#and i may not approach a piece the same way today

[timothyolyphant]

if you don't cringe just a little bit at your older creative work then you have to indulge more in the pleasure of it all and allow yourself to continue to be creative even if later down the line you might believe it's inherently bad

[kaysungshine]

𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡

{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader

{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship

{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.

{ WC } - 2.9k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.

The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 

You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 

You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 

You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;

'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.

You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.

This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;

'making music is my stress relief.'

That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 

So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 

You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 

Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 

It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 

You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 

Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 

Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 

Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.

 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 

In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 

There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 

You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 

You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 

He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 

He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 

You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 

Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 

When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 

"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 

He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 

"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 

Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 

"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 

That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 

You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.

You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 

You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.

Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 

Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 

All white. 

Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.

So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.

He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 

"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 

He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 

All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 

He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 

Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 

His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 

His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 

"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"

You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 

His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 

A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 

Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 

You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 

His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 

"Ji..." You moan, needing more.

"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.

His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 

You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 

He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 

You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 

He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"

Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 

He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.

"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 

He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 

"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 

Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 

You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 

Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 

"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."

His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 

Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."

And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 

You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 

That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 

You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 

"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 

He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 

His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 

You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 

"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 

His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.

Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 

"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.

He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 

"Fuck, Ji, I-" 

He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 

You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.

"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 

He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 

You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 

His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.

He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 

Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 

"So fucking sexy, my good girl."

"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."

"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."

"My perfect angel."

It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.

He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 

You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 

"I love you." You finally murmur. 

"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 

"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.

He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 

You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 

"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 

You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 

You knew the night was far from over. 

As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

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@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale

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But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[cursedyuri]

a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)

tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only

the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.

even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.

she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.

but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.

you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.

you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.

“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”

“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”

she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.

“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.

“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”

so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.

you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.

but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.

“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”

your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.

“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”

so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”

you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”

it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.

on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.

but you decide you don’t want that today.

when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.

suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.

you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.

“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.

your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”

you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.

ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”

and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.

“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”

she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.

“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.

“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.

she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”

another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”

ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.

this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.

your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.

spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.

“hey,” she says, “i love you.”

you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”

her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leech, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

[loafgeto]

ᝬ 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⤵︎

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re getting your first apartment with your own money, but there has been a complication with the housing and you were accidentally roomed with a stranger.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ mdni, explicit language, age gap (reader is 22, while toji is 30), she/her pronouns, big dick toji, masturbation, teasing, dirty talk, size kink, fingering, squirting, orgasming, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), slight breast play, pet names (pretty/good girl, sweetheart, princess). if i miss anything lmk. NOT proofread, ignore typos

wc: 6.4k (DIDNT KNOW I WROTE THIS MUCH LMFAOO)

a/n: uh if you guys see me use “princess” so much then like don’t mind me cuz i love the pet name and toji seems to suit saying it too. anyways, contemplating on what to write next 😟

After graduating university and acquiring your dream job, you were finally able to buy your own apartment with your savings from countless overworking shifts and paychecks. To say the least, all of the exhaustion and frustration was definitely worth it.

Today was the day you’d get your keys, and officially move in your things. The apartment consisted of a single bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen and a personal laundry area— all suitable for one person. When you first toured the building, you instantly fell in love and knew it was going to be your place of living for a while. So, you signed the paperwork and officially got the place.

You arrived at your apartment that afternoon, the feeling of excitement flowing through your veins. The neighborhood was relatively welcoming and safe, and there were many amenities surrounding the area, making it easily accessible.

As you were walking to the main office to retrieve your keys, your attention was primarily directed to the nature around you, along with the lively kids running around at the playground and other residents walking by, greeting you with smiles and quick hellos.

After settling in, you planned to get yourself a pet— whether it be a dog or cat, or both. You wanted some company at least.

When you arrived at the main office, you were greeted by a timid young man. “Hello there! Good afternoon. How may I help you today?” he questions when you approach the desk.

“Hello! I’m here to pick up my keys to my apartment. I just moved into the neighborhood,” you reply with a smile.

“Of course, may I have your name?” the male continues to inquire and you give him your information before he goes into the back. He returns shortly afterwards with a key and a piece of paper. “Here are your keys! If you have any concerns or questions please come back here.”

“Thank you so much,” you give the young man a final smile before you took the keys into your own hands. You were way beyond excited now and quickly left the main office to return to your car which was parked right by your apartment.

The movers would arrive that evening, so you were able to use some hours to adjust to the new place— or even buy some groceries since you already had a fridge installed— or figure out how to decorate the entire apartment. There were many options for you to choose, but you decided to pick whenever you got there.

At the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder who your neighbors would be. Would they be welcoming and respectful? Or rude and impolite? Even if they weren’t the best people, you’d hope to at least get on their good side so there’d be no issues.

You arrived at your apartment’s door minutes later, thrilled to unlock it and step inside, getting a whiff of the new life ahead of you. APARTMENT D, 404. Inserting the keys into the key hole, you twist and unlock the door before pushing the door open.

Of course, this apartment was only suitable for at least one person and if a couple were to move in together, they’d have to work together on the space. So, is someone going to tell you why a man is standing right ahead of you— drenched in shower water and only in a towel that’s wrapped around his hips?

Your mouth dropped, eyes observing how defined and muscular his entire body was, but that wasn’t the point. Clearly, you stepped into the wrong apartment. Right?

“O-Oh- I’m so sorry! I think I accidentally went into the wrong apartment!” you could feel blood rush to your cheeks due to embarrassment and you quickly avoid gazes with him. You were confused, you knew this was your apartment— your keys, the slip and signed papers could prove it all.

So why—

“You’re Y/n?” the male questions, clearly unaffected by the situation.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! Yes, I’m Y/n!” you reply, giving him a nod as you finally turn to him. Gosh, what is happening? “I-I’m so sorry once again, I probably got my keys mixed up or something—“

“You didn’t,” the male intervenes, now approaching closer to you.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re goin’ to be roommates for a while, until they get the housing shit sorted out. You heard, didn’t you?” he questions, tilting his head, as if you were already aware of this situation.

“Huh? Roommates?” your eyes widen, mouth dropping once again. From what you can recall, no one and nothing has mentioned about you getting a roommate— let alone it being a guy!

“Oh, guess not then,” the male awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with his hand, finally understanding that you had no knowledge about this whatsoever. “Let’s introduce each other first then. Toji Fushiguro, nice to meet you, sweetheart. We’ll be roommates for a week or so.”

“Wh-What? Okay, I did not pay and sign the papers for this!” you raise your voice and Toji only shrugs.

“Complain to them. Not me.”

And you did. After Toji dressed himself in proper clothes, you dragged him with you back to the main office. It was natural for someone to be infuriated and confused with this matter, but you couldn’t believe it was happening to you.

You always check your messages and emails, even from accounts you barely ever use, and you swore you never detected anything that would relate to having a complete stranger living with you in your new apartment. There were no letters or calls from the management of the apartment complex either, so you were still confused on why this was happening.

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience, miss Y/n and mister Toji,” the manager who you called just moments ago bows his head down, apologizing to you. “There was several problems with the housing situation and we are trying to sort it out. There are several movers who have this problem so please don’t worry about being the only ones!”

“That’s not that I’m concerned about here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Y-Yes, of course. Please, we are still situating the problem and are doing the best we can. Please allow us a week and a half or so to solve the issue. We will report back to you both by then. We hope you understand,” the manager continues, keeping his head lowered.

You were about to reply when Toji presses a hand on your shoulder, intervening the conversation. “She understands. Thank you for your time,” he says, beginning to dismiss the two of you out before you could even utter anything.

“Hey! Don’t you think you’re being too calm with the situation?!” you stop and turn to him as he removes his hand away from your shoulder when you both step outside.

Toji shrugs, not returning a glance as he kept walking forward. “Don’t you think you’re being too dramatic over this? You heard them, they’re sorting it out. It’s just gonna be a week, sweetheart. If you got a problem, stay somewhere else until then.”

“What?!” your eyes follow him before your legs moved to catch up to his side. “First of all— don’t call me sweetheart. Second, of course I’m going to be pissed about this because I did not pay for this! Third, I have no where else to go and I can’t just crash at a friend’s with all of my things?!”

“Mistakes happen,” Toji says, now looking at you. “And well, if you have no where else to go— then deal with it, for a week. Sweetheart.”

Toji smiles before heading back to the apartment, leaving you even more infuriated. No matter what, you’re going to avoid this man until he finally gets moved somewhere else.

Or so you thought.

After your movers brought in your things, Toji made you pile your boxes into a corner for the time being— since there was no need to decorate the place at the moment. You figured and complied, not wanting to argue with this man.

For some reason, your mattress didn’t end up arriving with the rest of your belongings, so you had to sleep on your futon— beside of Toji’s. Of course, you wanted to sleep in the farthest corner away from him, but he insisted he wasn’t going to do anything.

Toji kept to himself, rarely trying to make some sort of conversation with you, but it wasn’t like you were complaining. He normally spent his attention on his phone, as if he was messaging someone or whatever. He’d randomly laugh or say something when it’d be quiet, catching you off guard.

You never said anything and plugged your earbuds into your ear, trying to avoid him at all cost. Closing your eyes, you just told yourself over and over again that this was only for a week or so. And then soon, you’ll never have to encounter him as much anymore.

As night fell, you suddenly felt the urge to eat. You had completely forgotten about grocery shopping and there wasn’t any open stores you could go to. You figured a quick stop at the convenience store would help, and decided to go there instead for something to eat.

You slip on your jacket and grab your wallet and phone. You hadn’t realize Toji was in the kitchen, doing something until you stepped in, watching as he was waiting for the pot of water to boil.

Toji noticed you from the corner of his eyes, and he turns, giving you a placid expression. “What?”

“Oh.. nothing. I’m just going to the convenience store since there’s no food for me here,” you reply to him before walking past him to the front door.

“Want me to come with?” Toji’s offer slightly appalls you and you turn back around to face him as you slip on your shoes. You’re uncertain, and Toji could notice that. “It’s late, wouldn’t want a young woman like you to get hurt, y’know.”

“It’s.. fine,” you say, with a little grin before turning back around, fondling with your keys. “Besides, you already seen occupied yourself.”

Toji didn’t respond for a moment, and when you were about to turn around again, he was suddenly behind you. Surprised, you nearly had a heart attack because how swift he was getting ready to accompany you out.

“Let’s go,” Toji says, already dressed in a jacket with shoes on. You give him a blank stare, but you didn’t say anything as you both exit the apartment.

Toji stood behind of you as you both walked to the nearest convenience store down the street. It was silent between the two of you— the only noise being distant cars, crickets chirping, and the soft sounds of your footsteps. Not only that, it was quite cooler in the night, which made you cuddle yourself beneath your jacket.

You didn’t once turn around to look at Toji, and even if you wanted to, you didn’t want to seem weird for just looking at him and not saying anything. He’d probably expected you to start a conversation or even inquire why you were randomly looking at him. You were overthinking at that moment, but for a fact, you were sort of glad Toji accompanied you.

The two of you arrived at the convenience store shortly enough and you went to grab a basket for your items. You figured Toji would do the same and go separate directions, but you quickly noticed that he was following you around instead.

You figured this could be a time to start a conversation. “Well. Is there anything you want? You can just put it in the basket and I can buy it for you,” you say, offering as a reward of gratitude since he had accompanied you.

“Nah. I’m fine,” Toji declines.

“Are you sure?” you repeat, and he nods his head, assuring you that he didn’t necessarily need anything to eat.

But even if Toji said he didn’t want anything, you decided to get him something. You found yourself getting a lot of food due to that and you felt slightly embarrassed, thinking that Toji probably thought you were odd for getting that much food for a night.

After paying the items and walking back to the apartment, you just couldn’t help but begin to feel curious about Toji— even after planning to deliberately avoid him the entire week or so. He was just an individual that you’ve never necessarily encountered before.

You didn’t know what made him stand out from other people, but there was definitely something about him. And so, you decide to start a conversation again.

“So. Toji,” you say, turning your head around since he was walking behind you again. His eyes raise to meet yours and he tilts his head. “Since we are going to be living with each other for a week.. shouldn’t we get to know each other.”

“Thought you hated me,” Toji smiles.

“What? No! I never said that! Yes, I was rude to you earlier but I was just upset at the housing situation since I didn’t expect it.. or even heard about it until today,” you sigh, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. “Well. Anyways. Let’s start with the basics— how old are you or whatever.”

“Hm,” Toji hums, eyes observing your face. “I’m 30”

“Oh, wow. You’re 8 years older than me,” you reply, nodding your head. Well, you honestly thought he was younger, but the age made sense due to his appearance. His built was great too. “I’m 22.”

“Fresh out of college, huh?”

“Yes.. technically. Almost been half a year since I graduated,” you nod your head. Okay, this conversation was going better than expected. “Did you go to university, Toji?”

“Nah. Waste of time and money. I left from home when I was 18,” Toji answers and your eyes slightly widen from the unexpected response. Well, you definitely didn’t think of that possibility at all.

“Oh..” you nod, wondering what to inquire next before it became silently awkward again.

“What did you study in college?” Toji then asked.

“I studied in business! It’s a common major but it’ll get me around. I found a good job during my third year of college and took an internship. And after graduating, they officially hired me,” you reply to his question, giving him a smile. Toji didn’t seem like a bad person at all.

“Young ones like you make me regret not going to college,” Toji chuckles softly as he was now walking next to you.

“Well, you can still go to college. There’s no age limit at all. You’re still young too, you know. I met some people in their late 40’s who are attending university,” you comment, hoping that would give him some consideration if he actually still wanted to attend.

Toji only gives you a glance before turning his head to look ahead. “I’ll think about it.”

The two of you finally arrived back at the apartment. You felt extremely relieved about the conversation you just had with Toji and figured you could actually end up being friends with him.

From that moment, the two of you detected another couple as you both approached the door leading to the apartment. They lived next door, the woman was patiently waiting for her partner to open the door as they spoke.

“Oh! This couple must be our new neighbors, dear!” the woman says and gently taps her husband’s shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of you and Toji.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you both,” you and Toji bow your heads. “And we’re not—“

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both! We heard we were getting new neighbors but I wasn’t sure when we would be able to properly meet,” the man quickly spoke before you could add that you and Toji weren’t a couple.

“Yes, yes. It’s nice to know that we aren’t the only couples living here— since this apartment complex is a single room and the rest are two person or above friendly,” the woman giggles. “Oh! How about we have a dinner tonight?!”

“Thank you but we—“ you start again, but Toji interrupts.

“I apologize, not tonight. We still have a lot of things to unpack. Maybe another night,” Toji says, placing a hand on your shoulder before pulling you close. “Plus, she’s very tired and we wouldn’t want to bother the two of you.”

“Oh dear, no, it’s fine! Another time then,” the woman nods with a reassuring smile.

“Well then, we can talk about dinner plans whenever,” her husband says before opening the door to their home.

After chatting a few more times and introducing each other with names, the woman gives you and Toji one last smile. “By the way, the walls here are very thin. Try not to get a noise complaint from the single person’s living around here!”

And then, she gives you two a wave before following her husband inside. You and Toji remain silent, processing what she meant, until it hit you.

You quickly went into the apartment without saying anything to Toji and he follows behind, closing the door as you placed the bag of food on the kitchen counter.

“Anyways. Let’s eat!” you say, turning to Toji who appears absolutely unaffected by what just happened. He gives you a look before you add on. “Oh, I bought enough food for the two of us, so you might as well eat some with me.”

There was a table in the small room you and Toji shared, so the two of you gathered there. You begin assembling the food across the table as Toji sat across from you.

“Oh, so that’s why you bought a lot,” Toji comments.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to just watch me eat everything if you’re hungry. That’d be rude,” you reply, placing a set of chopsticks ahead of him. “And besides, take it as a thank you for accompanying me to the convenience store.”

“If you insist,” Toji says with a smile as he lifts the chopsticks in his hands.

The two of you began eating, in silence once again. There really wasn’t much to inquire about, and even if there was, you don’t want to pry into Toji’s personal space too much.

And eventually, the quick dinner ended and the two of you cleaned up the table and threw any trash and store leftovers. You figured it was a good start to living with Toji for a week, and maybe there would be better options tomorrow.

While Toji was in the bathroom, you were sitting on your futon in the corner and had your back against the wall. You were scrolling through your phone, whether it be from messages to posts on social media, you were just bored and wasn’t feeling tired at all.

You changed into a shirt and sleeping shorts before wrapping a warm blanket around your body. You remained on your phone for a while, until you began hearing noises from the other side of the wall your back was against.

From what you could gather, it was the couple you and Toji met earlier. They seemed to be talking and moving around, muffled noises would follow after. You figured they must be rearranging something, since you recalled to the woman saying how thin the wall was.

You began hearing shuffling noises right by you, as if their bed was directly next to the wall on the other side. You blink several times, beginning to avoid what they were doing.

After several moments, you began hearing soft moans of the woman, which caught you off guard and flustered. The lewd noises were consistent, and she kept saying her husband’s name with such affection. They were fucking, literally, right by the other side of the wall.

You remain flustered, as you continued listening to them. You could’ve honestly just put in your earbuds and blast loud music to avoid listening further, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It was slowly turning you on.

The imagination of having your neighbors being able to hear you and someone fucking turned you on. You were completely lost in your thoughts as your breathing became heavier and you slipped one hand down between your thighs.

You pressed your ear against the wall, hearing the moans and grunts become louder by the minute. You bite your lower up, refraining from making any noise as you push your hands beneath your short and under your panties.

