access to look at your cleavage, squished tits under a corset that only strangled you: she asked for this.

"what we did. it cannot happen again, my lady."

everyday it's the same from now on, sometimes a knight can be blatantly stupid, she knows all about it.

[mymarifae]

can we talk about something.

because. okay, look. the way that i’ve come to understand dess’s disappearance is:

she went into the bunker.

inside the bunker is another dark world. the “original” dark world, so to speak.

i believe she discovered the dark world on her own, after fiddling with and eventually breaking the lock on the bunker doors over the course of several days. she was just curious about what was inside. excited, she tried to bring asriel, noelle, and kris along to show them the amazing world inside the bunker. due to circumstances i’m about to get to, only kris and possibly noelle made it in with her.

something went wrong, and only kris (and noelle, if she was there, and for the rest of this post i’m going to just roll with the idea that she was) made it out. noelle ended up repressing most of the incident, while kris retained enough of it to try to tell people about the world inside the bunker. no one believed them, but the place just... feels a bit haunted now. it was already creepy enough before it became associated with dess’s disappearance. i’m more or less certain that if snowy hadn’t interrupted them, monster kid would have said, “what if there’s really another world in there?”

side note: i think there’s a good chance that kris, until recent events, was starting to believe the world in the bunker was just a dream, too. but now they know it really was real. now they might know where dess is. (double side note: i don’t think kris is the knight who opened the fountains in the supply closet and the abandoned classroom. that was someone else. who? idk. they might have been the one who opened the fountain in the library, though.)

the night of the bunker misadventure just so happened to be the night of one of the worst blizzards hometown has ever seen.

the snow started coming down about halfway to the bunker. dess reassured everyone that they would be fine and could wait it out there; they just needed to hurry; she seemed so confident and so sure, that everyone chose to trust her judgement. unfortunately, the storm got worse very quickly. it became hard to see, and for little kris and noelle, it was hard to keep up in the wind. the group began to separate. kris and noelle ended up at the bunker with dess, while asriel got turned around and started walking back towards town, where he ran into the frantic search party comprised of all their parents, undyne, and some other adults.

i’m pretty insistent on dess’s disappearance coinciding with a snowstorm but not really having anything to do with it because, for one, it offers an explanation for noelle’s seemingly trauma-related response to the cold (that one customer in the store saying she sometimes just stands with the freezer door open, staring inside). and if there was a snowstorm the same night she vanished, then—well, it’s easy to declare the cause for her disappearance, isn’t it? it’s strange that a body was never found, but if monsters in deltarune turn to dust after death (i’m still not convinced they necessarily do), then maybe it’s not so strange. in the strong winds, her dust would have been long gone. or: who knows what wild animal could have gotten a hold of her?

that’s just the official declaration, though. that doesn’t mean everyone in hometown buys it. but that’s besides the point.

and mainly i insist on this because now we have a very interesting parallel to draw between her and berdly in the snowgrave route. both “vanish” in a terrible, terrible snowstorm. (i don’t think it’s a coincidence that the visuals for snowgrave look like a blizzard.) but i was thinking about it, and we can take the parallel further actually.

we are all more or less in agreement that it’s pretty damn likely that dess is stuck in the void/code of the game like gaster is. there’s a good chance that she’s the voice in the strings that’s calling for help. so, going off of how i interpret her disappearance—if she’s just in a dark world, that doesn’t make much sense, right? how did she get into the void from there? and even if no one believed kris’s story, the bunker would have been searched. like, the “world inside the bunker” bit sounds like a stretch, but any reasonable adult would conclude that the kids probably tried to take shelter in there. but if the bunker had been searched, then they would have discovered the dark world in there, right??

okay, well. what if the fountain had been sealed?