Your middle finger began rubbing circles against your clit, before gliding down your folds that were beginning to become soaked with your arousal. Fuck. This was a very risky situation, given the fact that Toji was still around and could leave the bathroom any moment.

But by then, you didn’t even think about him. You kept your attention on pleasuring yourself and the sex on the other side of the wall. Honestly, you wanted nothing more but to be fucked just like that. After you previous relationship, you hadn’t gotten with anyone and it’s been at least over a year.

You push two of your fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them up and moving them in and out. You started to let out low moans while biting down your lip, refraining them to be louder. Shit.. you’d never thought you could be turned on like this.

Pushing your thighs further apart, you sink your fingers deeper into your pussy, your arousal beginning to stick on your knuckles as you thrust them in and out. You take them out, rubbing your clit once again with your wet fingers before pushing them back in your hole.

Your neighbors continued to fuck, the woman’s moans bouncing off the walls and resonating your quiet room. But it all came to a stop when you heard the bathroom door opening, causing you to panic and quickly pull your hands away.

You were so close to being caught.

Toji walks into the room, towel over his shoulder as his eyes directed to you. He was slightly confused, noticing how flustered you were. “You okay there?” he questions.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter, realizing that the neighbor’s noises were still very much detectable.

Toji definitely heard them already, but he hadn’t address it yet. The room fell silent as the neighbors moans begin to become heard once again, and the awkwardness between you and Toji arose.

“They’re not too loud,” Toji finally comments with a sly grin.

“You think?” you raise a brow, keeping your eyes away from his. Your body was beginning to become hotter, mostly due to the embarrassment of almost being caught.

“Why are you so flustered?” Toji inquired as he starts walking closer to you.

“I’m not! I’m just— surprised!” you try to make some sort of excuse as you kept avoiding his gaze. Toji stood ahead of you before kneeling down to your level. You clear your throat, turning your head slightly and locking eyes with him.

Toji’s grin becomes wider. “You turned on or something?”

“Excuse me? I’m-“ you start but Toji was quick to hush you by leaning closer to your face, one of his hands pressing against the wall beside of your face.

“Come on. Listen to them. Aren’t you imagining and wishing it was happening to you instead?” Toji starts to tease you, his smile becoming more mischievous as your face grows even more timid.

“Please.. stop..” you turn your head away from him. It didn’t help that Toji was so close to you. It was true, you were still turned on, but you definitely didn’t want to admit it.

“Well, we’re going to be listening to them all night then,” Toji says, about to turn away when you grab his hand. He looks at you, quite surprised with your actions but he didn’t stop you. He only chuckles before leaning closer to your face again. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Can’t use words to admit that you’re turned on?”

You only shake your head, glancing at him several times and then at another direction. It was embarrassing, but Toji found it amusing.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Toji says, grasping his hand around your wrist and pulls you towards him. You were surprised but didn’t restrain as Toji presses you down on your futon. “Normally I’d get paid to do this. But you’ll be an exception.”

“People pay you to fuck them?”

“Some of the time. I follow the request of anyone in order to get money. It’s how I was able to get one of these apartments in the first place,” Toji snickers, laying beside of you and removing the blanket from your body. “So, you wanna do this, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes..” you nod, looking up at him.

Cute, Toji smiles before hovering his body over you. From the very moment you two met, he noticed how small you were compared to him. He’d imagine you being so afraid of him putting his cock in you, but he’d assure you that it would fit. Seeing how you were when it came to sex caused Toji to be slightly amused— since he never expected to get to this point with you.

“Ever slept with a man 5 plus years older than you before?” Toji inquires, slipping his hand between your thigh. He starts rubbing your inner thigh, close to your pelvic area, which makes you tremble.

“N-No.. not at all. My first time,” you reply, nearly squirming at Toji’s cold hands against your skin.

“Yeah?” Toji smiles, using his hands to slide off your shorts, and eventually your soaked panties. You felt embarrassed, trying to cover yourself up once Toji tosses the materials away. But he push your legs apart with his strength and aligns his body between them. “God, you’re so wet. Gonna fuck this pussy and make you scream even louder.”

“T-Toji..” you whine, covering your face with your hands.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you sweetheart,” Toji chuckles, noting how impatient you are.

Toji glides the tip of his middle finger against your wet entrance, making you squirm. He pushes two fingers into your pussy and presses his thumb against your clit. The feeling of his long and thick fingers thrust inside you made you reach an instant ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

Your moans started to drop from your mouth even more as Toji drives his finger deeper into your pussy, creating squelching noises. He smirks, rubbing circles against your clit with his thumb before he secretly inserts another finger.

“F-Fuck, Toji!” you gasp, feeling the third finger slip in. His fingers were so long and big. Comparing to yours, he’d be able to wrap your hands in his.

“I like how you say my name, princess,” Toji whispers, leaning in close to press a kiss on your forehead. “Come on, keep saying it.”

“Toji.. Toji..” you slowly chant through your moans as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you faster.

You’ve never had three fingers in you before, it was very much a new and different experience, but you fucking loved it. Toji curls his fingers, rubbing against your g-spot and making you reach closer to your orgasm.

His fingers kept pleasuring you in ways you’ve never thought you’d experience again, yet even better. Toji uses his other hand to hold your face, making you look at him as he fucks you with his fingers and making you moan his name out.

“Toji—“ you moan out, using one hand to grip his hand on your face. “Gonna c-cum..”

“Already?” Toji hums, maintaining the pace of his fingers pumping into your pussy. He slips one out, being able to thrust the two in and out faster. Your lewd noises start permeating the room, along with the wet noises of your pussy.

“Fuck, yes, Toji! I’m cu—“ you holler out, throwing your head back as you squirted immediately after. Your body trembles as you came all over your futon and fall back down against the ground.

“Not bad, sweetheart,” Toji comments as he slips his fingers out and into his mouth, getting the taste of you.

You don’t say anything besides watch him. You’re catching your breath, hands still slightly covering your flustered expression, until Toji reaches for his sweatpants. He was definitely hard now, from his way his cock was poking out.

“Damn. Never been this hard before,” Toji grunts as he pushes his pants down, his cock leaping up instantly. Your eyes observe in awe, and you give him a slight concerning expression.

“T-Toji.. it’s not gonna fit..” you say as Toji starts pumping his hard cock that was already leaking with pre-cum.

“I’ll make it fit.”

Toji gives you a smile before pressing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He moves his cock up and down against your folds, soaking the tip with your arousal and teasing your clit. Not only was he a bigger man, but his dick was too. You’ve only ever seen something like that in pornography, but being able to see it in person was appalling.

“Ready, princess?” Toji asks as he lifts his gaze to you.

You give him a nod and Toji instantly pushes his cock into you, making you squirm as you felt his dick stretch you out. “S-shit. So big, Toji..” you comment, both hands grabbing his biceps.

“Fuck- see that? Your pussy is already taking me so good,” Toji grunts before thrusting his entire length into you, earning more moans from your mouth. He starts moving his hips, using both hands to guide your legs further apart and starts thrusting faster.

The feeling of his big cock rubbing against the walls of your pussy was already driving you insane. Toji felt you clench him tightly as he thrusted, which makes him smirk, seeing how addicted you were already becoming to him.

Toji then pulls away and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, before pounding his cock right back into your dripping cunt. Your moans were escalating at that point, his name falling out of your mouth like a music note, and you both knew anyone around could hear how good he was fucking you.

“Toji- fuck yes, just like that!” you cry out, feeling the tip of his cock kiss your womb.

“Shit, princess. Everyone in this neighborhood is gonna know my name now,” Toji grunts again, thrusting his cock deeper into you before using a finger to rub your clit.

Your fingers curve against the skin of his biceps and your nails dig into his flesh, creating your nail marks on his skin as he pounded you. The sound of your moans and his grunts along with the wet slapping sounds began resonating the room, and your mind started becoming foggy.

Toji removes one of your hands from his biceps and presses it down on your lower stomach. “You feel that? You feel how deep I am inside of you?” Toji inquires, placing his hand over yours and you give him a nod.

“Yes- Toji. So fucking deep, keep going,” you beg, seeing water in your eyes due to the amount of pleasure this man was giving to you. “Want you to kiss me, Toji.”

Toji doesn’t hesitate and leans down, pressing his lips against yours while guiding both of your legs to wrap around his waist as he continues thrusting into you. One of your hands reach up to grasp his hair and tug him closer to you while your tongues start pressing against each others and your moans were falling into his mouth.

The welled tears finally began streaming down the sides of your face and Toji wipes them away while still kissing you. He pulls away, lifting you up with him. “Face the wall,” he commands and you listen, getting on your knees and pressing your hands against the wall when facing it.

Toji aligns himself behind of you, completely towering over you. He loved how small you were compared to him. He grabs the side of your hips, pushing them back against his before slamming his cock right back into you.

“O-Oh, fuckk,” you moan, feeling his dick penetrate you so deep and rubbing against your g-spot perfectly.

You clench around his cock again, making him groan as he starts thrusting. Your forehead presses against the cold sensation of the wall and you’re moaning even louder than before. Toji slides one hand beneath the shirt you’re still wearing and pushes your bra to the side to grope your breast.

“Such nice tits you have princess,” Toji mumbles in your ear before kissing your neck several times.

You’re crying again while uncontrollably moaning and screaming his name, begging for him to fuck you faster, rougher, and touch you more. His thick cock gliding against the walls of your pussy was making you reach your next orgasm and Toji could tell that you were close.

Toji’s hips slams against your ass to the point that you believed it would leave a mark later. He leans forward, using one hand to grab your neck and pull your head back. Your eyes meet his and you both share a quick kiss.

“‘m gonna cum again!” you cry out, eyes shutting as you were finally close to cumming.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?” Toji murmurs, kissing the side of your face before returning his hand to the side of your hips. He rocks his hips faster, pounding so fucking deep into you that your body is railing against the wall.

“Toji—“ you moan out his name as you came all over him and your body nearly drops to the ground as you heavily breathe for air.

Toji grunts, feeling your cum all over him as he slips his cock out. He was still quite hard, due to not cumming and he too finds himself catching for air. You turn around, giving him a look to indicate that you weren’t done and it caught Toji by surprise.

Your mouth ended up finding its way to Toji’s cock and you began pumping him with your two hands. Toji groans, looking down at you as your tongue began swirling around the swollen tip of this throbbing dick. Imagining how your small mouth was going to take his cock was appealing to him, and he desperately wanted to shove himself down your throat.

Your mouth latches on the tip of his cock as you’re uncertain whether or not to take his entire length into your mouth, but you wanted to try. You start sucking and licking your tongue all around the tip, while pumping the rest of his length with your hand.

“F-Fuck,” Toji stammers as you look up into his eyes. “Gotta feel your entire mouth around me, princess.”

You begin pushing your face forward, making his cock sink deeper into your mouth until his tip smacked your throat. He was nearly halfway in your mouth, but you swore you couldn’t take him any further.

Toji groans as you start bobbing your head slowly, feeling his hand grasp your hair. His dick twitches inside your mouth, causing you to moan. You return one hand to pump his cock as your mouth moved up and down, your saliva covering his entire length.

“Your mouth’s so fucking good,” Toji compliments, watching your every movement. He’d never thought someone could take his cock so sensually. “Such a pretty girl.”

You squirm as you return your mouth around his tip, sucking and licking it before pushing your head back down. Toji grits his teeth, admiring how good you’re taking his cock and making him reach close to his orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum, princess,” Toji whines, the hand grasping your hair tightening as he gently rocks his hips.

Hearing that, you start moving and bobbing your head faster, sucking and licking his entire cock as wet and your lewd noises spilled from your mouth. You pump his cock several times again, enjoying the moans he was making.

Toji groans, pushing your head slightly for his cock to enter deeper into your mouth. You wince, surprised by this and shut your eyes as he initially begins guiding your head on his cock.

“Shit. I’m cumming now,” Toji says, throwing his head back slightly as he shoots his cum deep into your mouth and you moan, feeling the warm liquid hit your throat.

Toji could feel and watches as you swallow his cum, making a slight face afterwards to which he chuckles. You pull your head away from his cock, a small string of saliva connected from your tongue to the tip of his dick being seen before disconnecting. You were exhausted and nearly slumped over, but Toji caught you by placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You did good,” Toji says, lifting your face up with his hand before kissing you, to which you returned. The kiss was more passionate and gentle, and you couldn’t believe you were craving more from him.

But because of this, you both knew that there was no need for the other to move out.

—

The next morning, you woke up feeling numb and immediately recalled to the events of that night as your eyes opened to see that Toji was no longer beside of you. After cleaning up, you and Toji ended up sleeping on his futon, since yours was drenched in cum.

You sense blood rushing to your cheeks as the events start replaying in your head and your heart couldn’t stop racing. You were in Toji’s clothes instead of yours and you could whiff the distinct smell of his scent.

Pushing yourself up from the futon, you remove the covers from your body and walked towards the kitchen. When arriving by the entrance to the kitchen, you notice Toji standing by the door, his back facing you.

He was talking to someone, but the conversation was muffled, so you couldn’t detect anything they were saying. After a moment, Toji closes the door and turns around, eyes meeting yours instantly.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Toji says, holding a small piece of paper and appearing unaffected by whatever was written on it.

“What’s that? And who was that at the door?” you inquire, raising a brow as Toji approaches you.

“Seems like we got a noise complaint,” Toji snickers, showing you the paper he was given and allowed you to briefly glance over it before crumpling it up and tossing it to the side.

Toji snakes an arm around you, his hand cupping your ass and pulling you close. Your lips immediately crashed against his and you both share a sloppy kiss before pulling away.

“Guess we should be louder tonight then.”

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

[lint-beetle4]

May I ask for a separate wukong and macaque with a chubby reader? Scenarios like "I should lose weight" "Please don't"

You can make it spicy too if you want

Beautifully You (Wukong & Macaque X Chubby!Reader)

Wukong:

Wukong loved how chubby you were

He loved squeezing you and feeling how warm your body was

So when you kept questioning your body, looking at it with a certain disgust, he was heart-broken

He didn't like how you couldn't see the natural beauty in your body, how you looked at it like it had wronged you somehow

"You know you look amazing, right?" "Has anyone been telling you lies?"

Wukong is well aware of the cruelty of humanity, how people of the same species can target their own brothers for being different or acting in a way that seems strange

The celestial realm had people like that, and Wukong didn't care for it

He wouldn't allow other people to hurt you like he's been hurt

"You're so pretty today! I love the way you look!" "Don't listen to them; you're perfect just the way you are"

Wukong will take extra measures to make sure you eat right and that you're kinder on yourself

If you start eating less than you shoulder or looking at yourself in the mirror with a forlorn expression, he'll set you on the couch, hugging you and whispering kind words to you

"I know it can be hard to be different. I love you no matter what." "It's okay to eat. Taking care of yourself means eating as much as your body needs."

Macaque:

"Really? Why?"

Macaque is confused the whole time. He saw nothing wrong with you whatsoever

Your chub was just a part of you, why be ashamed in it?

"Is someone bothering you?" "I think you look just fine."

The only conclusion he can make about your sudden comment is that someone is being mean about it

He stalks your shadows more than he should, but the man can't help but be protective over you if it concerns your health and mental image

Macaque already has his own issues about his appearance, so to see that you wish to change a perfectly fine body is familiarly irritating to him

"If you don't eat in 15 minutes, I'll force food into your mouth." "Glaring at yourself in the mirror isn't going to solve your problem."

Macaque is a tad...rough in his approach, he makes sure you take care of yourself whether you like it or not

And when it comes to how you view yourself? Oh, he'll give you his piece of mind

"You're naturally beautiful. Why chase after it more?" "You know what I see? A wonderful person who caught my eyes, but can't seem to look at their own."

He really does love you, but he doesn't know how to tackle problems like that. So he tends to brute force it until something sticks

His main method of showing his love to you and your body is by simply embracing you out of nowhere, nuzzling into your neck while he holds you close to him

All he says is a simple, "I love you," before he pulls away from you to make your next meal

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

[saltofmercury]

As someone who has just fallen for König, thank you for the reading material. He's just more adorable now. May I request a 'there was only one bed' trope with König? If you don't feel comfortable with it or need anything else please let me know. <3

First of all, very very special thank you. You are the first to make me think of TWO ideas for this prompt but I will be publishing that one later.

Second, I’m surprised I never thought of this prompt for myself!

Anyway I love u and I hope you like this version and I’ll tag ya in the second one.

“There’s only one.”

At the start of your relationship, König was polite. Too polite. Maybe it was the cultural differences or the military instilled in him but between you two but he always kept his distance from you.

He asked to hold your hand when many other men would just simply grab your hand and intertwine their fingers against yours.

He asked if he could have a kiss, it was cute, almost innocent the way he asked as if he would get in trouble if he stole one.

Further down your relationship when you spent the night at each other’s houses he would leave you in his room while he took the couch. Same thing when he stayed at your house. He took your couch and never gave it a second thought.

You always respected this, even appreciated that he was so gentle with you, he was never one to be so forward with you, but it was just eating you up inside… does he really like me?

*

One afternoon while you two were building a puzzle together he casually brought up a “holiday” for you two.

“It’s not far, it’s technically up north from where we are now.”

You looked up at him from the table still holding a blue piece clearly not finding its spot. Was this extra?

“You want to go up north?” You say, still concentrating if the manufacturer had given you 501 pieces instead.

“I think it would be fun. A change of environment” he had said simply. He looked down now hoping you would say yes. He was fidgeting in the middle of the puzzle. König was so backwards to you. He worked on the middle of the puzzle and then slowly worked out.

You thought it over.

It was harmless, you needed a break from work and you craved a little more interaction, affection from him.

“Okay let’s do it.”

*

The ride up north should have been long, tedious, and never ending. Surprisingly it had become a great window of opportunity for the two of you. He told you about his childhood. A restless, dangerous, and tornado of a child in his backyard.

You loved when he talked to you about his childhood, it helped you piece together the guy that he was today. You laughed and smiled at all his expressions, his concentration to storytelling.

When you had arrived at the hotel, he took the opportunity to unpack for you and carry your luggage as you went to reserve a spot for dinner.

You requested an outside table, the wait would be about 30 minutes, right as the host called out to you, and he appeared in front of you half an hour later.

“Jesus,” you said sarcastically.

“Was pretty sure you abandoned me.”

He smiled at you, “No, just last minute details I needed to fix.”

You wanted to ask what details he was referring to, but the waiter approached your table to discuss specials.

*

It wasn’t until after dinner that you noticed him off. He kept fidgeting and finding an excuse to not go to the hotel.

“Do you want to see the park?” “Maybe there’s a fun event happening tonight.”

It has been a pretty long drive and a long day. What you really wanted to do was unwind for the day, shower, and wear cozy pajamas.

“No, maybe tomorrow, why don’t we go back?”

He looked nervous. Took a deep breath and agreed.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

*

You approached the hotel, rushed upstairs with him. Commenting on their choice of artwork.

Would you look at the rug? Gosh it makes me feel dizzy.

Look at this picture, it’s teal and the carpet is red!

He responded with small hums.

He opened the door for you, you ran inside the bathroom. You needed to wash away the sweat and grime of the day.

Once finished, you stepped outside, looking for your lotion and pj’s. You saw König sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees, rubbing his hands in circles.

“Are you washing your hands there?” You joked.

He said nothing. You kneeled toward your suitcase, got ready for bed in the bathroom.

“You okay there?” König kept fidgeting with his hands. Why did he seem ..Anxious? You approached him.

“Are you alright?”

He spoke softly, “There’s only one bed.”

“So?” Then it hit you.

Bed. (Singular)

One bed. (Sharing?)

König was sitting at the edge of ONE bed.

Maybe the universe had finally pushed aside the boundaries that König had been so fixated on. You had secretly said a small prayer —thank you so very much.

“Is that a problem?” You asked.

“No.” He was firm, but quickly added “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I didn’t plan this.”

You laughed. Only König would think because you shared one bed with one another it was malicious on his part.

“Would you stop it?” You shook your head and pulled him up towards the bed. You pulled back the sheets, nestled the pillows up around you. You pat down the side next to you and wiggled your eyebrows. He settled in. You settled yourself right next to him, a leg over his, an arm over him.

“This is okay. This is more than okay. This is the best..” you yawned

He was stiff. “… dove”

but as he peered down at you, seeing how relaxed you were, you closed your eyes against him, he then got comfortable with you.

“This is okay.” He says back. A confirmation. “The best.”

His heart warmed up with the thought of you being so comfortable, so at peace with him. You didn’t even think twice about sharing a bed with him and he did. Maybe he needed to shut off his brain when it came to you because this felt like home. This felt better than the couch.

He made a mental note of this moment.

It isn’t until weeks later that he confesses to you one night as you snuggle up next to him at his house —

“I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner…Sleeping next to you is easy.”

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Kieran x reader

A little something I was thinking of. Happy Valentine’s Day folks.

You’ve heard of the old rumor from Galar about giving an Applin to the one you have feelings for, and seeing as today was a very special day, you knew you just had to go for it, as there was a special someone you wanted to give an Applin to.

Since you arrived in Kitakami, you’ve become close to Kieran and his sister, Carmine, but more so with Kieran. Over time, you and him have gotten closer and closer, and you may or may not have developed a little crush on him. Carmine had figured it out, since she is his sister after all, and she’ll often tease you about your crush on her brother, which always flustered you to no end, so you’ll occasionally just try to brush it off or leave if it gets to be too much.

So when you remembered the rumor with the Applin, you just had to give one to Kieran! However, you wanted it to be a special one, one that he wouldn’t ever forget. So you had spent hours, and hours, days before this certain special day, before you had finally found it. Now it was time to give it to him.

“Kieran!” You called out to him as you approached him, waving to him with a smile on your face.

“Oh! Hey, Y/n.” He looked over as you walked up to him. “Did.. did you need something?” He tilts his head slightly in a curious manner.

“No, not at all! I was just wondering if you would like to hang out with me.”

“Oh, uh, sure, I don’t really have anything else to do… that I can think of anyway.”

“Great! Let’s go!” You grabbed his hand and the two of you were off! You two went to several places around Kitakami, including the loyalty plaza, the apple hills, and wherever else you could think of, just talking and enjoying each other’s company. Kieran would occasionally ask you how your Pokemon were doing, and what other plans you had in mind. You honestly weren’t too sure, really, but you answered his questions as best you could, as well as asking him questions as well.

“Have you ever wanted to travel to other regions, Kieran?” You looked over at him as you walked beside him, him tapping his chin in thought for a few moments before he shrugged in response.

“I.. have thought about it, but I don’t want to leave Carmine and my family.. but.. the idea of seeing other regions does sound like fun.”

“I see..” you smiled softly, nodding. “I know what you mean. I would love to travel to other regions, see all sorts of places and Pokemon!”

“Would you.. perhaps want to.. travel together?” Kieran asked you, playing with a piece of his hair, which you always thought was kind of cute.

“You… would want to travel together with me?”

“W..well, yeah, I would. We’re so close, and I wouldn’t want to travel with anyone else. I mean, yes, Carmine is my sister and all but… I just enjoy spending time with you more than her.” He shrugged in response.

“That.. really means a lot, thank you, Kieran.” You smiled faintly, then stopped suddenly, him stopping as well.

“Is something wrong, Y/n?” You shook your head, before reaching into your pocket. A pokeball. You take Kieran’s hand into your own, placing the pokeball into his hand.

“For you, Kieran.”

“For.. for me?” He seemed a little confused, yet intrigued. He then let the pokemon out of the pokeball. It was a beautiful shiny green Applin. Kieran’s eyes widened at the sight, gently picking it up.

“You.. you got them for me?” You nodded at this, hoping that he liked it.

“I love it, Y/n,” he smiled faintly, the Applin let out a happy cry as it rubbed its face against his cheek. “Oh! That reminds me, I have something for you, too.”

“Oh..?” Without a word, Kieran handed you a pokeball. “I, um, hope you like it.” You let out the pokemon from its pokeball, and in its place… was a shiny Applin. Yet this one was bigger than the one you gave Kieran, and it seemed a little timid, yet friendly.

“It seems we had the same idea, haha.” Kieran rubbed the back of his head.

“It seems that way.” You smiled faintly, holding his hand once more.

“I love you, Kieran.”

“I.. I love you too, Y/n.” He glanced away from you, and you noticed a faint blush on his face. You smiled softly and kissed his cheek softly, which caught him off guard, as his face turned a little more red.

“Th..thank you, Y/n. Come on, it’s getting late.” You nodded and the two of you started heading back towards his place, holding your shiny Applin in your arms.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! First of all I wanted to thank everyone who runs this blog, it's wonderfully helpful in a lot of ways, and it's nice to see so much information coming from direct sources all in one place. I have a lot of anxiety around accidentally harming people with my work, so finding such a wealth of references, opinions, resources, and discussion is very valuable to me. It gives me the confidence I need to move forward knowing that I won't get everything right, but I can avoid what I know to be harmful.

I do have a question, sorry for taking so long to get to it. I want to write a story featuring a physically disabled character from at least a semi-accurate historical lens (specifically 19th century England), but I don't want to rely on notoriously ableist doctor's accounts. That's potentially useful for understanding how the medical field understood various disabilities and the social attitudes surrounding them, but I want to know more about the day-to-day lives of actual disabled people before modern medicine/research, especially those who may not have had access to hospitals. My intent is this- I want to understand my character and her disability from a modern perspective, but within the time frame I know this character would not have access to the same information and so would approach her life differently than a person today with the same disabilities would. Do you know of any particular historians or research organizations that might have that kind of information? I apologize for the broad scope of the question, but I am very lost on where to actually start looking and any help would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for taking the time to read this ask, and for all the work you do in general, have a great day!

Hi,

Thank you for your thoughtful question.

I'll start of with the fact that disability history is painfully under-researched, particularly the further back in time you go.

Part of this is modern ableism, part of it is ableism from the past, part of this is scattered understanding of conditions in the past, part of it is that a decent number of disabilities need treatment for survival, and part of this is simply a lack of sources. There's other factors, of course, but these are all pretty relevant.

If I'm honest, I generally do my historical research in very sort of piecemeal ways and I get bits and pieces from various sources that I often lose years later, which I recommend to no one lol.

I usually end up reading scientific/historical modern articles that I go to like the third page of google to find, or try my best to find a period piece that will show me a sense of how a person with a certain condition could be treated,

However, let me point you towards some organizations that might help:

This is a page from Historic England that has a general history of disability from 1050 onwards. It's categorized in general time periods, starting with 11th-14th century and ending in the modern times. I like this resource and have used it often, and it's pretty accessible and easy to read since it's made for the general public as opposed to for researchers and historians. Historic England also has further Inclusive research, if you're interested.

The US's National Parks Service (unlikely source, I know) has a project named Telling All Americans' Stories, and has a section for disability history right here. It has a general overview, a section for places, a section for people, a section for education, and one for Franklin Delano Roosevelt's experience and impact re: polio and resulting disability. Of course, this source has more things connected to the national parks, given who is doing the research, but I still find it a pretty good source to start off with. It's also quite accessible since it's aimed at the general public and not historians or researchers.

The Minnesota State Government has a "Governor's Council on Developmental Disabilities," and this council has a general history of developmental disabilities resource right here. It's divided into pre-1950 and post-1950, but it covers a lot of ground while being pretty accessible. It's a pretty cool resource, actually. I'm pretty sure I've found relevant photographs here.

The Disability History Association was established in 2004 has a podcast and is focused on specificlly funding research of disabilities. They have a page right here with a list of recent books and articles about disability history. These are all 2016 to present and all seem to be English language. It also lists two upcoming research publications that are in progress. I haven't specifically used this for my research, but I recognize some of the articles it refers to on that second page I linked. It's entirely possible I've been on this site before without remembering, though.

All Of Us is a blog by the above DHA which seems to have multiple contributors. This one I have not used.

Inclusive Historian has a resource here on a sort of general disability history, and is aimed more towards historians themselves to use to write more effectively. I also see this as a potential tool for fiction writers, as it can be useful when it comes to combining historical accuracy (to whatever degree you want it in your fiction) with modern sensitivities for modern audiences.

Disability Social History project is a self-named newer project aiming to collect historical information about disability and disabled people. It has a resources page here as well.

The Missouri History Museum has a legacy website called Action for Access with a focus on the history of the disability rights movement. This is a narrower focus and earlier than the time period you're going to write about, but it has pictures to browse. I have not found a modern equivalent of this website. Be aware that this website might not fit accessibility standards more common today because it's a legacy website.

Anyway, sorry that this seems so broad and maybe less specific than you'd like — I still hope it helps you and anyone else needing a jumping off point to research.

– mod sparrow

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How Umemiya Hajime Loves | As Told By Tarot

cw. gn!reader, tarot, headcanons pairing. umemiya x reader notes. normally, i stop at 4 cards per character but i've been thinking about doing more lengthy, in-depth readings with multiple stacks lately. so i figured, why not give this a shot with my newest obsession? if you have any characters you want me to cover, let a girl know deck. prisma visions tarot & true black tarot

three of wands, the hanged man, two of wands, two of chalices

When Umemiya Hajime falls, he falls. There's no resisting the waves as it envelops his person; instead he allows himself to be full submerged. He allows you to see him for who he is, all that he has been and all he will be and you allow him to do the same. You're his person. Hajime loves everyone he calls family and treats them all kindly but even among them you are special. The moment you are someone he sees he has a future with, he works towards that future little by little through connecting with you and cultivating a love that will last indefinitely. He isn't the type to seek short-term relationships, Umemiya Hajime wants forever.

ten of pentacles, nine of chalices, the high priestess, seven of wands

It should also be no surprise that he wants a large family. How this family is ultimately is obtained is of little importance to him but he wants a family. Kid running through the house to wake you both up to watch whatever their favorite morning cartoon is, little fingers covered in pancake batter as his little helper valiantly helps him make breakfast, the whole nine yards. That future is a dream come true for him who has always wanted a family of his own. Of course he is aware it takes hard work to get to that future let alone maintain it, but he is prepared for that challenge. Hajime is someone who thrives in large groups but for him to really be happy, you have to be happy as well. He's great at reading you and piecing together what you want but he isn't a mind reader, tell him what you want and need and he'll always be happy to reach a compromise where you are both satisfied.

the emperor, three of pentacles, the lovers, two of pentacles

Rather than constantly go back and forth fixing a leak to push his town in the right direction, Hajime decided to rebuild the entire house and relay the foundation brick by brick. He approaches self-improvement and relationships in the same manner. Words aren't enough, you need action to back them up. His actions more than speak for themself. You know he loves you in the things he does grand and small. He goes above and beyond to make sure you never have to question how he feels. Hajime fights that much harder when something he loves is on the line. Love is the very source of his strength. A joyous feeling that cloaks the two of you in a freeing dance of self-expression and intimacy reserved solely for the two of you. Together the food tastes that much better, the drinks that much flavorful and the hues of the world that much more vibrant. He wants you to feel the same way when you're with him.

nine of cups, the hermit, ace of cups, two of cups

For Hajime, this love feels like a luxury. Both of your glasses will always be full, overflowing with wine that he has grown with grapes from his very own garden. His pockets may not be overflowing in gold but if one could be paid in emotional wealth, Hajime is richer than the greatest king. It has taken much introspection to become the man he become today. A lot of pain he has had to overcome. Yet despite that pain, like how the scarred dove continues to fly so does Umemiya Hajime. His love continues to flow and pour onto the garden that is his relationship with you, carefully cultivating a living mosaic that encompasses your relationship. War and disruption does not exist in this man, thus it does not exist in your relationship. There is only peace and harmony bathed in a soft glow. Yours is a relationship that continues this soft dance for as long as time allows.

[igotanidea]

Let's fuck up the friendship : J.T x fem!reader

how cute is that picture? UwU

request by @parkjammys (once again, thank you for making my day by posting pics of Outlaws!Jason today)

based on the prompt: "sometimes i look at people and think.. really? that’s the sperm that won?” With best friend Jason feeling really jealous seeing his best friend that he has a major crush on, talk to some guy (guy is Kyle Rayner) and he's mumbling "he's not even her type"

***

„Why is he here again?” Jason scoffed, carefully observing his best friend Y/N, talking to that stupid prick of a green lantern, Kyle Rayner.

“Dunno.” Dick, still in his Nightwing suit shrugged casually, while stuffing his mouth with cereals ‘probably something to do with the newest mission on Earth or something like that.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Jason hissed, involuntarily clenching his fist. “that he just drops by whenever he wants?”

“No, not really.” Dick swallowed particularly huge piece of his meal and focused on his brother’s face. “does it bother you?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jason and Kyle weren’t exactly friends, but the former never reacted with such…. intensity. All right, most of the times the green lantern showed himself around Jason was throwing offences left and right, showing his teeth and acting like he was marking territory. Kyle, however did exactly the same thing. It was sort of tradition at this point. But all that teasing, fake fighting and extreme emotions never escalated so quickly to the point where Jason was all red (and not because of the helmet or the gear), grinding his teeth and subconsciously reaching for his gun while his eyes were fixed on one place in space. Or rather, one person.

Y/N.

She was talking to Kyle, laughing at whatever he just said, her eyes sparkling, looking happy like never before. And what was even worse she just hit his chest playfully. SHE TOUCHED HIM for fuck’s sake and that fucker really seemed to enjoy that.  On the other side, Jay did not like it at all. How could he? He had a massive crush on her since he could remember and yet, despite all his cool demeanor, harsh behavior and bad boy outlook, he was too self-conscious to ever confront her about it. Stupid, longing idiot, afraid of his own feelings. To tell the truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the possibility of her pushing him away or rather the fact that by some miracle she might want him. He was not good in relationships, any of them, and that made his mind create crazy scenarios in which she was hurt or killed or sad or crying because of him.

But sure as hell he was not going to let Rayner get to her first!

She was just …. something different.

The girl who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything else. The girl who would stand by you, listening to every rant and problem you may have, but also the one who would turn and run the second she got vulnerable. It was so damn hard, to get her to open up, since on 9 out of 10 cases she would just jump into helping someone else or dig into work.  

And she was his best friend.

What kind of fool falls for his best friend?

It was stupid and childish and naïve and yet, all he wanted and needed was to just approach her that very second, interrupt her happy conversation and use one sentence that would either make her hate him and disappear for good or get them both to a whole new level of relationship.

“Let’s fuck up the friendship.” God, how he wished he had the guts to just get it out of his system.

Instead he settled on watching her from the distance, not rushing to make a fool out of himself in front of both Dickhead and that freaking Rayner.

“Jace?” Dick interrupted his train of thought, smirking under his nose.

“What?!”

“Is this about her?”

“What? NO. Fuck no. She’s just my friend. My best friend.”

“Yeah, right, friends don’t look at friends that way.”

“Whatever!” Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest sulking for a moment and sighing deeply. ‘I hate the way she’s smiling at him.” He mumbled “and she’s not even trying to hide it….” He pouted like a completely immature 5 year old.

“She’s an astrophysicist, Jason.” Dick patted his arm reassuringly “ You can’t blame her for being enthralled by all that crazy space-shit stuff he’s saying.”