i’m not sure who/what/how. i’m leaning towards some kind of freak accident. it seems that kris’s process for sealing the fountains is pretty automatic, so maybe if they were just... brought too close to it. maybe this is where their issues with their soul started. i don’t know. what i do have an idea of is this: the two times we’ve seen a fountain sealed, it “cleans up” a bit. the lightners are brought back into their world in a way that makes sense, either to them (noelle and berdly thinking they’re waking up from an accidental nap) or to anyone who might walk in on them (kris and susie looking like they just hung out in the old classroom playing chess and old board games). it’s a combination of intent and whether the lightners believe the dark world is real or not. so when dess uses all of her strength to pick up noelle and kris and shove them out of the world that’s crumbling away into nothingness, at her own expense, they are quite literally shoved out of the bunker and into the cold snow outside, quickly falling unconscious due to shock and because they probably hit their heads, and the double doors of the bunker swing shut behind them.

and dess is swept away with the dark world. she’s now stuck in-between the worlds of light and dark. she exists, and yet, she doesn’t. she has gaster for company, and yet, she doesn’t.

the snowgrave route has raised the question of what happens when a lightner’s soul is stuck when a dark fountain is sealed. what if the popular theory for dess’s fate is our answer? i think berdly’s case would be different in a lot of ways, for a lot of reasons, but the core of it remains the same. he’s stuck between existence and nonexistence, able to be reached through what is—from our perspective but who knows what it is from an in-universe perspective—the code of the game.

perhaps because he is a lightner, he is a little more There, a little more consistent, than gaster’s fragmented self. dess has someone to talk to. someone who happened to be her little sister’s close friend, someone who can tell her about the person noelle has grown into over the years. someone, who can tell her that something is wrong.

could be interesting if, together, they found a way to tear through the boundaries of reality and broke into a future dark world. i’m not sure how they would manifest, because while i’ve settled on dess retaining her body, years in the void has caused her to become a little more..malleable. kinda like mr. goop-i-mean-gaster. and the idea with berdly is that because his body was frozen in the dark world, his consciousness/soul/self/whatever you want to call it was separated and thrown into the void. he’s not physical, at all. but all that just opens the door to some fun design possibilities, doesn’t it? :)

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 2 - the process

12 days - 12 oneshots | a collection of oneshots to celebrate royai

rated: g | words: 618

read on ao3

[part 2 of 2]

“Roy, don’t you think this is a little bit excessive?”

He blinked at the wall in front of him. An unremarkable wall. It was the same as all the others around town, made of boring old concrete. There were water patches on it from the melting snow on the roofs, trickling down slowly to join the rest of it on the ground.

“No.”

His reply was so simple. He didn’t think it was excessive at all. In fact, he frowned at that. If it was a gift for his friend it would never be excessive.

Chris hummed through the other side of the phone – hence why he was stuck facing the wall, rather than looking at the pretty, snow-covered town.

There was something in her voice too, something about the way she said it, that had Roy’s brows twitching downwards.

“What do you mean?”

Chris ignored his question, and he could almost picture her shaking her head. “Have you thought about where you’re going to get it from?”

Roy grimaced. “I’ve asked in the town. The shopkeeper said that was the last one. It was old and it had been donated, so they won’t be able to get their hands on anymore. She told me there was another bookshop two towns over, which I was going to try –”

“Didn’t you say there had been heavy snow there recently?”

His face lit up, missing out on picking up how sharp her question was.

“Yes! It’s so cool. I’ve never seen so much before.”

“I don’t want you trailing through the countryside to another town if the weather is poor.”

His face fell. “But –”

“No.” Chris was firm in her decision.

Roy sighed in frustration. What was he supposed to do now?

“I’ll have an ask around,” Chris offered. “See if anyone here has it to hand.”

“You’d do that?”

“Is this important to you?”

Roy paused and came to the realisation it was. It felt very important to him. “Yes, it is.”

“Then it is important to me too. I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you, Chris,” he gushed.

“Yeah, yeah, kid.” He could envision her waving off his gratitude just like she always did, but never maliciously. It was always done with love someone had once told him. She was just gruff like that. Sometimes Roy gushed, his eyes bright and his smile wide, just to get a rise out of her. For the kick of it.

“I’ll write to you with progress soon. So no heading out into snowstorms, okay?” Her quick command at the end had his spine straightening to attention.

“Yes, of course.”

She hummed to herself. “Good. Talk to you later, kid.” There were hints of amusement and affection in her tome as she bid him farewell.