“I don’t blame her.” Jason hissed “I blame him, you know? Do you ever just look at people and think: really? That’s the sperm that won?”

“No…..” Dick made a face in confusion. Damn it, if that were the thoughts coming into Jason’s mindthan it really was bad.

“Well, I do. And he’s the living proof of that.”

“Jason…..”

“He’s not even her type…” Todd muttered under his breath.

“And what exactly is her type?” Dick smirked again “Tall, dark haired, well-build douche? If you care about her …..”

“I don’t fucking care about her!” he yelled.

Too loud.

Whoopsy.

Not a chance she didn’t hear that, and the sudden outburst made her turn her head towards him. Shit, if he was red before, now he was simply crimson. Jason found himself between the devil and the deep blue see. Should he clear this little misunderstanding? Should he come clean? Or should he just run away leaving the ground burning?

“Jace?” she stuttered, her eyes growing wide, while Kyle took the chance and wrapped and arm around her shoulders protectively to give her some grounding “Is this about me?”

“Good luck, clearing that out, Jaybrid” Dick laughed, but hid it by pretending to sneeze.

“Shut up, Grayson!” Jason hissed through clenched teeth and slowly approached the girl and Kyle. “It was not about you. It was about some girl Grayson met and about whom he couldn’t shut up. You are my best friend, you know it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, right, best friend’ she mumbled looking down, moving slightly closer to Rayner and away from Jason. Oh, that was like a slap on the cheek. Like a sting right through his heart. Like a….

Was it disappointment in her eyes?

No, it couldn’t be…. Why would she be disappointed?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, Rayner” Jason used the unimaginable amount of power to control himself “I would love to rescue my best friend from your hand. I bet whatever you say about space must be out of this world, but there are people who actually need her on Earth. On daily basis. Not just while dropping from time to time and leaving her hanging.”

“Oh, Todd.” Kyle cooed “aren’t you just so cute while trying to act like a knight in shining armor. But guess what, she doesn’t need your protection.”

“Right. The only one who’s going to need protection is you. From me.” Jason leaned forward eyeing the other boy with predatory gaze ‘I know what you are plotting, Rayner. And if you think I’m going to let you use her….”

“Is someone jealous?” Kyle scoffed “cause sure it seems you treat me like a threat.”

“Why don’t we take it outside so I can show you how much I am not scared of you. Maybe this time you will deal with someone equal to you rather than seducing girls with your fake charm!” Jason jumped to his feet, Kyle following right after and the tension was so palpable that most likely they wouldn’t even wait to go outside, just beat the shit of each other right inside.

“ENOUGH!” sudden scream coming from Y/N made them both gasp in surprise. Neither Jason nor Kyle has even seen her this angry. She was practically fuming and it was terrifying to see this normally calm, communicative and focused-on-peaceful-solutions-to-problems girl in such state. And it was them who pushed her to this point. She was not a meta or any other kind of superhero but at that moment she held the power of the hurricane and was about to throw it at them.

Shit.

“Y/N…” Jason raised his hands and tried to calm her down.

“Shut up, Jason!”

“ You heard the girl, shut up, Jason” Kyle laughed viciously

“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU RAYNER!”

“I’m sorry….” He whimpered and it was Jason’s turn to laugh.

“I am TIRED of being your toy. Exhausted to be precise. I’ve been making doe eyes at you, Todd for months now. Doe eyes that you chose to ignore every. single. fucking. time. And yet, the moment I move on from this silly, stupid, fucking, one-sided crush you decide to step it and ruin everything. Just because you wanted to? Just because you what? You get jealous now? Fuck, Jason, do you really think you can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring about the others? Not caring what I have to say? Oh, hell no. You don’t hold such power over me. Not anymore.”

“Y/N….” Jason took a step forward, but she jumped away, almost like he was a disease she didn’t want to catch.

“Get away from me!” she hissed “We were just talking, you idiot! I was being nice, not that you know what it means! I’m done with both of you!”

“Wait, what did I do?” Kyle asked, now a bit confused

“Oh, nothing, sweetie.” Y/N mocked “just telling me the shit of improbable stories to make Jason angry while watching me laugh with you. Yeah, I noticed that.” She cut Jason off the moment he opened his mouth to say a thing in his defense “Well, genius, I was laughing at you, wondering when will you finally realize that I did my research and don’t believe a word you say. Are you familiar with the word sarcasm?”

“Haha! Burn!” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh

“And you, Todd, should  learn the meaning of the word honest. You are both losers. I want nothing to do with you. I’m out.”

And so she left. The only sound they heard after that was slamming of the door to her room. She had one at the Manor since her expert knowledge was sometimes needed and she was helping the bats while patrolling at night.

And then chewing on the cereals.

“Well that was quite the show….”

“SHUT UP GRAYSON!”

***

“Y/N? Please, open the door. I just wanna talk.”  Jason was knocking at her door for like 10 minutes now and yet, she didn’t bother answering and he started losing all hope.  Did he fuck up? Was all the chances he had with her gone just because he was a stupid idiot In love and therefore acting like crazy?

“She’s not there, you know.”  Tim emerged from his room, bothered by all the knocking and begging.

“What? then where is she?”

“Hm…. Not sure if I should tell you after everything that just went down…..”

“How do you….? Fuck, whatever. I swear if you don’t tell me where she hid I would burn all the coffee shops in the tristate area!”

“I equipped them all with the fireproof furniture and equipment a while ago. Had a feeling that sooner or later you will threaten me with the lack of coffee….Listen to me carefully, replacement…” Jason took a step forward, towering over Tim’s figure but before he could take any action, another voice joined the conversation.

“Boys. Why do you always have to act like savages? Y/N escaped to the roof. Guess she was in need of some air after that little outburst.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

“Always a pleasure. “ she winked “Oh, and Todd? Make sure to fix it. I really don’t like this Rayner guy, either.”

***

“Was it Steph? I know it was her.” Jason could only do as much as step into the rooftop when Y/N felt his presence. Apparently the time with bats sharpened her senses.

“Y/n. I just want to talk.”

“Ok. Sit. Talk. I’m listening.” She patted the spot next to her and Jason took it without any hesitation. She was willing to listen, maybe not everything was lost.

“I’m sorry” he sighed deeply and that made her turn her head and look straight into his eyes just to confirm if he actually did say the words she heard coming from him

“Wow! That would be the first time I ever heard you say a thing like that!” she laughed

“I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was playing around with you or anything like this. It’s just…. just…..”

“What, Jace? Come on, just say it. Just be honest with me. I won’t laugh or judge you, I promise.”

“I had a crush on you.”

“Had?”

“All right, I still do!” he threw his hands in the air “Are you trying to humiliate me now?”

“For how long?” she asked looking at the space in front of her, not meeting his eyes and missing the fact that he was eyeing her with love sick puppy eyes, begging whatever deity was there that she would let him love her. Despite everything. He would put all the work in proving to her that he could be better. For her. For them. And if that required honesty – so be it.

“A year.” He muttered, almost inaudibly.

“A year?!” she cried “seriously, Jason! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“How was I supposed to tell you?! I didn’t know if you were feeling the same way! I couldn’t risk scaring you off. I couldn’t risk…. Losing you. ”

“You didn’t notice all those times when I was making a fool out of myself just to get your attention? I mean really, doe eyes?”

“I’m…. I’m not good with all that flirting and teasing and relationship stuff. I … I don’t recognize it well. Besides, you are my best friend and ….”

“And what?” she moved her whole body, so now she was not only facing him, but her whole figure was turned towards him “Just say it. Please.” She begged, looking straight into his eyes, not faltering for even a second. “Say it, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I wanna fuck up the friendship.” He gasped, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. But once he started he just couldn’t stop the flow “I want to love you. I want to have you to myself. I want to be yours. I want to be able to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to make you mine. If you let a fool like me…..“

“And it’s not just because of Kyle?”

“Fuck no! I don’t give a single damn about him! I care about you, Y/N. In a more-than-friends way. I’m done pretending. ” he whispered looking down, his cheeks a bit reddened. Not a long though since she cupped his cheek and made him look at her.  “Please, be mine”he whimpered

“Jason, can you promise me you won’t act like a male ego embodied again?”

“I can’t.” he shook his head in resignation “I can’t cause I care too much and can’t help getting possessive sometimes and…..” She didn’t let him finish leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. This took him a bit by surprise, since he thought she was going to ditch him for not being able to promise her what she needed. And instead, she was kissing him?

Damn it, not just kissing, that was clearly an understatement. She was laying all her love on him. Those sweet, soft lips he was dreaming about for so long were on his, brushing over his gently and yet with so much passion he was practically melting. He wanted more and yet, all that tenderness and intimacy of sharing first kiss in the privacy of nighted rooftop was something to enjoy rather than to destroy by any urgency.

And so, even if still confused, he followed her lead, choosing delicacy and softness. Maybe it was what they both needed and enough to get him high and drunk on the feeling of her. He could feel her with every cell in his body. Her touches, her smell, her affection for him. All of it combined.

He barely held back a whine when she pulled back.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he whispered, his hands aching to touch her and hold her to his chest, but holding back because he needed her direct answer. “For acting like a dumbass?”

“You had me at I wanna fuck up the friendship” she laughed lightly, changing position and settling between his legs, not fighting or running away.  

“You have no idea how long I wanted to say it.” He answered, wrapping arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her neck softly, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo “So long, baby… so fucking long…..”

“Glad you choose the moment when I was forgiving and merciful” she chuckled “’because you know, it could have backfired on you.”

“But you’re not leaving?” his grip on her tightened in a sudden fright this was all just a crazy dream and in a minute he would wake up in his own bed, alone and cold, still yearning for her, none of those words from before said in real life.

“No.” she put her soft hands on his biceps, caressing his skin and all those scars reassuringly “I made up my mind, Jason. It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m done pretending too.“ she turned her head and hid face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over his skin. “I love you.”

In the darkness of the roof, with almost no stars on the sky and with her eyes closed,  she didn’t notice few tears that gathered in Jason’s eyes and flowing down his cheeks.

He had her.

He finally had her.

And he was not going to let go.

[vividiana]

come along with me (and put your mind at ease)

pairing: Astarion x f!Dark Urge

rating: M for canon-typical Durge thoughts, mild gore, and sexually suggestive language

word count: 11k

summary: flirting seems hard enough even without a voice in your head urging you to eviscerate anyone who gets too close. so when Astarion approaches Eve with a proposition, she's... a bit frazzled, to say the least. but despite what she promises herself, she can’t seem to stay away from him.

a/n: hi! I usually only post on ao3, but a couple of you seemed to really enjoy the wip snippets I've been sharing of this piece, so I decided to post it on tumblr as well. hope you enjoy!

the title is from "a little less conversation" by elvis presley

read on ao3

________________

Alright, perhaps they didn’t have to kill Gandrel. How much of a threat was a monster hunter who couldn’t even recognize his own prey? He was clearly clueless, so they could have just left him to stumble around in that desolate bog, and they might have never crossed paths again.

But Eve recalls vividly the sinking feeling that gripped at her heart the moment the man revealed his intentions, how she feared for Astarion’s safety, how enraged she was by the mere thought that someone was setting out to hurt him. Surely, she would have reacted the same way if this concerned any of her other companions… She had simply started to grow protective over her group. That’s all there was to it. 

And who knows—if Astarion’s suspicions were correct and if the man really was sent out by his former master, then surely it was better to err on the side of caution (and violence.) Perhaps Gandrel recognized Astarion when he saw him, but realized he had lost the element of surprise and was outnumbered. Perhaps instead of attacking right there and then, he decided to track them later and capture Astarion under the veil of night. 

Of course none of these considerations occurred to her at the moment, but they did help Eve justify her decision later. Even with all the mental acrobatics involved, that was still easier than admitting to herself that perhaps she was starting to care about Astarion more than she would like to.

It’s been two days since that encounter and two things have been bothering her ever since. First, Astarion had grown strangely quiet, which was quite alarming. He of course still delighted the group with a snarky quip and a healthy dose of complaining every now and then, but most of the time, he seemed absent and lost in thought. He also seemed to be staring at her a lot, though perhaps that was just Eve seeing what she wanted to see.

The second thing, far more unnerving, is that the murderous voice in her mind has been particularly active, very pleased with the Gur blood she spilled. Her head has been pounding, far worse than usual, and overall she’s been… well, a mess.

And it is while Eve is in that disheveled state that Astarion decides to approach her and start perhaps their most bizarre conversation as of yet.

Eve is crouched by a hyena’s corpse, working to cut off both of its ears—which, as Gale reminded her earlier today, were quite valuable alchemical ingredients. As she slices through the animal’s flesh with her hunting knife, the voice in her head won’t shut up about how beautiful the whole bloody image is.

“There you are.”

Astarion’s voice comes from right behind her, and Eve jumps, the clean cut she was working on now jagged. 

Child’s work. The voice reprimands her. You can do better than that. 

Astarion crouches beside her, strangely close, then puts his hand on hers, the one gripping at the knife. The sensation sends a shiver down her spine and Eve realizes that this is the first time he’s ever touched her outside of drinking her blood or being caught in the whirlwind of battle (and that one time he ambushed her, of course.) She stares at his hand on hers, dazed by the novelty of it.

“May I?” 

Eve nods, letting go of the knife and watches him take over and cut off the remaining parts with one skilled flick of his wrist.

“There you go.” He hands her the ear and she stashes it away into her alchemical pouch. 

They both rise to their feet and look around this stretch of the Risen Road, scattered with corpses and wrecked carriages with lost merchandise. Wyll and Karlach are still nowhere to be found—the two decided to scope out the path to the northwest as Eve and Astarion stayed behind to loot whatever they deemed useful.

But Astarion doesn’t seem to be in a rush to return to his task, instead looking at her with a strange intensity, as if pondering something.

“You’ve been quiet,” Eve notes as she picks some pieces of gnoll entrails off her clothing. “It’s unlike you.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” She stops and looks up at him, realizing how close he is standing.

His lips curl up into that annoyingly delightful smirk when he says:

“About you. About the time we’ve spent together, the moments we shared… And I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours.”

The sudden shift in tone takes her aback at first, but Eve can’t deny that she isn’t captivated by the way his voice lowers, eyes narrowing dangerously as they glide down her body before meeting her gaze again.

“I’m growing to like the whole package, honestly,” he continues. “And you clearly like me too, so…” 

“So…?” Heat kindles just below her skin, and Eve curses herself for blushing so easily.

“So, I think it might be time to turn some fantasies into reality—we’ve been waiting long enough.”

As if activated by a keyword, the voice in her mind returns, dripping with excitement and bloodlust as it echoes in her mind:

Yes. Don’t keep your beautiful fantasies to yourself. The world needs to see what you’re capable of. 

“Oh. Um. What– what do you mean?” Eve asks, partly to stall so she can collect her thoughts, partly because all of this seems too absurd to actually be happening.

“Oh, don’t be coy,” Astarion drawls and leans in to whisper directly into her ear: “Your body has already given you away.”

He knows. He knows about the twisted, bloodied visions birthed by your brilliant mind.

“Umm.” Eve swallows hard, warmth blossoming in her chest at his proximity, at the way his voice vibrates on her skin. “Has it?”

“Oh yes,” Astarion chuckles as he leans away, now reaching out to trace a finger down the column of her throat. “I could feel it when I was getting lost in your neck. Your little… shakes of excitement. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

How excitingly he would shake beneath you once you wrap your hands around that pretty pallid neck. How sweetly he would scream.

Eve chuckles nervously, taking half a step away, not sure what to do with her eyes. 

“Oh, I think that’s just… one of the symptoms of blood loss, you know?”

“Mhm…” Astarion steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “So you’re telling me that all those nights I’ve held your squirming body, pressed my lips to your flushed skin… Not once did you wish for something… more? Because I certainly did.”

Yes. Yes. Something more. Something filthier. Something more vile.

Eve just stares at him, trapped between his words and the incessant, pestering thoughts. 

Astarion seems to lose his patience, dropping his seductive cadence for a moment when he says:

“I do mean sex, to be clear. Are you familiar with the concept? Or is that another thing you’ve forgotten about?”

At that, the voice in her head finally falls silent and Eve is left with the intensity of Astarion’s stare and the warmth rising up to her cheeks.

“Sex,” she repeats blankly. “With me?”

The moment the question leaves her mouth, she mentally rolls her eyes at herself. Fuck, why am I like this? 

Astarion blinks, his mouth slightly agape. 

“No,” he says, visibly exasperated. “I’m just practicing my seductive spiel on you before asking out our resident gith.”

Eve finds herself smiling involuntarily now that her mind has quieted down, and Astarion’s snarky self has returned.

“I applaud your courage, then. Let me know how that works out for you.”

“Thank you,” he says with a chuckle. “Honestly, I can’t say that the thought has never crossed my mind. I think I would either end up murdered or have the best sex of my life, there’s really no in-between with that woman– Nevermind.” 

Astarion drops the subject with a shake of his head. He presses his fingers together and closes his eyes for a second, as if praying for patience. Finally, he opens his eyes and continues, gesturing animatedly between them: 

“Let me put this as plainly as I can. I like you. I have reasons to believe you like me. Come tomorrow, we might be dead or sprouting tentacles. Might as well… indulge a little, while we can.”

Eve stares at him for a second, not fully believing that this is happening.

“And you chose to tell me all of this over a dead hyena while we’re both covered in its blood?”

Astarion looks down at the corpse by their feet and clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Well, yes, perhaps the scenery is… subpar. But I think you underestimate how enticing you look when you kick and punch your way through a horde of gnolls twice your size. Plus, red is your color,” he adds with a smirk.

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughs.

“Perhaps I am. But I also have impeccable taste, so don’t question it.”

To be honest, Eve gets it. She can’t deny the fact that witnessing him in battle also does something to her—how he blends into the shadows and takes down enemy after enemy with arrows that seemingly come from nowhere. How he flips his dagger before striking, in a way that clearly offers no practical benefit but rather, an opportunity to show off his dexterity. Her appreciation for his stealth and finesse is entirely benign of course, just like one’s appreciation for fine art or craftsmanship, and it is definitely not distracting, and it certainly does not leave her wondering what else he can do with those–

“Now,” Astarion continues, mercifully snapping Eve out of her thoughts that have only served to deepen the pink shade of her cheeks, “if you have any doubts about my prowess, I assure you, you needn’t worry. I will make it worth your time. Satisfaction guaranteed, as they say.”

Eve scoffs, attempting to play it cool, a task which is somewhat complicated by her now obvious blushing. 

“You seem very confident in your abilities. I can’t say I’m not curious.”

“Oh, the confidence is warranted, trust me. You’ve… trusted me before, haven’t you? Have I given you a reason to regret it?"

Eve smiles weakly as she thinks back to the night he first asked to feed on her.

Could you trust me… a little further?

Her mind remains blissfully silent and she can actually, properly think about this. She knows Astarion is right—they could be dead tomorrow. And she can’t lie to herself that she hasn’t felt strangely drawn to him, wondering what it might feel like to–

The words spill from her lips before she can think of a reason to say no.

“I trust you. Come find me tonight.”

“Excellent,” he drawls, the edge of his lips curled up.

“And just so you know, you have set the expectations unreasonably high,” she laughs.

“Good. I don’t think your standards will ever be the same again. I’m afraid you will find any future lover an utter disappointment.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“OI!” Karlach’s voice echoes off the rocky ravine and they both turn to see her and Wyll waving at them from a distance. “Stop flirting and get over here! We have a shit show on our hands.”

“Ugh. Let’s hope it’s not another poor wretch that needs saving,” Astarion groans as they collect their belongings and start to head over.

But his hopes are shattered the moment they catch up to the rest of the group and notice a building in the distance, a thick column of smoke rising from its red tile roof.

“Come on, let’s get cracking!” Karlach orders as she starts heading in the direction of whatever misfortune has befallen the area.

“And this is our problem how, exactly?” Astarion scoffs, dragging behind.

“Astarion, if you are so allergic to altruism, perhaps you would rather go back to camp and help Gale with dinner?” Wyll asks sweetly.

Astarion just rolls his eyes in lieu of a response.

“Fire means dead bodies,” Eve says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Dead bodies mean loot. Does that help?”

At the mention of loot, Astarion’s ears perk up and he dons his signature smirk.

“Now, there’s an idea. I do love the way your mind works.”

“That makes one of us,” Eve mutters under her breath as she turns to follow Karlach.

The next hour passes in a blur of smoke and revelations. The woman they rescue from the burning inn seems to be someone important and she knows Wyll and his father, who was apparently captured by the drow and goblins who wreaked havoc in this place.

Ulder Ravengard. The name should mean something to Eve, as it does to the others. But instead, her mind is blank and she is once again reminded of how little she remembers of this world.

What matters is you know which arteries to slice. Nobility or not, they all bleed the same.

As Karlach and Astarion flood Wyll with questions about his upbringing, Eve detaches herself from the group and crouches beside one of the dead drow aggressors. She retrieves the skull-adorned amulet from her pack in hopes that she might get some information out of the corpse about the Duke’s whereabouts. Ready to cast the spell, she assesses the drow’s face, frozen in a final expression of horror, his long white hair stained with crimson–

Before she can utter the incantation, she is hit with a vision of Astarion’s face instead of the drow’s, his silvery locks covered in blood. Blood that she spilled. His eyes are two open wounds, his chest and stomach massacred in a repulsive recreation of what she did to Alfira. 

Eve doesn’t register her mouth stretching into a wide grin as a wretched thought sprouts from the wasteland of her mind:

You can make it happen. He would be the prettiest corpse you’ve ever had.

She straightens up suddenly, the gory vision slipping away, leaving behind naught but the drow’s cold body. Her chest tightens as the words echo in her mind, petrifying, nauseating. What in the Hells does that me– 

Eve shakes her head. Given the few glimpses she’s caught of her past, she figures that some questions are better left unanswered.

But the voice is incessant as it whispers:

Trust your instincts. It’s time to stop giving him your precious blood and spill his instead.

Shards of ice splinter in her stomach, her vision blurry as she turns the words in her mind over and over and—

Eve jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Apologies,” Wyll says, a hint of concern in his eyes when she turns to face him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. We should start heading back now if we want to make it to camp before dusk falls... Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” she replies a touch too hastily to sound genuine. She grabs her pack off the ground and swings it over one arm, nodding decidedly. “Let’s go.”

Eve turns and starts heading for the gate, every lively step helping to ease the tightness in her chest, if only slightly.

She doesn’t get far before Astarion catches up to her.

“My, my, why the rush?” he drawls, walking beside her. “You seem awfully eager to return to camp. Do you have any plans for the evening you’d hate to miss?”

Gods damn it, not now.

“I’m not feeling well,” she blurts out, picking up the pace.

Astarion makes a curious noise but doesn’t press the matter. 

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Karlach gets bored and starts questioning Astarion about the logistics of the “invitation only” rule for vampires entering private property, presenting him with increasingly specific hypotheticals.

“Say if I’m renting—would you need an invitation from me or my landlord?” 

Much to Eve’s relief, this line of questioning keeps Astarion occupied and away from her. Not to mention that it offers a much needed distraction from the mess of her mind.

“If you wanted to go into a stable, would you need to talk to the horse or the horse’s owner? It’s the horse’s house after all, isn’t it?”

When they finally make it to camp, they convene for dinner as Wyll catches the rest of the group up on all of today’s revelations. As they’re finishing up, Eve makes some poorly-veiled excuse and heads to her tent much earlier than usual.

Once inside, she buries her face in her hands and closes her eyes for just a moment–

The second she does that, the bloody visions flash before her, ever so vivid, and she groans in frustration as she opens her eyes. 

She fetches the first book she can find and tries to occupy herself with it, but the words on the page melt into an incomprehensible mass of ink. It might as well be written in Celestial, for all she knows.

Eventually she tosses the tome aside and stares at the ceiling, failing to calm her racing heart.

She listens as the conversations outside slowly die down.

In the sole company of darkness and her fractured mind, Eve decides she can’t trust herself enough to go through with it. Being alone with Astarion away from everyone… It’s simply too risky.

If he comes to her first, she might not have the volition to decline him. She needs to tell him now, lest she gets any second thoughts with potentially lethal consequences.

It can’t happen. 

Not for her.

With a heavy heart, she gets up and tries to remind herself that this is the right thing to do, all while wishing that she didn’t have to worry about what is right, but rather just what feels right.

As soon as she exits the tent, she bumps right into Astarion and loses her balance. 

His hands immediately grasp at her waist to steady her, and she prays he did not notice how her heart skipped a beat at the contact. Though who is she kidding? He has supernatural senses and her chest is pressed up right against his. Gods, he really is so close, close enough for the sunny hints of bergamot to hit her nostrils, close enough to see the laugh lines around his lips and eyes despite the dim light–

“Not wasting any time, are we?” Astarion asks, his mouth curling up. 

Focus.

Against every nerve in her body, Eve takes a step back, her skin already mourning the loss of his touch. She clears her throat, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.

“Hi,” she blurts out.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion says, clearly amused by her nervousness.

“How are you doing?”

“Is this your idea of foreplay?” he chuckles. “Trust me, there are more exciting ways to spend our time than exchanging pleasantries. On that note: I’ve found a lovely little spot out in the woods—perfect for two people who would like to… indulge in one another.”

There it is again: that sultry tone that makes her feel like he is undressing her with his voice alone. She wants nothing more than to take his hand and follow him, but instead she shifts uneasily, remembering her decision.

“Right, umm… about that. I… I don’t think we should do that, actually.”

Astarion suddenly drops all pretense, sounding genuinely dumbfounded when he says:

“Excuse me?!” He shakes his head and manages to compose himself slightly. “Well, this is a first. Are you feeling okay?” He presses his cool palm against her forehead as if checking for a fever. “Is this early ceremorphosis or have you finally lost your mind?” 

“I’m fine,” she says, swatting his hand away. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, given…” 

But the words catch in her throat when she realizes she isn’t ready to explain it all to him yet. Astarion looks at her inquisitively, and Eve sighs, before finally deciding:

“Look, it’s not because of anything you did. I meant what I said earlier today, I just– Can you please not take it personally?”

Astarion seems to have regained his footing because he leans in and says in that familiar, low tone:

“Listen, you don’t have to explain yourself. It’s your loss after all. Just so you know, you will come crawling back and I will greatly enjoy watching you when you do.”

Eve lets out a frustrated groan and says:

“Fine. Just. Are we…” She clears her throat and continues in a softer voice: “Are we okay?” 

Astarion’s eyes widen and he gestures vaguely around them.

“Darling, we sleep on the ground and have mindflayer parasites in our heads. ‘Okay’ is probably the last word I would use to describe our circumstances.”

“Yes, thank you for the recap. I meant: are things okay between the two of us?” 

Astarion scoffs and Eve tenses at the sound, bemoaning the turn the evening has taken. 

“Why? Are you worried that I will resent you for not wanting to sleep with me? Is that the kind of person you take me to be?”

“No, I just–” She stutters, wishing she could just tell him the truth, but the words don’t come. “I don’t know.”

“Let me know once you do.”

And then it looks like he might say more, but instead, Astarion shakes his head and bids her goodnight before heading for his tent.

“Wait,” Eve blurts out and it makes him stop in his tracks, turning half-way to look at her. “You can still drink my blood if you would like. This doesn’t change anything.”

Astarion seems to consider this for a moment, his expression indecipherable in the dim firelight. His tone is detached when he finally responds:

“That’s sweet. But I’m not really hungry.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she insists.

Astarion chuckles dryly before continuing the walk towards his tent.

“That we do. Goodnight, dear.”

Eve slumps as she stares at the fabric of the tent falling shut behind him, before the familiar, wicked voice snaps her out of it:

Missed opportunity. But there will be other ones.

The visions of Astarion’s mangled body come back to haunt her and Eve knows she won’t be able to fall asleep any time soon, so she heads to retrieve some logs to keep the campfire going. 

The voice eventually quiets down, but as Eve keeps watch, she tries and fails to push away thoughts of a much different nature—of the arms that would have held her, of how soft his hair would have felt under her touch. 

But her broken mind seems to have a different definition of carnal pleasures, and Eve resigns herself to a solitary night of wondering what could have been, had there not been something deeply, fundamentally wrong with her. 

Over the next couple of days, Eve’s mind had blissfully quieted down and she began to wonder, rather selfishly, whether what she denied herself might actually be possible. It was foolish, she knew, but be that as it may, there was not much she could do about the pull she was feeling towards Astarion, about the way her heartbeat quickened in his presence.

As she predicted, Astarion was unable to not take it personally and he suddenly seemed very cautious, as if he didn’t really know how to act around her. It’s like he couldn’t quite comprehend how she could be both attracted to him and choosing not to sleep with him, the elements of the puzzle not adding up to a cohesive whole.

Eve tried her best to act normal, or as normal as someone of her proclivities could reasonably be. She strove to show him that she still valued his company, that she meant it when she said her decision was not about anything he had done.

They were just two people who were both acutely aware of their mutual attraction and determined not to do anything about it. That seemed like the responsible thing to do. And definitely sustainable in the long run. Right?

And so they engaged in this awkward dance around each other, neither of them willing to bring up the obviously touchy subject. At some point, Eve had begun to lose hope that things would ever be the way they had been before.

Until one night when Astarion came to her with another proposition, albeit much more innocuous.

The camp is quiet save the distant chirp of crickets and the crackling of the fire. Everyone has retired to their tents, readying themselves for another day of chaos—everyone except for Eve, who, for the last two hours, has been fighting an unfair battle against her own hair, and she is done. She spent the better part of that time picking out pieces of goblin brain from it, and now, when it is washed and finally dry, she can still smell that heavy, metallic scent of blood. She snaps a twig off a nearby bush and is trying to get it to hold her hair up in a bun, when she hears a familiar voice.

“So this is what you do when you volunteer to keep watch? I feel safer already.”

“What?” She turns towards Astarion, hands in her hair, trying desperately to pin it in place. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Try to contain your excitement.”

“Sorry, I’m just–” she stops, pretty sure she finally got it right, but then her hair falls over her shoulders again. “Gods damn it!” She yanks the twig out and tosses it into the underbrush.

“This is quite painful to watch,”  he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Would you please let me help you?”

“What exactly do you mean by helping me?”

“Well, what exactly are you trying to achieve?”

“I just want my damn hair to not stick to my face all the time and not smell like goblin insides,” she huffs.

“Get up.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you please do me the honor of getting up?” he rephrases, his tone theatrically proper. He walks up and reaches his hand out to her, bowing.

Eve rolls her eyes, attempting to draw attention away from the flush in her cheeks as his cold hand closes around hers. Astarion helps her up and gestures towards the campfire.

“After you.”

She walks over, unsure of what to think, wondering if this is one of his little games, and trying to decide whether she would mind that. Astarion heads into his tent to grab a small ornamental rug, then places it in front of one of the logs by the campfire. 

“It’s not exactly luxurious, but I suppose this is the best we can do, given the circumstances.”

He sits on the log, looking at her expectantly.

“Well?”

Eve settles on the rug hesitantly, her back towards him. She suddenly becomes very aware of his legs on either side of her body and she finds this position oddly vulnerable, dreading the possibility of any of their companions getting out of their tents and seeing the two of them like this.

“I don’t see any goblin brains left. You did quite well on that front.” 

“Why, thank you.” 

Astarion gives her hair a hesitant stroke, then halts.

“Is this alright?” he asks and it catches her off-guard.

“Yes?”

“I would rather make sure,” he says, his tone surprisingly earnest. 

Why is this man, sometimes outright insufferable in his flirtatiousness, who manages to turn nearly everything into an innuendo, suddenly so careful about touching her? Eve considers asking him, but then bites her tongue and chalks it up to the recent shift in the energy between them.

Astarion clears his throat, sounding almost embarrassed, and continues to comb through her hair with his fingers, his movements gentle, almost caring. Eve fails to remember the last time anyone touched her like this.

“Hm.”

“What?” 

“So much wasted potential,” he sighs.

“Excuse me?” she asks, turning to face him.

“See, the color is fabulous and your hair has a nice thickness to it, but you choose to leave it at the mercy of the elements and then you’re surprised when it collects all sorts of grime. And it always seems to get in your face when you fight. It’s neither practical nor beautiful, but it could easily be both if you just showed it enough care.”

Eve can’t tell if she’s supposed to feel offended or flattered. She waits for the snide punchline, but it does not come. She shifts uneasily in her seat, trying not to think too much about Astarion staring at her hair mid-combat.

“Alright, so what do you suggest?”

“Well, I’ve always been partial to a braid or two. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You said it smelled of goblin brain?”

“I did.”

She hears Astarion shift in his seat and inhale deeply.

“Did you just sniff me?” she asks, her cheeks burning hot.

“Yes.”

“Um, okay. And?”

“It’s not that bad.”

She can’t help but laugh.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not great, but I have something that might help. Hold on.”

He gets up and heads into his tent. Eve’s gaze follows him there, eyes gliding over his form, and she smiles softly when she sees the points of his ears peeking out from the carefully orchestrated disarray of silver curls. Once he emerges from the tent, he meets her eyes and smirks. Her stomach flutters and she turns away, suddenly very focused on the fire.

Astarion returns to his seat behind her and places something on the ground. Eve turns to see a small, unmarked bottle and an ivory comb with intricate floral carvings on the handle. She picks up the comb, cool to the touch, and holds it up to the fire to admire the design.

“Where did you get this?”

“I snatched it from Kagha’s room.”

Eve turns towards him, wide-eyed.

“You did what? When?”

“Well, we’ve only been there once, haven’t we? So it must have been more or less when she was threatening that tiefling girl with a viper… Oh, don’t look at me like that! I knew you were going to handle it, I didn’t feel the need to get involved. So, I was just looking around and, while everyone was distracted with a child in mortal peril, I helped myself to this pretty little thing.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she says, shaking her head and turning back towards the fire.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Like a magpie, you just see a shiny thing and you can’t help yourself.”

“Again, thank you. I like to surround myself with beauty. It makes sleeping on the ground just a tad more bearable.”

“And what’s in the bottle?”

“A little concoction I crafted to hide my… condition. A mixture of bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy. The perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse. It can certainly help with the smell of goblin viscera, plus rosemary oil can do wonders to your hair. But enough talking.” He reaches for the comb. “Shall we?”

"Go ahead.”

He catches her hair mid-length and starts working on the ends with the comb. Despite the many knots she knows must be there, it seems that he tries his best not to snag at her hair, to cause her the least discomfort possible. Once he is done with the ends, he runs the comb through the whole length, massaging her scalp. They don’t speak and she focuses on the sensation, eyes fixed on the fire.  

Eventually, Astarion puts the comb away and reaches for the bottle. As the cork pops off, the familiar scent fills her nostrils. It is unmistakably his, the scent she first smelled that day after the nautiloid crash, when he put a dagger to her throat. He dabs a tiny bit onto his fingers and works it into her scalp, and she can’t help but think about the implications of her hair smelling like him. Would the other companions notice? Would Shadowheart smell it as she tended to Eve’s wounds after a battle? What would she make of it? She doubts anyone would be surprised, seeing as Astarion was so blatant in his efforts of seduction, so unabashedly convinced she would say yes. Admittedly, there is not much to gossip about at camp and she is almost certain people have already assumed that the two of them had slept together.