“Bye, Chris!” He couldn’t stop his excitement from spilling over and he was sure his reply sounded like he was so young, but Roy didn’t care. He was just too pleased with himself and his little plan.

He was sure the look on Riza’s face would be worth it when the time came to give it to her. Roy was sure, because Chris had never failed him before. She always seemed to make the impossible happen and Roy knew she’d work extra hard at this, just like she did at everything else Roy had ever asked of her.

He never wanted to see the look he had on Riza’s face in that bookshop again.

And if he could, it was the least he could do for Christmas. He could tell how much this book meant to her and he’d do everything in his power to get his hands on it for her.

With determined steps he strode back to Riza’s house with confidence, his plan set in motion and finally moving forwards.

kudos and kind comments are always appreciated :)

read on ao3

feel free to send me an ask too!

[earnestly-endlessly]

*flies in like magneto* can i get some exes to lovers™?

Do I have some exes to lovers fics for you? Yes I certainly do. It seems that the cherik fandom loves some exes to lovers cherik and I don't blame anyone because this ship really calls for all the angst. I hope you enjoy this list.

Exes to Lovers AU

Bound – FuryRed

Summary: Is there anything worse than someone else’s wedding? Well, perhaps your sister’s wedding- where the groom just has to invite his boss and that man just happens to be your ex-boyfriend; a person you had an extremely passionate and tumultuous relationship with that ended badly.

Charles hadn’t seen Erik for a year by the time Raven had told him about the wedding. He wasn’t looking forward to the occasion, particularly when Raven explained that they would be celebrating the event with a two-week extravaganza at a luxury hotel, meaning that Charles would be forced to spend a whole fortnight with the man who he’d given everything to; the man who had ultimately broken his heart…

Preheat to 350 (just for you remix) – ikeracity

Summary: Charles realizes he's in love with Erik. But there's one tiny little problem: he just broke up with Erik.

Thread Through a Needle – Black_Betty

Summary: Erik and Charles are broken up. Neither of them want to be.

Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) – kianspo

Summary: While working as a model for Raven and Emma's clothing line, Erik experiences a strong attraction to his shoot partner. These things happen, except Erik has a boyfriend, who does not take this at all well.

Linger like a tattoo kiss – ikeracity

Summary: Six months apart gives Erik a lot of time to think about what he really wants.

(Erik's POV from Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) by kianspo)

Symphysis – ikeracity

Summary: After Charles and Erik broke up four months ago, Charles convinced himself he'd never see Erik again. But life has a funny way of bringing people back together.

Call/Response – phalangine

Summary: Charles and Erik have a real conversation for the first time since breaking up. Charles is looking to avoid confrontation. Erik is not.

Regression Therapy – Fantine_Black

Summary: O, God, he’d made a terrible mistake. Whatever he’d expected to find here, Erik was still Erik, a man he’d moved continents to avoid. In retrospect, that felt like a rather good idea…

Four years after Charles walked away from Professor Lehnsherr, the two meet again for a drink.

Because things are better the second time round, aren't they?

Forever is Only a Drunk Dial Away – bettysofia

Summary: Charles is sad and drunk and stalking Erik's Instagram.

Shop Space – Caradee

Summary: Charles and Erik break up but still meet at their favorite coffee shop and manage a completely friendly relationship. The kids who work the coffee shop don't understand it, Charles' overprotective twin brother doesn't understand it, and even Charles doesn't understand it. Then, Erik shows up with a new date, someone who seems to be everything that Charles is not.

How will the Professor handle the surprising heartbreak that comes seeing Erik with someone else?

Mutant House at Dead Kings College – mabyn

Summary: When it comes to romance, Charles has terrible timing.

Can You Feel My Heart – FuryRed

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.

It’s as true as the words written on the wall in the bathroom at the university that Erik attends. Erik sees them one day- accompanied by a crude drawing of Erik and Charles glaring at each other- and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.

He hates Charles.

Probably…

Believe (One More Time) – luninosity

Summary: For the prompt, Charles and Erik dated during college and had a bitter break-up right before graduation. It's five years later and they both meet again at their class's reunion for a weekend. Someone was even stupid enough to have them room with each other for the weekend...