She decides that’s a problem for another time and she focuses on the feeling of his fingers against her scalp, gentle yet focused. She relishes the unfamiliar sensation of being cared for, pampered even, and she does not notice the moment her eyelids flutter shut, her head falling to the side to rest against his thigh.

“Are you about to start purring?”

Eve’s eyes snap open and she sits up, moving away from him hastily as if his touch burned.

“Sorry, I–”

“No need to apologize, dear, I tend to have that effect on people. Just try not to think about all the bliss these fingers could bring you.”

That familiar silky tone makes Eve’s stomach tighten, heat rising to her cheeks, and for a moment she considers letting her guard down, a flirty response forming at the tip of her tongue. But then she remembers why she said no to Astarion’s advances in the first place. 

Why this can never happen.

She contemplates getting up and leaving, cutting this short, but her legs don’t seem to follow as she remains seated in front of him. Though the pragmatic side of her is determined to decline him, the reckless, selfish part just wants to enjoy this. And truth be told, her pragmatic side rarely won these disputes.

This is harmless, she tells herself and almost believes it.

She scoffs, rolling her shoulders back, and Astarion takes it as an invitation to resume his work.

“You are aware that if you tell someone not to think about something, you make them think about it, right? Just so we’re clear.”

“Oh really?” he gasps, voice dripping with self-contentment. “How inconvenient for you then. I’m sorry dear, I had no idea”

“Of course you didn’t,” she says with a smile. “Your confidence is quite enviable, you know.”

“How so?” he asks, amused, as he reaches for the comb. 

“It seems you’re under the impression that anyone in their right mind would want to sleep with you the first chance they get.”

Astarion chuckles as he parts her hair down the middle and begins to braid one side.

“It’s not an impression, darling, it’s the truth. With centuries of experience to back it up.” 

His tone is light, but there is a tinge of bitterness to his words and Eve realizes that he’s not bragging—he’s admitting something he’d rather not be true.

“I see. Well, we have talked about this.”

“Oh, I know, and I respect your decision, however baffling it is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t… entertain the idea from time to time, hm?”

“Right.” She nods, warmth spreading down her chest to her stomach. “So, do you entertain that idea often?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he responds as he finishes the braid and ties it off, the ends brushing softly against Eve’s shoulders. He moves to the other side, gently tugging on her hair.

“It’s quite bold of you to call yourself a gentleman. Bold, or just delusional.”

“You hurt me, dear,” he gasps. “What did I ever do that made you think of me otherwise?”

“The list is quite long.”

“We have time.”

“For one, you snuck up on me in the middle of the night to bite me.”

“Touché. Not my proudest moment.”

“Not sure why you thought having teeth in my neck wouldn’t wake me up. But alright. Let’s see… you also ambushed me and threatened me with a dagger.”

“I did apologize for that one.” 

“Oh, and you also insisted on opening the door to that godsdamned barn and now that image will forever be burned into my memory.”

“Don’t pretend that wasn’t funny, though.”

“Yes, all of these encounters were quite exhilarating. It’s impossible to be bored when you’re around, I’ll give you that.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he responds, and suddenly Eve is not sure if it is an innocuous comment or a more earnest admission. His words settle heavily in the pit of her stomach, but before she can overthink them, Astarion ties off the braid and declares:

“I think we’re done.” 

Eve reaches up, her fingers tracing the weave of the braid, trying to decipher its shape. It feels taut, but not uncomfortably so.

“Look at me,” he says and she turns to face him. He assesses the hairstyle, cocking his head. “Come.” 

Eve follows him towards the outside of his tent, where an ornate mirror rests on top of a small table. He guides her to stand with her back towards it, then hands her a small mirror, the same one she saw him stare into just a few nights ago. An odd thought occurs to her and she voices it before catching herself:

“Why do you have so many mirrors lying about?” 

It’s an obvious question, but one she doubts has a simple answer. Eve assumes the others might see it as Astarion trying to uphold a certain image of himself, one of confidence and vanity, even if the mirrors are just useless props to him. But she knows it must mean more. 

There was an undeniable sense of longing to him that night when she saw him looking into the mirror, when he confessed to her that he did not recall what his face looked like before it grew fangs and his eyes turned red. He asked her to be his mirror then and it was one of the first times she felt she was actually seeing the real him. 

While she has never cared much about her reflection, she cannot imagine being unable to see it. As indifferent as she was about the face staring back at her, she did appreciate being able to confirm that she was still herself, that despite all of the chaos in her mind, there was a sense of physical continuity that grounded her. She reckons that not being able to do this would be hard for just about anyone, but perhaps especially for a man of Astarion’s background.

She has heard stories about high elves and their complicated self-care rituals, how they could spend hours tending to their appearance. On multiple evenings now, she has seen Astarion mend the elaborate embroidery on his clothes, something that the others might have deemed as vain and impractical, but that was so obviously important to him, so imperative to him remaining himself throughout all this madness. She wonders if that’s partially why he misses his reflection so much, how he can no longer see the result of all these efforts.

But of course, why would she expect a real answer?

“I like to intimidate my interlocutors,” he says, not skipping a beat, as if he had a practiced response at the ready. “Whoever approaches my tent must first be met with their own reflection, before seeing all this.” He gestures theatrically to his body. “It tends to bring people down a peg.” 

“Sure,” Eve says with a hesitant smile. She has come to accept that the scarce moments of Astarion’s genuineness never come up as requested, always catching her off guard instead. 

“In all honesty though,” he begins, and her stomach dips at the prospect of learning something real about him. “I have changed so much these past few tendays. I can walk in the sun, wade through rivers, enter homes uninvited…” he trails off, gaze fixed on something far beyond her. “I wonder if maybe one of these days, as I walk back to my tent, I might catch my reflection. Who knows what the tadpole has in store for me?” 

He chuckles at the end there, but it is a solemn sort of laugh, one that does not hide whatever longing is raking his undead heart.

Eve thinks about all he has lost. All he has gained. How the parasite, a source of great distress to their companions, has been nothing but liberating for him. They were so hell-bent on finding a cure, but who knows where that would leave him?

“Now, will you please admire my work?” he asks impatiently, tilting the mirror in her hand so she can see the back of her head.

It is neatly parted down the middle, two braids at either side finishing off in short ponytails. She touches it again, not sure if her hair was ever this contained, this deliberate.

“You should see it from the front,” he says, taking the small mirror away and guiding her towards the large one resting on the table.

Her reflection startles her. Eve is not sure when she last saw her face so clearly, not distorted in a river or puddle, all its imperfections clearly visible. She takes a step forward, taking in each and every one of her freckles, the scar running down the side of her face, the faint tattoo of a dagger lining her throat. 

There is something unsettling in her reflection, something bare and shameless. For a brief moment, she sees her lips twist into a grin, and it’s as if the part of her she had longed to keep hidden, the part that relished the feeling of the bard’s warm blood trickling down her arms, is staring straight at her. It lasts a mere moment and she can’t tell if she had imagined it or not.

“I–” she stutters, taking a step back. “My face seems so bare now,” is all she manages to say and it is not a lie as much as it is not the whole truth. “I’m not sure I like it that way.”

“Well, you’re objectively wrong,” he scoffs, and the closeness of his voice startles her. She glances back and sees Astarion standing right behind her, but in the mirror it’s just her reflection staring back. “But, if it makes you feel better, you could always do this.” 

He reaches his hand around her head and gently pulls out a strand of hair from each of the braids. Eve observes the reflection in silence, mesmerized as her hair seems to magically free itself, falling to frame her face. She likes the look of it—neat, but not too proper.

“That should help,” he continues. “But if it bothers you at any point, you could always tuck it behind your ear.”

Astarion hesitates for a moment, but then reaches out to do just that. It’s such a light touch, his fingertips grazing the shell of her ear for a mere second, but it still feels like an electric current sparking down her chest, lighting up every inch of her skin. 

It strikes her then that there is no getting over him. And as much as she tried to ignore her attraction to Astarion, it only seemed to intensify. 

“Like that.” His soft voice brings her back down to the Material Plane.

She turns to face him then, her chest tightening when she finds him standing closer than expected.

“Thank you, I– I appreciate this.”

“You are very welcome,” he says, taking a step back. “I prefer it when my allies can see whom they’re punching. Plus, it will make drinking from you that much easier, not having your hair stick to my face.”

“Sure, sure,” she chuckles. “Gods forbid you do a nice thing just for the sake of being nice.”

“Exactly, that doesn’t sound like me.”

“Well, thank you again.” And then, before she can do something foolish: “Goodnight, Astarion.” 

She turns and starts heading towards her tent.

“Eve–”

Her name sounds so odd coming from his mouth that she can’t tell if he has ever uttered it before, usually opting for some unfoundedly affectionate pet name instead. 

She stops and turns back to face him. Astarion opens his mouth and if Eve didn’t know any better she would swear it looked like he was about to tell her something important. But instead he clears his throat and says:

“Just try not to mess it up. It should hold for about two days if you don’t do anything too extreme. Goodnight.”

Astarion turns around and goes into his tent. Eve’s eyes follow his movement and a hint of disappointment sinks into her chest when he doesn’t turn to look at her again.

Two nights later, as Eve is distilling some potions of speed, Astarion approaches her, comb in hand.

“Darling, the state of your hair leaves a lot to be desired.”

She rolls her eyes and goes to sit in the same spot as last time, waiting for him to follow.

“You know, I could do this myself if you showed me how,” she says once he’s settled behind her. Not because she would actually prefer to do it herself, but because she is curious about his response. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“Ha! Fishing for compliments, are we now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eve replies, shifting uneasily in her seat. She’s not sure what response she was expecting, but certainly not this. 

“Oh, please. You’re waiting for me to tell you how much I enjoy your company, how I look forward to this brief shared moment with you, how the rush of ecstasy when my dagger stops a beating heart is nothing compared to the feel of your hair slipping through my fingers?” There it is: his theatrical cadence that she knows all too well. She bids farewell to the hope of any genuine revelation from him.

“That’s not what I–”

“I thought I made it abundantly clear that I am fond of your company. If you’re concerned that this is part of some ploy to bed you, rest assured that I can tell where I’m not wanted. Now, do you have any more asinine comments to make, or can I get to work?”

Eve tenses at his words. It’s not that he is not wanted. She considers telling him the truth about that night, revealing more than she ever has, but she decides it might not be the best moment. Instead, she just replies: 

“No, that’s all.” 

“Wonderful,” he replies, as his fingers start guiding the comb.

It becomes an odd sort of routine, but not an unwelcome one.

The tieflings sure know how to party. Whether it’s their general disposition or just the elation that comes with escaping the inescapable. The sheer joy of surviving another day when all the cards were dealt against you.

Either way, there is not a sober soul in sight. Eve is caught in a whirlwind of hugs, toasts, and dancing, and she is high on this victory, high on people calling her a hero—it’s not a word she would ever use for herself, but she doesn’t mind playing the part, indulging in the fantasy for one night.

Her mind is currently free of the insidious voice, and it feels like she finally proved it wrong. She can be good. She has a choice.

The alcohol is flowing, the music is captivating, and everyone’s inhibitions are lowering by the minute. Even Lae’zel, who initially ignored everyone and proceeded to sharpen her sword (be it out of duty or an attempt to drown out the music with the piercing sound of her grindstone,) was eventually convinced to join the festivities. A couple drinks in, she managed to drag Wyll onto the dancefloor despite his earlier sullen demeanor, and later challenged Halsin to an arm-wrestling match, which gathered quite the audience despite the current stalemate.

The only person who’s missing the frey is Astarion, who watches everyone from a distance, drinking wine by himself in front of his tent. Eve keeps feeling his eyes on her as she meanders through the crowd, realizing she doesn’t exactly mind it.

Quite the opposite, actually.

She is sitting at a makeshift table with Karlach, who pours them another round of beers and looks out onto the colorful crowd with a wide smile on her face.

“We did one Hell of a good job, mate.”

She goes to pat Eve on the back but stops midway, groaning in frustration as she takes her hand away.

“Fuck, sorry. I forget sometimes.” She runs her fingers through her hair and says: “Ahh, we are celebrating, I should be able to hug you all, I should be able to…”

“I’m sorry, Karlach,” Eve says, unsure of how to comfort her.

She takes another sip and watches as Karlach stares off into the middle distance, as if contemplating something. Eventually she turns to Eve and says:

“Do you think Gale could teach me how to cast Mage Hand before the night is over? You know, to help a girl out.”

Eve spits her drink out as she laughs, Karlach joining in.

“What? I’m serious!”

Eve clears her throat and wipes the beer off her chin.

“Oh I know you are and I totally get it. You should definitely ask him, even if just to see his reaction.”

“Oh my gods, I bet he would be so cute about it!” She straightens in her seat and dons a serious expression, lowering her voice to impersonate the wizard: “Why Karlach, I thought you’d never ask! May I inquire why the sudden interest in handling the Weave?” In her regular voice, she adds: “He would turn red in an instant, the poor bloke.” She sighs before taking another sip. “Well, at least one of us is getting some action tonight. Good for you, soldier.”

Eve stares at her blankly for a moment.

“What are you talking about?”

Karlach mirrors her gaze, looking genuinely dumbfounded by the question.

“That brooding prick over there!” she exclaims way too loudly as she points towards Astarion’s tent. “Who else? You two are not exactly subtle about it!”

Eve locks eyes with Astarion across camp and a flush blooms on her face the moment his lips turn up into that stupid, smug smirk.

“Gods damn it, stop yelling!” she pleads, shifting in her seat so she doesn’t have to look at him. In a hushed tone she adds: “We’re not sleeping together.”

“But–” Karlach’s eyes widen as she points to Eve’s neck. “But your neck is always bruised. You’re telling me he drinks your blood every night–”

“It’s not every night…”

“Eve, be for fucking real. It’s most nights.”

“Yeah, okay.” Eve shrugs, resigned. “It’s most nights.”

“And I’m supposed to believe nothing ever happens? I thought that was the whole point of the biting, that it was some weird fetish thing–”

“It’s not some weird fetish thing,” Eve insists, feeling her face grow even hotter. “It’s literally just food for him. There’s nothing sexual about it.”

But Karlach just throws her head back in laughter.

“Sounds like you’re in denial, babe. He is biting your neck, not your bloody elbow! That’s erotic as fuck.”

“Oh gods,” Eve sighs as she buries her face in her hands.

“So do you do it sitting up or lying down or what?”

“Well, the first time he sort of awkwardly hovered over me,” Eve says, gesturing vaguely. “But now usually I sit up and he sits behind me.”

“Oh, so he’s all up in there.”

“All up in where?!”

“Your space. You’re, like, pressed against each other and he’s biting your neck. And you’re telling me that’s not sexy? Snap out of it, mate.”

Eve takes a significant gulp of her drink so she doesn’t have to respond. But Karlach is relentless when she asks:

“So, what does it feel like?”

“Huh?”

“The bite. What does it feel like?”

“Well, it’s this sharp sting at first and then it’s sort of numb and… cool and…” She waves her hand, struggling to find the right words. “Almost pleasant.”

“Almost pleasant. Mhm.” Karlach pauses for a moment, then adds: “Does it get you all hot and bothered?”

Eve’s face gets even hotter, though she’s not sure how that’s possible.

“Wha– I–” she stutters and curses herself for it.

“HA! It does, it totally fucking does. I told ya.”

“Gods, fine. Yes, it does feel good, but I don’t do it to feel good, I do it to–”

“Yeah I know, you do it to help him out. I’m not doubting that, I’m really not! But it’s not wrong to enjoy it while you’re at it. What are you, Ilmater? You’re allowed to have some fun, for fuck’s sake.”

Eve stares at her for a moment, considering her words. 

“What? Oh, come on! If not for this infernal piece of junk,” she says, fist pounding at her chest, “I would happily ride that man to the Feywild and back. He’s fine as all Hells. And you’re obviously into each other—who are you kidding?”

“Fine, yes, he is really hot.” Tongue loosened with ale, she just keeps going: “And funny. And smart. And thoughtful when he wants to be.”

“Oh.” Karlach’s eyes widen as she puts her hands up, and Eve realizes she said too much. “Oh girl. So you like him.”

“Well, yeah, I like all of you…” Eve says, unconvincingly.

“No, I mean you like like him.”

“Whatever.” She waves her hand dismissively. “I think you’re reading into it too much.”

“And I think you should stop being so godsdamn stubborn and just go talk to him. Come on, live a little! I’m not saying you have to marry the guy but at least see what that mouth can do, other than whine all the time.”

A loud cheer erupts from the crowd gathered around Lae’zel and Halsin, though from her position, Eve can’t see who is winning.

“Look,” Karlach continues. “All teasing aside, I know you’re not this clueless. I know you know you like him, and we don’t have to talk about it anymore, but I just thought… Well, this might be all new to you, what with your memory stuff and all that, but trust me, there is nothing bad or shameful about feeling this way. It’s perfectly normal! Liking someone is so much fun actually, just allow yourself to feel it!”

A weak voice from the back of Eve’s mind chimes in—not the blood-dripping one, but rather, the closest thing she has to a conscience.

Not shameful, no—just wrong. Selfish and dangerous to let anyone get too close to you when you’re–

But it gets drowned out by the pleasant buzz of alcohol, by the music and merriment around her, by the weight of Astarion’s gaze still piercing holes into her skin.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be this complicated?

“You’re right, I’ll talk to him. Can you just top me off first?” Eve asks, nodding to the wooden keg behind Karlach.

“Nah, mate. I think you might wanna start sobering up for this.”

Eve groans and stands up, leaving the mug on the table.

“I guess. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Hey, you can always talk to Mama K. Now quit stalling!”

Eve leaves hesitantly and tries to make conversation with some tieflings on the way, but eventually she gives up the charade and just heads straight to Astarion.

With every step she takes, she feels the weight of his gaze, its intensity akin to that of a predator stalking its prey. But that doesn’t seem quite right, does it? Not when she comes to him so willingly, against her better instincts. Not when she is… well, herself.

Seeking relief from his piercing eyes, she looks down at the ruffles around his collar, at the deep cut of his neckline, never tied correctly, revealing way too much of his pale chest and she wonders how cold it would feel against her heated skin if they–

“My eyes are up here,” Astarion says, not without amusement, and the proximity of his voice snaps Eve out of her thoughts.

She shuffles awkwardly, taking half a step back once she realizes how close she’s standing.

“The lacing on your shirt is all messed up.” She points to his neckline, trying to distract from her not-so-subtle gawking. But Astarion doesn’t take the bait, eyes not leaving hers for a second when he asks:

“And that bothers you because…?”

“It doesn’t. It just seems like something that would bother you, but you might not be aware of it since…” She bites her tongue, the unspoken words hanging between them.

Since you can’t see your reflection.

“Here, let me,” she rushes to fill the silence and to her own surprise, steps up to reach for the leather laces. 

Astarion flinches ever so noticeably the moment her fingers brush against his skin as she pulls the string out of the eyelets. But then he rolls his shoulders back, a familiar smirk blooming on his lips when he says:

“Any excuse to get your hands on me, I see.”

“Glad I could inflate your ego. You don’t do it nearly enough yourself.”

Eve takes her time as she threads the laces anew, making sure it’s all symmetrical, as Astarion watches her every move in silence. Her heart is pounding, his scent filling her nostrils, that godsdamned scent that has become hers, too, ever since he showed her how to care for her hair and gave her a spare bottle of the scented oils he always carried. The combination is alluring but strangely comforting, one she would not mind waking up to every–

Oh girl. So you like him. 

“There, that’s better,” she says, taking a step back, and she is both relieved and disappointed by the distance that creates between them. Desperate to change the subject, she asks: “So, why are you sulking over here in the corner instead of joining the party? Is it not up to your standards, Magistrate Astarion?”

Astarion scoffs, but there is no real edge to it.

“It’s Magistrate Ancunín, actually. Or, was.”

“Ancunín,” Eve repeats, enjoying how the word rolls off her tongue. “All this time traveling together and I finally learn your last name. Maybe in three months I’ll know your favorite color.”

Astarion chuckles in a way he rarely does—every time Eve takes it as a small victory.

“Don’t get greedy.”

“So, can I convince you to join the party?” she asks, hoping he will say no. She’d much rather stay right here.

“I suppose it’s not much of a party, is it? Just a couple of hellspawn drunkenly twirling about, and all they have to serve is this vinegar.” 

He raises the bottle in his hand with a scowl, and without much thinking, Eve grabs it from him.

“Excuse you–” he drawls with feigned offense, but makes no effort to stop her.

They lock eyes as Eve brings the bottle up to her lips and takes a sip. She lets her eyelids flutter shut, enjoying how the rich vintage blossoms on her tongue.

“The wine is fine,” she declares, placing the bottle on the small table that houses all of Astarion’s mirrors. “I think you just like to complain.”

“Well, I think no one here knows how to have fun.”

“And you do? It doesn’t look like it.”

“Fun can take on many forms, darling. This,” he says, gesturing to the drunken crowd behind her, “is just not my… personal preference.”

“And what is?” she asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible—an increasingly difficult endeavor.

“Well, sex, for one. A night of passion. Alas, the only person I would deem suitable for the task has already indicated her lack of interest. And now she has decided to come over here and taunt me.”

An opening. A snap decision, before she can overthink it.

“You never know—people change their minds.”

Astarion’s eyes glint curiously in the low light as he leans closer.

“Interesting. Have you? Changed your mind, that is.”

“I might…” Words spill out of her before she thinks them through: “If you say please.”

Bleeding Hells, I did not just say that outloud.

Astarion’s eyes widen with a delightful mixture of shock and amusement.

“What?” he drawls, voice hushed.

Well, there is no backing out now, is there?

“You heard me,” she says, crossing her arms for emphasis.

“I should say please?” He puts his hand to his still heart. “You’re the one crawling back just like I predicted.”

“Fine.” Eve shrugs, her lips turning up in what she hopes to be an easygoing smile.

Against every nerve in her body, she turns on her heel and starts to walk away. It only takes two steps before she hears Astarion’s voice from behind her:

“Please.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks, but then she takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm when she turns and looks him up and down.

“Good boy. I’ll see you later.”

Astarion laughs, a rare genuineness to it.

“Cheeky,” he says, the word near-sinful coming from his lips. “There is a clearing in the woods just five minutes north from here. Come find me there once the party dies down.”

“I might,” Eve says, but her attempt at nonchalance is instantly foiled by Astarion’s insistence:

“You will.”

“Fine, I will,” she blurts out. “BYE NOW.”

Astarion chuckles and says:

“See you later… lover.”

Eve walks away hastily, a part of her wanting to giggle with glee, the other horrified by the consequences of her actions. To keep herself from overthinking the whole affair, she heads to the sizeable crowd and pushes through to the front row of the arm-wrestling match that is still in full swing. 

In the low light, Eve can see the faintest glint of sweat on Halsin’s forehead, while Lae’zel, half his size, seems thoroughly unbothered, her eyes narrowed in determination. Eve follows the firm lines of their flexing muscles up to their clenched fists that remain firmly above the center of the table.

“They’ve been like this for the past half hour,” Guex whispers to her, his eyes wide with awe.

“Perhaps it would be wise to acknowledge both of our strengths and proclaim this a draw,” Halsin suggests in his usual calm tone, though Eve senses it is taking him considerable effort to keep his voice steady.

“I didn’t take you for a coward, druid,” Lae’zel says through gritted teeth. “I don’t do draws,” she spits the last word out as if it were the most heinous insult. “I win. Or I die.”

“Well, that seems awfully dramatic,” Halsin says, a hint of a smile on his face that is otherwise tense with effort. “But I respect it.”

Eventually Halsin’s grip falters for a split second and Lae’zel doesn’t hesitate. Their fists slam against the table as the crowd erupts with applause. 

“You bested me, Lae’zel of Crèche K’liir,” Halsin admits solemnly as he bows before the woman in question. Through the curtain of brown hair that falls around his face, Eve sees a flash of a smirk and suspects that Halsin just wanted to be done.

The crowd disperses, and Eve gets dragged out onto the dancefloor by Zevlor of all people, who looks relaxed for the first time since they’ve met him. To a collective delight, Gale and Rolan join forces and paint the sky with sparkling cascades of dancing lights. 

In that moment, jumping to the music, magic glimmering above her, Eve senses this overwhelming gut feeling that everything might turn out alright. 

In the crowd of people she helped, she doesn’t feel like an outlier, but rather, a part of something greater than herself. All this time she’d been worried about letting people get close to her, but maybe it is precisely because she has grown closer to them all that she has been able to fight her instincts and make her own decisions. Perhaps a solitary life is not the “responsible choice.” Perhaps what she needs is the exact opposite.

Eve follows Karlach’s advice and does not drink any further. She has some water and food and she feels herself sobering up as the party slowly begins to quiet down and Astarion disappears somewhere in the forest. 

With this newly gained mental clarity comes a wave of second thoughts, and among them, a realization that she is not even sure if she’s ever had sex. Though if she had, she is grateful that she doesn’t remember the details, given the few gory glimpses she’s gotten into other aspects of her past life. 

Would she even be good at it? Can you be bad at it? If she has done it before, will instincts and muscle memory just take over?

No, nothing taking over, no thank you.

She supposes that if all else fails, she can just make up for her lack of experience with enthusiasm.

Fuck, what was I thinking?!

Astarion certainly seems like he knows what he’s doing. Maybe she can just let him take the lead and hope she doesn’t embarrass herself.

Gods fucking damn it.

Eve takes a deep breath, the chilly evening air grounding as it fills her lungs. 

It’s fine. It will be fine.

She doesn’t want to back out this time. 

Thoughts of Astarion have been flooding her mind for longer than she cares to admit. And perhaps this is an opportunity to finally stop wondering what his chest would feel like pressed against her, what his fingers would feel like digging into her hips–

Surely she will sate her curiosity and then she will be able to focus on more important matters.

After all, they’re both adults. They could be dead tomorrow. That’s all there is to it. This doesn’t have to mean anything… right?

A single thought reverberates through her mind as she heads towards the treeline:

Just this once.

________________

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, I have a whole series about these two, because as you might have guessed, it was not "just this once" :)

tag not-quite-list: @roguishcat 💕 (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

[edgeray]

🌸 madoka anon back! can i request arle finding clervies reincarnation later? with or without memories and how arle will handle it

To Find You Again

(Arlecchino & Clervie)

A/N - So… it's been a while huh? Guess I'm back for a little bit. Did you guys miss me? I missed you guys (please talk to me T^T it's been so lonely).  I am so sorry for taking so long to make this 🌸 Anon. Anyways, platonic arlevie because reincarnated clervie is a child while arle is an adult.  As you guys may have known, I was working on the follower special, and the reason I haven't posted it yet is because I haven't finished 💀. I know. Writing has been on and off for me the entire month, and I think I burnt out from just writing about one piece so much. That, with the added stress of finishing this before school started, and also me not knowing how to start the smut was just a fuck cluster of me procrasinating from writing because the solution to your problems is obviously running away from it :D. I was simultaneously exhausated and antsy to write. Anyways, with school approaching, instead of putting it off, I decided it'd be better to get the requests out of the way so I can get back into the groove of writing without having to focus on the oneshots.  TLDR; Going back to writing requests because I'm sick of writing the specials. 😭 I'm not abandoning part 2 or part 3, because god forbid I throw 9k words in the trash, but lord do I need a break from that writing style. They will be worked on steadily but they will happen… someday.    Content warnings / info - some angst :(, maybe bittersweet ending, 1.7k words.

There is a reason that Arlecchino favors a certain shade of red. The type of vibrant scarlet that leaves her breathless for the slightest second, and she cannot help but admire. Because in that single brief length of time, she is thrown back to when she was no older than six or seven, when she was just Peruere–underneath a tree, a small box in her hands, the sun beaming down at her, knees in the dirt, her curse creeping up her fingertips–and then warmest set of emerald eyes peering upon her. Memories, some fond but largely agonizing, swarm her thoughts, rising in waves that threaten to swallow her whole. 

Over the years, she's learned to stay afloat above the fickle waters, no matter how many times they resurface in varying sizes. Except today is when the waves tower over her, as it crashes into her body, shaking her to her very core, the very foundation of her memories disturbed. All caused by a single engagement in the middle of the Fontainian streets. 

Arlecchino often enjoys strolls when her work allows respites; they are refreshing to the mind, and the beauty of Fontainian architecture never fades away. Walking along the path, she hears small footfalls approach behind her, and then something collides into her body. The weight and negligible force of impact tells her it's a small person, a child, she confirms when she hears a high-pitched voice. 

An apology tumbles out of the child's lips. “I'm sorry!” 

And Arlecchino stiffens immediately, as her ears suddenly ring with those two words, familiarity bleeding through each utterance, because she knows of this voice. This is the same voice that has haunted her dreams for a decade, only this time, it's not whispered, not sapped of all of her previous vitality. Arlecchino is sixteen again, loose sword in hand, the press of a body against her chest, and surrounded by smoke, ashes, and blood, and all she knows is her last words. 

I'm sorry. 

Arlecchino looks down with a gaping expression, lips parted and eyes widened as she stares down at a mop of hair, the color of that ever damnable shade of red, carmine. Gleaming jade stones gaze back at her, and Arlecchino thinks of the impossible–reconsidering every preconception about death. Everything but her attire matches that out of her memories. Many explanations come to her for this child's appearance, but they mock the Harbinger's own recollection of her past. 

“I'm really sorry, ma'am!” The imposter repeats again, before looking down at her shoes, to hide away from any disapproving expressions. 

Had it been one of her children, she would have chided them on their spatial awareness. Had it been any other witless child, she would have scowled and shooed them away. But even with the knowledge that this is a fake, that the girl this child resembles could never return, she cannot help herself when this girl looks so much like her. 

She crouches down to the child's eye level, placing a tender hand on the top of their head, suppressing the urge for her fingers to card through the locks, just to re-experience one final time. She has to be no more than six or seven years. 

“What is your name?” Arlecchino inquires with a softness she seldom had for anyone.

“Clervie.” 

Arlecchino’s breath hitches, and she wills her face to remain still, betraying none of the internal turmoil inside of her. What kind of trickery was this? It's not plausible for Clervie to be alive, not when she had buried her a decade ago, so how could this child stand before her? It'd ease her if she chalked it up to coincidence, but the resemblance is uncanny. Fate works in inexplicable ways, and if it is at play here, then perhaps that is the only explanation. Only Arlecchino contemplates what it is that fate has in plan for Clervie: does it intend to redeem Clerive, or punish her? Or perhaps, was it to punish the Harbinger herself? 

This Clerive seemed to have not a single drop of recollection of her. Forgotten was Peruere, like ash drifted to the wind. 

“How old are you?”

“Six.” 

Further eye contact with the child proved to be too unbearable. Arlecchino observes around, seeing no adult making their way to them.

“Where are your parents?” 

“They're at home.” 

Multiple parents? Arlecchino prays to her Majesty that this Clervie did not have her own version of a Crucabena. A miniscule, selfish part of Arlecchino wishes that her answer was that she had no caretaker. If that was the case, Arlecchino almost wouldn't hesitate taking Clervie to the House of the Hearth, if only to keep this Clervie, no matter if she doesn't know of what occured in her past lifetime, close to her. Anything to replace the emptiness that her Clervie left her with, to pretend that she still has this seldom source of her content. 

She knows that her Clervie would never forgive her, if she knew. And Peruere knows that Clervie longed nothing more but freedom, freedom from the House of the Hearth. Even if this is not her Clervie, she could never trample what Clervie achieved for her own selfish gain. Even if Crucabena was no longer there, Arlecchino could never subject Clervie to the cruelties of the Fatui, could never subject Clervie to herself.

(Arlecchino lays alone in the darkest of nights, when the stars do not shine on her. During such sleepless periods, she contemplates that if Clervie could see her, would Clervie see her in place of their late Mother? 

Peruere is afraid of the answer.)

Clervie is free. There is no need to cage her again when she is always meant to be with the wind. 

But when Arlecchino sees this fake, but undoubtedly, Clervie, she cannot help but want to relive the pleasures of reading books in the window sill with the moon and constellations, climbing trees to collect its bearings, or delighting in cakes. A foolish, naive part that Arlecchino thought she had long buried resurfaces, and it longs to reenact those placid memories. 

“You should not be outside without your parents, Clervie,” Peruere states. “Did you run away?” 

Does this Clervie wish for freedom, just like she did before? The same freedom that she can only sought by death? 

The child shakes her head. “I can't find them. I lost them somewhere.”

The Harbinger lets out a relieved, inaudible sigh. Maybe fate decided to be kind to Clervie this lifetime. 

“Would you like me to help you look for them?” Peruere finds herself asking without a single thought. 

Clervie beams, and perhaps it hurts more than any blade that could pierce her skin. Still, she commits it to memory. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want me to carry you so you can see better?” Peruere inquired. Admittedly, this is more out of selfishness than for Clervie's benefit. However, she wants to replace the memory of the last time she had carried Clervie's body, broken and bloodied it was when she brought her dear friend to her burial place. If, for the briefest moment between the tides, she would like to fool herself with this memory, then she wishes that she is allowed just this. 

Clervie nods her head, and Peruere carefully picks up the child in her arms, before standing up from her crouching position. 

“Wow, you're so tall!” the six-year-old admires with a wide grin. 

The Harbinger faintly smiles but says nothing. 

“What's your name, ma'am?”

Peruere stops before she's taken 5 steps. It's instilled in her for her to state Arlecchino, the Knave, Fourth Fatui Harbinger, but on her tongue lies another name. “It's… Peruere.” 

“Per…uere?”

Peruere nearly shudders from her utterance, but nods. 

“Can I call you Perrie instead?” 

Arlecchino is the Fourth Fatui Harbinger, her power nearly comparable to that of a god. She has faced Crucabena's Kingmaking, she has endured the icy prisons of Snezynayan, and she has fought countless enemies. Arlecchino is all but weak, and yet she crumbles from a mere innocent question, from a child of all people.

“Yes, you can call me Perrie,” she answers far too quickly then she would like to. 

The Harbinger traverses around the Fontainian streets with the child in her arms as they look for adults similar to Clervie's description. They seem nothing like Crucabena, Peruere notes.

“Perrie, why did you stop when I asked you your name?” is the first question that Clervie asks on their search.

“You remind me of someone that I knew.” 

“Oh…” Silence, then, “You're really tall. Do you think I can be tall like you?” 

You never got the chance to, Peruere almost says, but dismisses it immediately. “I do not see why not. You have plenty more to grow.” 

Clervie hums, before her attention flits to Peruere's hands. “How come your hands are like that?”

“I painted them,” Peruere says and winces at the answer her mind conjured up. Nonetheless, it's more than convincing to the child.

“Wow… they look really cool! You painted them yourself?”

“I did.”

“Can I touch them?” 