Old Flame Burning – TurtleTotem

Summary: It's ridiculous for Charles to dread meeting the best man at his sister's wedding, just because he shares a name with Charles's ex. It's not as though it could possibly be the same Erik.

Don’t speak to the bartender – Wild_Imagination

Summary: Logan is a bartender, it's a gloomy evening, and in his bar there's someone with a broken heart. But this is not a movie.

Right?

Somewhere I’m Going & Have Never Been Before – Yahtzee

Summary: In late December 1984, Charles falls victim to the terrible pandemic sweeping across the globe. He's sick, probably dying, and utterly alone in an isolated cabin...until he's not.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland – TurtleTotem

Summary: Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.

Lean On Me – SpiritsFlame

Summary: Ten years ago, Charles and Erik split up, dividing their six kids between them. None of them expect them to meet at summer camp. And no one could have predicted the results.

It was a yellow umbrella spring – ikeracity

Summary: Three years after Charles left for Oxford, Erik discovers that Charles is coming back to New York.

Second chances are wonderful things.

My heart above my head – annejumps

Summary: Emma thinks her coworker Erik and her friend and fellow telepath Charles should get together. No one expects things to get so intense so quickly.

The Edge of What Doesn’t End – populuxe

Summary: When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.

Exit Wounds – LemonadeGarden

Summary: It's been eight months since Charles and Erik had a fight that broke apart their marriage. When a mutant rights protest goes awry and Charles begins to get sick, past memories and present obstacles begin to blur the lines of their ideological differences.

Alternatively: Charles and Erik learn how to fall in love again in troubled times.

Note: Unfinished

11 Days, 8 Hours and 12 Minutes (or Bruises, Stupidity and Anger Management) – ximeria

Summary: For six months, Erik and Charles have been the disgustingly happy couple of the school. Considering their pigheadedness and general communication skills (or lack thereof), things are bound to go boom at some point.

Moon Song – ikeracity

Summary: Werewolf AU. When Charles is captured by hunters, Erik and his pack go after him. It turns out there might be some room for redemption left for both of them after all.

I will Never Stop Loving You – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik and Charles split up three years ago but Erik never really got over it and then one day when the man who walked out of his life three years ago is walking down the street towards him, Erik sees an opportunity to mend fences.

Please leave your message after the tone – ikeracity

Summary: Spending his evening getting shitfaced and pining over Erik seems like a totally productive use of Charles's time. Luckily, it turns out to be a better idea than it sounds.

When the Spell Breaks – kianspo

Summary: Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.

We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven (the things you love don’t last remix) – hllfire

Summary: Charles hands Erik the signed divorce papers, but Erik has changed his mind. Too late, it seems. All he can do is go forward with the divorce.

A year later, Charles comes back, and Erik can't help but wanting to see him. The only problem is things don't go like Erik had planned.

Suddenly There’ll Be a Blizzard (Let it Snow Remix) – kianspo

Summary: Charles was never at his best while jetlagged, but locking himself out in a snowstorm while barely dressed might be a new low. The last thing he expected was to be rescued by his high school nemesis, the man he hadn't seen in over ten years, who might have broken his heart for good once upon a time.

Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash

Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.

All we do is break up (and make up) – Stuckyl0v3r

Summary: "So instead of making the most out of this next months, because you don't know where either of you is going to end up, you decided to stay away from each other to get used to the feeling?" Hank summed up, stopping in front of the class. Charles nodded his head confidently and beamed at him, but somehow his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, something like that."

Well, that was the most idiotic plan Hank's ever heard.

Three wheels of cheese and a Great White – ximeria

Summary: Charles and Erik were friends with benefits in college.

They went their separate ways and 18 years later, they run into each other in New York.

The sex was never a problem back in college - and sex was all it had been. But now Erik is a divorced father and Charles has admitted to himself he needs more than just sex in a relationship. So in their usual round-about way they try to navigate becoming friends after so many years. The whole quest is aided by Raven, Edie, Wanda and Pietro (and a large number of shark jokes).