“I suppose.” 

The conversation flows as awkwardly as one would expect with a six-year-old. Peruere is now privy to random tidbits of this Clervie's life: her favorite pastimes, preferred animal, and favored dishes, and favorite plants. The Harbinger finds it unsurprising that this Clervie still pleasures in reading novels, ravishes cake, and admires Lumodice Bells. Then she discusses why she had been out earlier today: her parents intended on getting her new clothes but lost her after she was distracted by the window displays of a bakery. 

Peruere allows her to talk, wordlessly indulging in the youthful spirit that this Clervie exhibits. It is nearly evening when Clervie exclaims sighting her parents, and Peruere hesitantly approaches the couple. 

It takes more strength than Peruere knew she possessed to let Clervie down. Clervie sprints to her parent's arms without a second thought. Clervie's parents thank Peruere for reuniting them, and promise Clervie that they would visit the bakery to buy the cake she eyeing so much.  

It is clear that Clervie has her own life to attend to. Fate chose to be merciful to her, and Peruere knows she cannot interfere with Clervie's life more, no matter how much she wishes it. Clervie is content, without Peruere.  

Arlecchino turns on her heel, intending to leave without an additional word, but Clervie calls out to her, waving frantically. 

“Bye-bye Perrie! Thank you so much!” 

Peruere glances back over her shoulder, a faint smile stretching on her lips. 

“Goodbye Clervie.” 

In your next life, let us know each other more familiarly. Until then, live the carefree life we both yearned for. 

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 8

Look at you lucky ducks! Two WIP Wednesday excerpts today! I'm afraid you won't be able to get used to it. Going forward I may update each fic on alternating weeks. I have a busy few months coming up if everything goes to plan and could use the buffer in case I can't get much writing done. We'll see, though.

I'm going to start leaving a fic summary at the beginning of every excerpt in case people find this in the wild and want to know what they're getting into.

Summary: Danny is finally going to meet Jazz's boyfriend Jason. At Jason's family's mansion. He spent weeks making sure he could have an evening off of any Ghost King business. But when he meets Jason on the steps of the mansion, he can barely pay attention to the guy because his focus is on the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off his shoulders. Who is very happy to find someone who can actually see him.

Word Count: 1.4k

First, Previous

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“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”

Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Tim and Barbara’s typing seemed to get faster. And then a pair of pixie boots and legs settled on the table next to his plate. He looked up and met Robin’s eyes.

Robin reached out an poked Danny on the nose. He gave a little trill of safe, friends drawing a smile out of Danny.

At the same time, Duke exclaimed, “That’s why you have a crown!”

And Steph said, “Okay, I may be out of the loop, but what the hell are the Infinite Realms?”

Damian snorted. “Aren’t you too young to be a king of anything?”

Danny half stood. “Look, do you want to go spar or something? Is that why you keep picking fights? Because we can do that. Fighting is good for young liminals. But I really don’t think this is the time or place.”

Jazz groaned and dragged him back into his seat. “Stop it, Danny. You’re on Earth right now.” Speaking over Danny’s protests, she explained to Damian, “We wish. Managed to get them to delay until he turned eighteen at least, but his grandfather wouldn’t let us wait any longer than that.”

Danny let the fight drop, but he did notice how Damian’s grip on his spoon tightened. Looked like they would be having that spar tonight if Damian had anything to say about it. Still, Jazz was right and he had to follow human customs on Earth so he bumped his sister’s shoulder and spoke to her instead. “You know as well as I do that he would’ve if it was possible. But thanks to Pariah, there are things that haven’t been done in a thousand years and it’s been causing so many problems.”

“Steph,” said Barbara. “The Infinite Realms are the spaces between universes according to Constantine. His documentation states that the Realm’s inhabitants are all incredibly overpowered and should not be approached under any circumstances. Just one being can evade all methods of capture with standard supplies.”

Jazz nodded. “And our parents dedicated their lives to building a portal to the Infinite Realms, or the Ghost Zone as they call it, and destroying all ghosts.”

“By ‘ghosts,’” asked Bruce, “Do you mean beings from these Infinite Realms?”

Jazz nodded. “Yes. Most beings from the Infinite Realms come into being when a living creature dies in a traumatic way, with a lot of emotion, or near a large source of ectoplasm. Usually some combination of all three.”

Both Tim and Bruce tried to ask further questions, but Jason’s voice cut in over theirs. “Jazz, when you say your parents wanted to ‘destroy all ghosts,’ did they stop after Danny’s accident?” Jason’s question did, at least, cause silence to fall as everyone stared at the two siblings.

Jazz looked down and gripped the tablecloth tightly, jaw clenched. Now it was Danny’s turn to lay a comforting hand over hers.

“No,” Danny said. “They didn’t. They didn’t know what happened for several years and when they found out… Well, there’s a reason I can’t use their last name and Jazz won’t call them ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ anymore. But”—Danny clapped his hands—“this is a great segway into what is actually important. Does the Justice League know about the Guys in White? More formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward? Or even just GIW?”

“That name is unfamiliar to me,” said Bruce.

Tim agreed. “Babs and I aren’t seeing anything in the JL databases.”

Even Robin just shrugged.

Danny didn’t expect the jolt of pain that sent through his chest and Jazz turned their hands around until they were gripping each other’s hands with more force than any baseline human would’ve been able to.

“I told you, Danny. They didn’t know. They didn’t know.” Her eyes were wet, but she forced a shaky smile. “You could’ve had help.”

Danny just shook his head. “Even if I had believed they didn’t know… Without meeting them, without knowing how many of their own were in danger, I would’ve never trusted them. Too many people rely on me for me to risk it.”

“Care to enlighten the rest of us?” asked Dick. His posture was relaxed, but his voice had an edge that hadn’t been there earlier.

Robin nodded from where he sat staring at Danny. He sent out a questioning Danger? pulse at Danny.

“Yeah, danger,” agreed Danny. “Barbara, Tim, if I give you a law code number, can you pull up the law I’m referring to?”

“Of course,” agreed Barbara. “Just a moment… And shoot.”

Danny gave them the code for the Anti-Ecto Acts. “The Guys in White are the government agency responsible for enforcing the Anti-Ecto Acts which classify all ‘ectoplasmic entities’”—he made the air quotes—“as non-sentient and non-sapient and excludes us from the metahuman protection acts.”

“What the fuck!” shouted Duke.

Next to Danny, Dick suddenly was sitting up tense. “That’s impossible.”

“The league would’ve noticed such an act being passed,” said Damian, though he didn’t look as sure as his words would seem.

Cass merely tilted her head and looked at him while Steph choked on her drink.

Bruce looked to Tim and Barbara. “Is this true?” he asked them.

Robin pointed to himself and mouthed the word ‘Me?’ at Danny.

“I’m afraid so. And Bruce, Cass, Steph, and Damian as well.”

Dick’s spluttering got louder. “How are they all in danger?” he demanded to know.

Before Danny could reply, Tim was speaking. “It’s all true. And far worse than Danny implied. Not only are ecto-entities not protected by the metahuman protection laws, but they are to be actively hunted and turned over to the GIW for experimentation and extermination and anyone who assists them is declared guilty of treason.”

“When did they pass?” asked Bruce.

“Four years ago,” said Barbara. “While Luthor was president. They were hidden in some laws about green energy.”

“Ghost are made of ectoplasm,” explained Jazz. “Ectoplasm is a fantastic energy source.”

“It happened a few months after I defeated the previous king but before my coronation,” added Danny.

“Why do you think myself, Damian, Cass, Stephanie, and Jason will be targeted by this Ghost Investigation Ward?”

“It’ll be easier to show you.” Danny reached down and pulled up his bag. The thing was made in Pandora’s realm and was bigger on the inside. Once open, it took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He could see Robin signing to the group next to him. “Here we are,” Danny said as he pulled out three devices. “These are all different ectoplasm detection devices. One is my own design, one is the Guys in White’s design, and one is my parent’s design. I’ll show you mine first because it’s the best.”

“Might be a dumb question,” started Dick, “but what the hell is ectoplasm?”

“So you know how all the elements in this universe came about from nuclear fusion of hydrogen in the cores of stars?” asked Danny. When most everyone nodded, he continued, “In the Infinite Realms, that base element is ectoplasm. But there’s no need for a star to transform it into anything else. It will mold to the shape any consciousness that interacts with it wants. When sentient creatures slip through, either by a portal or through death or any other means, they shape the part of the Realm they’re in to their will. The stronger the ghost, the larger the area they control.” Holding out his hands, Danny called forth a ball of ectoplasm, shaping it into a glowing-green ice duck. “Something like this,” he commented grinning around the table.

Only to be met with horrified looks as most of the table were staring at his hands with distrust. Damian had his knife out again. Jason, his gun with the other arm held protectively in front of Jazz. Bruce was standing and Cass tense.

“What’s wrong?” asked Danny. “It’s just an ice duck sculpture. Completely harmless.”

Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”

More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.

----------

Next

Challenge: Stay on one topic for more than two sentences.

Outcome: Failed.

They keep getting side tracked with more questions. And Danny still hasn't had a bite of his pie. This evening will never be over.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

Looks like 50 is the limit for active user tags in a post. Good to know

[cordeliasdarling]

Birthday (Larissa Weems x Reader)

Notes: This is a random piece about Larissa and reader both being students at nevermore. Reader is popular, Larissa not so. (I know I’m so sorry it’s a bit sad.) I saw a prompt ages ago that inspired this so creds to them idk who.

Let me know if you want a part two! And pls don’t let this flop haha :0

****

To say I was popular.. well yes, you'd be right. I'd worked hard for it, looking perfect, getting high grades. Of course my natural personality was a winner amongst my peers at Nevermore academy. It made me feel good, more than just for my ego. I liked to know that people liked me for me. I wasn't fake, I said things as they were, and luckily it wasn't rejected.

"Hello, earth to (Y/N)!" I jolted out of my personal monologue by my best friend, Cleo. When we'd met for the first time, we clicked instantly. She knew me better than anyone else, and I loved it. And I knew her the same way.

"Sorry, just daydreaming." I chuckled quietly and glanced around at the surroundings. We were sat on the freshly cut green grass in the courtyard. It was a warm day with a refreshing breeze. Perfect for lounging around. Just beyond me and Cleo were the rest of my friend group, who were all talking, laughing. I enjoyed the company.

Then something caught my eye, actually someone.

She had silvery blonde hair, and was much taller than any girl in the school, and not just because we were the oldest in the school (we were all in our last year). The school uniform brought out her deep crystal eyes, in a way that made me smile automatically. Larissa Weems was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Cleo nudged me, a grin on her face.

"I don't know why you don't just ask her out. What's the worst that can happen?"

I rolled my eyes, a sigh escaping my lips. My eyes were still on Larissa, watching as she walked along the open corridor on the side of the grass. Her eyes were on the ground, probably watching where she was going because due to her height, she often bumped into the shorter students, forgetting her stride was bigger than others.

"She most likely will be straight. Then turn me down, laugh in my face, and leave me all alone forever." Groaning, I leaned back, laying down properly on the grass.

"You should invite her to your birthday party." Cleo suggested, taking a sip of her water bottle, which she'd slid in a few ice cubes to keep her cool in the summer heat.

"She doesn't go to parties." Well, that's just what I'd gathered from all the parties I'd been to, she'd never been there, much to my disappointment. Having drinks in our systems may have given me more courage to talk to her.

Before Cleo could reply, one of my friends approached us, causing my eyes to leave Larissa just as she disappeared through a door.

"Hi, Mary." A welcoming smile on my face, as usual. She smiled back, sitting closer, in front of Cleo.

"I was wondering if you could help me with the Math homework? It's totally okay if not." People often asked me for such favours, as it was no secret that I got top grades, and I was always happy to help.

"Yes, of course!"

**

"Alright everyone, today we're moving to the greenhouse for the lesson." Mrs Faye called out to everyone before they could sit down. A faint groan was heard, because we all knew how hot it would be in there. But we didn't protest, mainly because we all loved Mrs Faye, and she always made our lessons fun.

There were desks already set up in front of tables with a plant pot on all of them. All of the students grouped together in twos, though I hung back, deciding which table I would go to with Cleo. But she nudged me, secretly gesturing to Larissa who hadn't partnered up yet. My eyes widened, knowing what she was suggesting.

"No!" I whispered, but Cleo had walked off with someone else, sending a wink my way. Internally I groaned, knowing I'd have to woman-up. So I approached Larissa, a faint smile on my lips, almost grinning as her eyes met with mine. I was lost for a moment, looking up at the girl I had the biggest crush on. And she had no idea, because I was secretly an awkward lesbian.

"Hey, wanna partner up?" I asked, cursing to myself because my tone didn't sound confident enough. She nodded, her expression softening. I felt a pang of sadness for her, because she was always the last one to be picked. It shouldn't be that way.

We walked to the last available bench and sat down, facing the front.

Mrs Faye talked us through the project, and soon we were left to our own devices, having to dissect a flower to see the roots and whatnot.  At the same time, we grabbed the scalpel to start. A blush appeared on my cheeks, whereas Larissa just smiled that beautiful smile.

"Sorry." Mumbling, letting her take it and begin the work. My eyes watched her movements, wondering what her larger hands would feel like linked with mine. I was short, well not short in the grand scheme of things, but just smaller than the average nineteen year old. Did that make me and Larissa Weems less compatible? I hoped not.

The lesson went by in a blur, mostly me letting Larissa do all the work, something that was unlike me, but I was just very busy. By busy, I meant building up the courage to ask Larissa to my birthday party. It couldn't be that hard, just a few simple words. But the feeling of rejection was something I never wanted to feel. I'd always had an easy time when it came to dating. All boys though, much to my distaste, but that was the consequence of not coming out.

"Larissa?" My tone was even, not holding confidence or nervousness. She tilted her head to the side, making eye contact with me. I nearly ran out of oxygen, looking into those deep ocean blue eyes.

"Yes?" Her voice was smooth, velvety even.

"Would you.. would you like to come to my birthday party tomorrow?" Urgh, I hated the way my pathetic voice sounded so hopeful. I hoped she didn't detect it.

She didn't say anything for a full minute, seemingly lost in thought. Eventually she shook her head slowly. "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow."

My heart sunk, hanging my head in despair. So this is what rejection felt like, a crushing feeling in my gut.

"Oh, that's totally okay." I forced a smile, staring at the now dissected plant as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Damn this. Of course the prettiest girl in school wouldn't want to come to my party. Literally almost everyone in my year would be there, except for her.

Mrs Faye then called out to the class, dismissing us all as the hour was up. Time flew fast, it seemed.

Larissa left the class before me, grabbing her bag and exiting quickly. I tried not to stare, but I didn't really relax until she'd gone completely. Not in a negative way, but because I was so awkward and down.

"So how did it go?" Cleo grinned, her arm slung around my shoulders as we left the greenhouse. I didn't reply, just groaning in a way that I hoped verbalised the rejected feeling.

"Ah. Playing hard to get. Well, there are plenty more fish in the sea." She slapped my back in what seemed to be a comforting way, but it just added to the pain. Yes, I know I was just a nineteen year old student with a silly little crush, but Larissa seemed like so much more.

As we walked along the corridor, I spotted the very girl I was mooning over, talking to a small group of people. They all seemed to shake their head in response to something she said. Larissa seemed to smile, though it looked superficial, like something had upset her but she was trying to cover it up. They all dispersed, leaving me in a state of curiousness. I was tempted to go over to the people who were naturally my friends, to ask what that was all about, but we needed to get to our lesson.

And by the end of the day, it had slipped my mind.

**

The next day rolled around, and I was walking out of the changing rooms, having just had track. I was alone, which was unusual, because I had decided to do a couple more laps, insisting my friends should go. They all wanted to get ready for my party anyway.

I slipped on my uniform, not bothering to tuck my shirt into my skirt. Bag on my shoulder, I moved towards the door, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard a muffled sound coming from the toilets. Frowning, I inspected further, walking into joining restroom. The sound happened again, and this time I figured out it was stifled crying. The sound tugged on my heartstrings, because the pain was clear in the tone.

"Hello?" I knocked on the cubicle door softly, and the crying abruptly stopped. The was a long silence before the door opened slowly. It revealed none other than Larissa Weems. My heart sunk further, who hurt my precious girl?

"Oh.. it's you." She mumbled, walking to the tissue dispenser, grabbing a few sheets to dab at her smudged mascara. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." I followed her, about to place a hand on her arm, but stopped myself, in case she didn't like physical contact. She stared into the mirror, at herself, until her gaze shifted to my reflection.

"Don't you have friends to run off with?" She muttered, eyes now lowering to look at her hands.

"They're not important right now. Can you tell me what's wrong?" I tried my best to make my words as gentle as possible, and it seemed to work because fresh tears filled her eyes as she turned around to face me.

"We have the same birthday but everyone goes to your party, not mine." Her voice cracked, looking away in some type of shame.

It all clicked, the reason why she was 'busy', the reason those people were shaking their heads, as they weren't going to her celebration, they were going to mine. I didn't even know her birthday was on the same day as mine.

"Oh, Larissa.." I whispered, my arms opening to embrace her. She didn't move away, instead stiffening up. "I'm sorry." Though those two words didn't do much comfort.

"It's fine." She sounded cold, and suddenly pushed me away gently. Tears were in my eyes now, just like hers, except she had fiercely wiped them away.

"Have fun." She then left, her footsteps quick against the lino flooring, leaving me speechless. I wiped away one tear. I had caused her pain, and that I would never forgive myself for.

I had to make this right, I had to make her feel better, in whatever way possible.

So I furrowed my eyebrows to come up with some sort of plan.

****